《Arianna: Era of Kings》 B1. Chapter 01: Dungeon Master 08 Embraced in a familiar sensation of d¨¦j¨¤-vu, I found myself slumbering. For how long exactly did I slumber? I couldn¡¯t tell, it could be a few seconds or perhaps literal years or even decades. I just couldn¡¯t tell. What I could tell was that right now I broke free of that slumber, but not on my own. Instead, I was woken up by something, something rough, so rough that I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the hell was happening to me. Feeling nothing sensory that I could define in words, I felt heavily confused, and yet in spite of that confusion, as if things were simply familiar, I felt no fear. Instead, if anything I just felt annoyed. This went on for a few seconds? A few minutes? A few hours? Even that I couldn¡¯t pinpoint. What I could tell was that it went on for a while till I started to notice something. The initial sensation I experienced was akin to certain sensory stimuli, evoking a feeling of being akin to a light, airy cloud¡ªalmost weightless. However, as I continued to observe, I realized that this weightless cloud-like feeling began to transition into a heavier sensation, as if gravity were starting to exert its force on me, gradually bringing me back down to earth, so to speak. At that moment, perhaps instinctively out of habit, I tried to do something which could be described by most people as atypical: psychically probing my edges. Slowly and faintly I was able to do just that, doing so I was able to tell where "I" ended and where what was not "me" began, and as I managed to, I realized or to be exact remembered what happened to me. Oh, right, that happened. I died. Then I decided, for our mission¡¯s sake, to give life yet another try. In that surge of clarity, another sensation surged within, it was the sound of a heartbeat¡ªmine. Feeling the rhythmic pulse in my chest, the steady beat of a heart pumping blood through what I could only imagine was my body, I received another confirmation of my situation. Hahaha, that''s right, I''m doing this again. One might assume that at the end of life death simply extinguishes the light, bringing an end to it all. Unfortunately, it wasn''t like that. There''s something beyond death¡ªnot an immediate return to life, nor a happily-ever-after but something akin to what the believers in my old world would refer to as a place of eternal torment¡ªhell. We were sent there, and as the name suggest, we should¡¯ve been there for an eternity and yet, for a chosen few like ourselves, it turned out there''s salvation from that fate¡ªsalvation that brought me here, to this place: Fiendfell, I hadn''t yet opened my eyes to in this incarnation, but I knew for a fact that I was in that world, after all it was the only realm into which I could repeatedly reincarnate. Remembering another detail about my reincarnations, I summoned the strength to form a coherent thought and as I did an internal plea began to rise within me. "Please," I inwardly pleaded, yet not daring to involve the Goddess into my plea,"let me be fortunate this time. Please let me be born with it!" I was a very easy-to-please man. I usually do with what I''m given. I might complain, but I¡¯m usually very thankful for whatever I¡¯m given. But if there¡¯s a chance for me to get that little something that usually makes a man a man, then be certain I will shamelessly beg for it. More time passed, leaving me trapped in a peculiar yet oddly familiar state of helplessness. During this interval, sensations returned to me one by one. First came the chill of coldness, followed by the sound of my own cries. I could sense my own breath, yet like my cries, I had no control over them. Despite gradually gaining control over my new vessel, I still felt like a true infant, freshly experiencing the world for the first time. Some might envision this moment as beautiful, but having traversed this process multiple times, I knew better. My current vision was abysmal, akin to looking through a foggy lens. A younger version of myself might have fretted over being born with poor eyesight in a world devoid of corrective glasses, but having undergone this rebirth several times, I recognized this visual impairment as typical for children my age. It was only temporary. So, after attempting to move my leg fruitlessly, I chose to calmly observe my surroundings through the blurred haze. Let''s see what kind of family I''ve hijacked the baby of this time. If I''m not born with a dick once again, I can hope to at least be born of beautiful parents, allowing me then to grow into a beautiful lady. Though I suppose that also comes with its share of problems, but so long as I get strong as expected of me, I should be fine. Through the blurry haze I saw silhouettes that I could at least tell belonged to women, but that''s the extent of it. I couldn''t tell what they looked like. Stuck in a position that made staring up the only available view, I saw what seemed to be the ceiling, prompting me to praise, "Nice ceiling." Though it was blurry, the ceiling, which had what clearly was a chandelier, didn''t look like the one I was very familiar with. Fiendfell was a world still stuck in medieval-like times, so such a ceiling, while common in my old world, was very rare in this world. The only ones susceptible to having such a nice ceiling were rich people, which led me to suppose that I managed to hijack some rich family''s baby in this incarnation. Better to begin rich than poor, I was well placed to say that, having spawned previous times in what, by reasonable standards, could be described as poor families. Being born from poor parents was a misery, one even more so doubled down with the fact the world was medieval-like, surviving one''s early years could really be a challenge even for a reincarnate like me. Heck, even I died a few stupid deaths because I lacked that thing: money, so I sure would be very thankful to reincarnate as some rich family''s baby. My supposedly Daddy¡¯s money would really smoothen a lot of my journey. Another set of information spawning in my mind, I realized that if I really reincarnated into some rich family, then could it be that I also reincarnated as a Highbreed, since one rarely ever comes without the other. I wanted to know, and I had a way to confirm it, but knowing what it would do to me in my current state, I decided not to probe any further. I didn''t want to be knocked unconscious; I was still curious about what could be seen and heard around me. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Speaking of hearing, I heard voices, but they not only sounded muffled like I was underwater, the little I could hear of it also sounded like words I couldn''t understand, but not in a way that I was hearing words that I never heard before, but instead like words that I knew the sound but for mysterious reasons, wasn''t able to attach meaning to. Had it been my first experience with this, it would''ve been unsettling, but having already gone through this in the past, I understood that it was part of the hijacking process that was still in progress. In a few days or if I¡¯m lucky enough a few hours, I would have full control of this body, and once I did, this fragment of memory, which was the language of man in Fiendfell, would be restored back to me, allowing me to finally understand what was being discussed here. Being attentive to what I was hearing, I heard a voice that sounded like it clearly belonged to a man amidst the voices that so far only belonged to women. Then, I felt myself being handled and then held in a way that made it look like I was being presented to someone like a gift. The "someone" in question were two men, at least that''s what I could tell from their vague silhouettes. They were dressed, I could tell in spite of the blurry veil, nicely¡ªno gold or anything particularly fancy, but just the tunic alone made their high-standing eminently clear, especially when one knows how the average peons are dressed. So which one of you two is it? Which one of you two is the unlucky father? In that moment, as if hearing his very thought, I saw one of the two silhouettes approach and reach onto me. In that moment, I sensed an uncomfortable sensation settled into me¡ªthe closest familiar feeling I could describe it with was that it felt like being licked, unsettling, not painful but uncomfortable enough for the baby that I, physically 100%, was and spiritually partially was, to cry and bawl loudly because of it. It took a moment for the unsettling to stop, allowing me to finally formulate a theory on what just happened. While in my many incarnations I never went through this, I''d heard stories about how that skill felt when applied onto someone¡ªthat skill being: Appraisal¡ªa skill that allowed its wielder to take a peek into a tier¡¯s stats, allowing its wielder to determine the level, skill, and abilities of the said third party. It was a very useful skill to gauge an opponent''s level but it came with a little inconvenience. At low to mid level, the skill can cause the appraised subject unsettledness. While they might not realize that they''re actually appraised, they will be under the impression that they''re under attack which will, in a battle situation, bring about retaliation. That''s exactly what I felt here, I felt like being attacked¡ªor at the very least defiled, and that without a means to retaliate. What are these bastards appraising me for? I''m a baby, what could you possibly be looking for in baby stats? As I pondered tempestuously those questions, I remembered a detail about each of my incarnations, making me voice the almost immediate hypothesis, "Could it be that they figured something about me?" Staring intently at them and yet being only able to make out a vague silhouette, I pondered nervously the hypothesis I came up with. While doing so, out of the blue, an interface in which the texts written in clear and impossible to not recognize words that were compared to the blurry world I was seeing like day and night, popped up in the corner of my eyes. [Notification] Congratulations! You''ve Acquired a New Skill! Skill Name: Eagle Eye Description [Identification Lvl.1]: With the activation of this skill, your vision sharpens to an extraordinary degree, akin to the keen eyesight of an eagle. Details become clearer, distances seem shorter, and even in low light conditions, you can discern shapes and movements with remarkable precision. "Huh?" As the notification appeared in the corner of my vision, I couldn''t help but be surprised. Not by the existence of the notification itself¡ªafter all, I was well acquainted with the system that governed the manifestation of powers in Fiendfell. No, what caught me off guard were two things: the detailed description accompanying the notification and the perfect timing of its appearance. I don''t know how and why this happened, but this sure is convenient. As soon as I acquired the notification, my vision seamlessly enhanced, allowing me to finally see the two men clearly. They were dressed in richly colored robes befitting nobles of this era. Both had black hair, though one appeared considerably older than the other. The younger man, seemingly in his late forties, sported strands of gray amidst his black locks, while the older one maintained a strict, contemporary appearance. Their robes, though different in style and color¡ªgreen for the younger, blue for the older¡ªbore the same emblem on their chest: a white sword pointing downward. It was an emblem that awakened yet another fragment of memories within me. "You gotta be kidding me!" The two men standing in front of me were complete strangers to me, but for them to wear that emblem, I could tell what kind of humans they were and even discern from which family they belonged. Perhaps sensing my intense glare, the older of the two men, who was talking to the younger one, suddenly had his focus shift entirely to me. Staring curiously, with a frown, he once again activated the skill, causing me to feel the discomfort the appraisal skill brings about upon the appraised person. Seriously, what''s this bastard looking for?! Having no means to actually defend myself from the man''s intrusion and curious as to what he was looking for, I, after careful consideration, decided to do what I''d been thus far postponing. I knew doing it would knock me out, so before taking that step, I decided to first observe what kind of place I''d incarnated into this time. I had yet to see what my current "Mother" looked like but I¡¯ve seen enough already and since there was nothing else I could do, I decided to finally do it. I''ll most likely wake up in a few hours, unless of course I get killed in my sleep somehow. That was a possibility, those are the risks of going through a reincarnation, in the early days, months, years where I''m very much no more vulnerable than any random child, there''s a chance I die a very early death, that was one of the many dangers I''ve been warned about. I have experienced some myself, and yet to experience others. I may not be a big fan of this family I¡¯ve incarnated myself into, but it would be a hassle to start from scratch when I haven''t even begun anything yet, so let¡¯s just hope that that won¡¯t happen. Gathering my willpower and mental energy, I mentally voiced out a command that summoned an interface¡ªone displaying my current vessel¡¯s newly acquired stats. [??? Interface] Name: Dungeon Master 08 Level: ??? Race: HighBreed Class: N/A Title: N/A Experience: 0 / 150 [Status] - H.P: 1 / 1 - M.P: 1 / 2 (+1) - S.P: 1 / 1 - Fatigue: 61% - Defense: N/A - Offense: N/A [Skills] - Identification: Level 1 - Eagle Eye: Level 1 - Mana Reservoir: Level 1 [Abilities] None It was only as I saw my name, my skills, that I finally realized and understood what the two were looking for with their appraisal skill on me. B1. Chapter 02: A princesss...Almost The scent of iron filled the air, heavy and metallic. I could taste it on my tongue, thick and cloying. My eyes fixated on the crimson stains that adorned my trembling hands, like macabre art painted in hues of violence. It wasn''t my first encounter with blood. No, being in that line of work, I was a humble man who had grown all too accustomed to its presence¡ªits haunting familiarity. But this time was different. This time, instead of being the familiar crimson out of my clients'' targets or the red one out of me when some steps of the job went wrong, the sight of this color sent shivers down my spine, causing my hands to quake with an uncontrollable tremor. I kept doing so until at some point in the recesses of my mind, I realized this was a dream, and as I did it allowed me to seamlessly pull myself out of it. As I slowly emerged from the depths of my not-so-pleasant dream, my consciousness returned to the realm of reality. "What''s this again, I''m having flashbacks, now?" I muttered to myself, half entrancedly, reaching into my face, I felt dampness cling to my skin like a second skin. Sweats had soaked through my clothes in my sleep. "Just for how long have I been dreaming of that?" A bitter chuckle escaped my lips as I surveyed the mess I had become. the words dripping with self-deprecation. Wiping it with the back of my hand, with a weary sigh, I pushed myself up from the bed,in spite of my muscles protesting the sudden movement. I glanced around the dimly lit room, the faint glow of dawn filtering in through the curtains. At least it didn¡¯t wake me up in the middle of the night, that¡¯s at least one good thing, I thought wryly, trying to see this in a more cheerful light. Just as I was doing so, a soft knock echoed through the room, breaking the silence like a crack of thunder. I turned towards the door, a sense of resignation settling over me like a heavy blanket. "Enter." As the door creaked open, a young servant entered the room, her eyes filled with reverence as she greeted me, "Good morning, My Lady." I acknowledged her with a nod and a faint smile, returning the greeting with a simple "Good morning." "How are you feeling today, My Lady?" she inquired. "Great," I replied, attempting to brush off any signs of discomfort. But as she approached closer, her eyes widening at the sight of my drenched state, she couldn''t help but question further, "My lady, are you alright?" "I am, I just sweated a lot this morning," I assured her, though the concern etched on her face didn''t dissipate. The maid hurried to the window, lamenting softly, "My lady, it''s summer. If you felt hot, you should''ve opened the¡ª" She caught herself mid-sentence, correcting her words, "You should''ve summoned me. I would''ve fanned you all night." "All night?" I echoed, impressed by her zeal. "All night should it be," she declared fervently, flinging the window open wide. With the dawn''s light came a gentle breeze, filling the room with a refreshing coolness. "Mph, is that so," I murmured, feeling the tension ease from my shoulders. "I need a bath, Ane," I declared. "I''ll immediately get it ready," Ane responded promptly before hurrying off to attend to the task at hand, leaving me once again alone in the room. Savoring the gentle breeze drifting in through the window and finding solace in its caress, I made my way to the room''s balcony, which opened out onto the mansion''s sprawling backyard. Well, to be fair, it wasn''t just a mansion; it was a chateau of a grandeur that surpassed mere opulence. And it was where I, in this current incarnation, resided. It had been eleven years since that fateful day when I awoke to this new incarnation, eleven years since I begrudgingly accepted my fate: To be a girl. Again. To be reborn as a girl, time and time again, was a truth I struggled to reconcile with. It wasn''t the fact that I was now a girl that troubled me the most; rather, it was the realization that I would forever be confined to this form, never again experiencing life as a man. I should have accepted that by my fourth incarnation but clinging onto my pride as a "man" I have consistently quelled any doubts that arose within me. I have to admit I was very good with mental gymnastics but even then with each subsequent rebirth, the truth became harder to ignore and even run away from. There was something inherent in my being, in my very soul, that condemned me to this cycle of female reincarnation. As to what it was, I figured I''d have to wait until the death of this current vessel to even attempt to unravel the mystery. I might sound like I''m complaining excessively about my condition as a female, but in truth, after that many incarnations, I''ve reached a point where I have to admit, albeit uncomfortably, that I have more memories of being a girl than of being a man. Tragic, truly tragic, but it speaks volume to how little difficulty I faced in adapting to my current lifestyle as a girl. Especially considering what this incarnation has brought me: wealth, riches beyond measure. While I''ve been unable to break free from the cycle of reincarnation that always reincarnates me, a manly man as they come, as a female, I have at least managed to break the cycle that condemned me to always be born into poverty. After years, decades and soon centuries, I was finally born into a rich family¡ªa noble family. This afforded me perks that I can''t deny have made this incarnation not only easier but also smoother. So, in truth, I have nothing substantial to complain about, save for one small detail¡ªthe identity of the noble family into which I''ve been born. As I gazed out into the morning light, I cast a glance back into my room. An emblem adorned one of the walls, a simple white sword, upside down¡ªthe sigil of the Wei? family. It was a family with which I was not only familiar, having encountered them in several incarnations before, but also, by a twisted irony of fate, the very family I was born into this time around. Lost in thought for a couple of minutes, the door once again suddenly opened, with the same servant girl entering, announcing, "Your bath is ready, my lady," a peignoir-like robe in her hands. "Alright," I replied, accepting the robe from her and promptly changing into it before heading straight for the bath she had prepared. She followed, asking, "My lady, would you like your breakfast in your room or along with everyone else?" "Is there a reason for me not to have my breakfast in my room?" I inquired, casting a glance at the girl behind me. "None today, I believe," she responded. But I will later inquire if his Grace, your grandfather, wants you to join him for breakfast." I didn''t add anything, simply acquiescing to her answer and headed for the bath. After a much-needed bath which by the time I finished, my breakfast was already waiting for me in my room. I leisurely ate and once I was done immediately changed myself, preparing for the rest of the day. By the time I was done, it was already about that time of the day people in my old world called 8 in the morning. I realized that if the original me or any of my early incarnations, who didn''t get to experience such a lifestyle, were here and saw the lifestyle I was leading, they would most likely mock me for living like a princess. And while I would be a little embarrassed, I wouldn''t blame them. After all, I was, technically, a princess¡ªa fact that came with its fair share of life-changing perks and annoying obligations that I would like to dissociate myself from. But unless I wanted to draw unwanted attention to myself, I had to, despite my pride as a formerly manly man, behave much like a princess. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. That being said, I didn''t just accept this new masquerade of princessly life as what my life is and forever will be. In my own covert way, I was fighting back. And what I was dressing for was one such way. Dressed in a knight training outfit, I walked with Ane, my faithful servant following behind, through one of the Wei? family''s castle''s many corridors. "Are my creatures ready?" I asked. "They are," she replied. "Sir Justaff received a shipment yesterday, and he''s been working on them since then to be ready for you today, my lady." "Good," I nodded. "He even told me to say that he even has a surprise for you today." "A surprise, huh?" I mused, wondering what kind of creature and what race and evel that surprise might be. Upon reaching an intersection where the corridor I was walking in met with another corridor, I came to a halt, causing the girl behind me to nearly bump into me. "My lady? Is there some¡ª" she began, but halted mid-sentence as she heard the approaching footsteps that finally became audible from the other corridor. The most prominent footsteps that could be heard were rapid and closing, suggesting that the person causing them was running through the corridor. Sure enough, the one responsible came into view, a small silhouette suggesting his age was no older than five. "Stop running around; you''re going to hurt yourself," cautioned a female voice loudly. But the admonition fell on deaf ears as the boy not only disregarded it but also seemed to relish the challenge. With carefree laughter, he twirled around while running, only to abruptly halt upon noticing our presence from the intersection of the two corridors. Caught off guard, the sudden halt had the comical effect of sending him tumbling to the ground with an audible thud. "Young Lord," exclaimed voices in gasps, while others called out, "Cleon!" "I told you so! That''s what you get for¡ª" remarked a young girl, barely three years older than myself, as she hurried to his side, followed closely by two more women. One, dressed plainly like Ane, indicated that she was a servant, bearing the marks of experience etched upon her features. This contrasted with the regal elegance of the other woman, whose lavish attire made her look like a princess, though she wasn''t. She wasn¡¯t a princess, it was the first girl who clearly inherited most of the latter''s features, save the black hair which she instead inherited from our "father", who was. "Are you hurt anywhere?" the woman in plain dress asked. The boy shook his head. "Thank God." "Good, let this be a lesson." As they helped the boy to his feet, their gaze followed his, still fixed onto us, allowing them all to finally notice our presence which had thus far gone unnoticed. Since I¡¯ve been noticed, I decided to approach the group now staring at me. In a few strides, followed closely by Ane, I arrived before them. As I did, the servant promptly adopted a bowing reverence to greet me, just as did Ane towards the woman standing before me and her children. "Good morning, Mother," I greeted, with a smile striving to be as warm as possible. Staring at me from where she stood, her gaze met mine. As I looked up at her, she held a stare that seemed partially apprehensive, partially questioning. The woman nodded, acknowledging my greeting, so I proceeded to the girl who looked practically like a copy of her mother, "Good morning, Big Sister," then to the little boy standing on the other side of his mother, "And to you too, little brother." The sight of the three of them standing next to each other looked like one of those tragic royal paintings that can be seen in museums or movies. After casting a glance at their mother, who motioned a nod at them, the elder sister greeted, both on her behalf and that of her little brother, "Good morning, Sister." To be frank, at that point, I already felt bored with their presence, so I considered taking my leave. But realizing that could come across as insensitive, I decided to add, glancing at the boy who almost cracked his skull open a little less than a minute ago, "I noticed you tripping earlier. You shouldn''t run like that in corridors; it''s dangerous. You could''ve hurt yourself very badly." I was about to continue, suggesting having him checked for hidden injuries after his fall when his mother wedged herself between me and her son. "He understands," she asserted firmly. Staring at her, I couldn''t help but internally roll my eyes. Lady, what are you protecting your child from me for? I won''t eat him. He''s by far my favorite half-sibling. For the time being. Feeling already fed up with this conversation that felt like it had been dragged on far too long for my expandable energy for socializing, I said, nodding, "I see," before declaring, "I''ll be taking my leave then. I''ll be in the backyard for training should anyone need me. Have a good day," I greeted before promptly taking my leave, heading in the direction they had come from. I had only taken a few steps when I heard "Mother''s" voice calling me, like she rarely ever does. "Faye." "Yes, Mother?" I said, turning around. "Your grandfather... during breakfast, your father mentioned that your grandfather had requested your presence." "He did?" "Yes," she nodded, "so... once you''re done with your training, it would be best if you visit him." "I see... Understood. Please tell Father that I''ll go see Grandfather this evening." Seeing that there was nothing else she had to convey, I took my leave for the castle''s backyard, a corner of which served as my training ground. Standing there alone in the middle of a fenced-off area was a tall, bald, and ironically bearded man. Surrounding him were large, sturdily sealed wooden boxes. Upon noticing my arrival, he curtly greeted me, "Good morning, MiLady. Early as per usual today, aren''t we?" Completely ignoring his poor attempt at jesting, I walked up to him, closing in on the box from which noises belonging to living creatures could be heard. "Is this the surprise Ane said you were talking about?" I asked. The man chuckled. "You really don''t like wasting time, do you, Milady?" "Do I look like I do?" "Certainly not," he replied. The man, whose age neared fifty, was garbed in the attire of a warrior. A sword hung at his waist, while several daggers were strategically placed at various points on his chainmail, lending him an air that was both medieval and undeniably fierce. Yet, it was his smile, perhaps the most sincere to be found in the chateau, that softened his otherwise overall barbaric appearance. No longer intent on wasting my time, Justaff led me and Ane to a corner where a lone, equally imposing wooden box sat. As we approached, Justaff positioned himself next to the sturdy container, his hand reaching for a chain that emerged from a small hole on the top. A muffled but potent reaction emanated from within, hinting at the restless nature of the creature confined inside. "What''s inside is unlike anything I''ve shown you before, milady," he warned, "so if you could please step back a few meters," he requested firmly, wrapping the chain around his arm. Not being stupid enough to challenge his caution, I nodded and took a few steps back to a safer distance, my gaze remaining fixed on the ominous box, my heart pounding a little in anticipation. With deliberate care, Justaff approached the box, his hands gripping the chains tightly. He glanced at me, seeking confirmation, to which I replied with a determined nod. On that nod, he pulled, and the lid creaked open, revealing... nothing. At least, not initially. As an anticlimactic silence settled, a low growl echoed from within the box, answered by several others from within their respective boxes. My attention momentarily flickered towards the other containers when suddenly, the creature¡ªa wolf-like black-hided hybrid, that distinguished itself from a regular wolf by an extra set of eyes¡ªleapt forth, charging at us. However it didn¡¯t even make it past two meters away from its box, that it was abruptly halted in its charge by the collar around its neck connected to the chain firmly held by Justaff, who already began reeling the creature back into its box. Though I anticipated such a reaction, Ane, my loyal servant, didn''t. Caught off guard, she stumbled backward and fell. "Are you alright?" Justaff inquired, before I could ask. "I''m fine, I was just taken by surprise," Ane explained, attempting to stand but struggling to do so due to her shaking legs. Without a word, I reached out a hand to assist her. "Thank you, my lady," Ane said gratefully, accepting the help. "And I apologize for that display..." "It''s alright," I assured her. "You may leave if you wish," I said, glancing at the creature, barking, clawing in our direction, trying to get to us but unable to due to Justaff''s grip onto the chain. But Ane was adamant. "I''ll stay, Milady," she declared stubbornly. Come on, don''t be stubborn. "Very well, but I''ll be having my lunch here today, so perhaps¡­ it would be best if you go get it ready for me yourself. I¡¯ll be expecting mine earlier than usual." Ane glanced at Justaff who nodded, agreeing with my suggestion, then said, "I understand, my lady. I will take care of it then," she said with a bow before departing, leaving Justaff, the crates, and the bound wolf-like creature behind. "So, these are my new training partners," I remarked, turning to Justaff. "What kind of creatures are they, and what level?" B1. Chapter 03: Hexfen There were many perks to being born into the Wei? family. Aside from the financial security¡ªa concern I happily left behind in this incarnation¡ªthere were two advantages I was particularly grateful for. First, I was born as a Highbreed, a subrace of humanity endowed with unique skills uncommon to most. Second, and related to the first, the unique circumstances of my birth and the Wei? family''s stature provided me with opportunities to level up that I could only have dreamed of in my past life. Being a Highbreed granted me access to the all-powerful system that regulates the supernatural aspects of this world. With that access, I could choose a class and level up in that class. Unlike other times where I reincarnated as a Verdenkind¡ªanother subrace of humanity that usually imply one¡¯s birth into a normal, powerless family, which meant I had to hide my powers unless I wanted to be perceived as a freak¡ªI, as a daughter of the Wei? family, was instead encouraged to explore and develop the powers I was born with, and that too with unprecedented enthusiasm. Being what I was, a Dungeon Master, while it was my first time encountering such a creature in the flesh, I already knew what the wolf-like creature Justaff presented to me was. It was a Hexfen, a monster classified by the Dungeon Interface as an animalistic monster. This type of monster could be leveled up to a maximum level equivalent to a level 15 Knight, capping at level 10 before its next evolution. I was already well-acquainted with the creature, so I wasn''t particularly interested in Justaff''s explanation of what they were. However, since I had yet to acquire the skill of appraisal, I was interested in the creature''s level. "We had them appraised by your grandfather. They''re all between level 5 to 7," he informed me, motioning towards the chain-bound Hexfen. "This one is level 5, along with three others. There are 16 more at level 6 and 12 at level 7," he declared proudly. "That should be enough to get Milady to her next level, right?" "It should be," I replied frankly. In a barbaric world like Fiendfell, where strength means almost everything¡ªexcept in instances involving money in which the all-powerful, all-controlling system allows one to acquire strength through its leveling, titles, skills, and abilities acquisition system, it is a very natural development that raising one''s level becomes the focus of most who are fortunate enough to have access to such a system. I was no exception. In fact, I was likely one of the most encouraged, nurtured, and, to some extent, softly-pressured individuals into pursuing this path. Yes, the Wei? family into which I was "lucky" enough to be born want me to grow in strength. To achieve this, since it was the only method available, they had me train from a very early age to raise my level. Well, I say "had me," but in truth, it was more of an "allowed me" situation. I also desired to become strong and started suggesting early on that I be trained. Since our objectives aligned in this segment, my wish was easily granted¡ªso easily, in fact, that I was assigned Justaff, a Verdenkind said to be one of the strongest servants of the Wei? family, as a personal trainer. "Would you like to begin now or perhaps later, MiLady?" Justaff asked. "Right now, of course," I replied. He nodded with a smile and said, "Then I believe you should get ready," unsheathing the sword at his waist and slowly loosening his grip over the chain, allowing the creature to take a few more steps in my direction. "I am," I declared, wiping out Wanda, my 6-inches-long wand¡ªa gift from Justaff. Nodding at my word, Justaff let go of the chain, freeing the wolf-like creature, which wasted no time lunging at me. However, it almost instantly came to an abrupt halt when Justaff could be heard shouting, "Eyes on me!" As if I had completely disappeared from the creature''s sight, its attention shifted to Justaff, who, upon activating his class ability, Dominant Presence, forcefully drew the Hexfen''s full aggression towards him. "Come here, big boy," he taunted, waved with his drawn sword, walking in a semi-circle around the wolf-like creature, closing a step at a time toward me. The creature entered what looked like a frenzied state, ready to lunge at Justaff this time. However, before it could do so, I unleashed one of my offensive skills. With a wave of my hand, I called forth [Hydroblast], one of my actively offensive skill, which allowed me to nearly spontaneously conjure a powerful blast of water to strike my target¡ªthe Hexfen. As the Hydroblast struck the Hexfen, the force of the water blast slammed into its side. The Hexfen, being as large as a large wolf, was hefty but not impervious to such an attack. The impact caused it to yelp in pain as it staggered sideways, its weight shifting abruptly as it tried to regain its footing. But before it could, I stepped forth, waving my hand for a second time, unleashing another [Hydroblast]. This second Hydroblast hit the Hexfen while it was still recovering from the initial blast. While the initial Hydroblast failed to knock the creature to the ground, the cumulative force from two consecutive blasts, especially the second one that hit when the creature was already off-balance and slightly disoriented, managed to properly knock it to the ground, sending it tumbling or sliding away from the point of impact. That being said, it wasn¡¯t yet enough damage to defeat it. That was to be expected given the amount of HP these creatures spawn with at level 1. At its current level, which was, by Justaff¡¯s own words, 4, it had at least ten to fifteen times the HP of a level 1 Verdenkind. Given the M.P I currently had, there was a possibility that even if I continuously fired Hydroblast without missing, I might deplete my M.P before it depleted its HP. That''s why, instead of casting Hydroblast for the second time, I cast Winter Clutch, a skill that was ironically one of my highest-level skills despite being one I never really focused on acquiring or leveling up. [Winter Clutch] was a passively offensive skill that inflicted a non-physical frostbite-status attack that would gnaw at a slow but rhythmic pace at the target¡¯s S.P. Despite being my highest-level skill, it wasn¡¯t exactly my strongest. I mainly used it on harmless targets, which is why I was so easily able to level it up to its current level. But I believed it would do fine in a battle of attrition. Since I didn¡¯t have the appraisal skill, I had no way to concretely confirm the effect of my skill. However, from the frosty aura that began enveloping the creature, I was confident that my skill was beginning to gnaw at the creature''s S.P. Despite the sudden onslaught of attack, the Hexfen displayed a respectable level of resilience, shaking off the initial shock of two consecutive attacks. It quickly recovered and instantly recognized the source of its torment. With a fierce determination fueled by instinct and perhaps anger, the creature locked its gaze on me. I could tell from the spiteful look in those four-too-many eyes that the effect of Justaff¡¯s [Dominant Presence] had clearly been warded off. The Winter Clutch skill¡¯s frostbite, while still active and doing its thing, wasn¡¯t a skill that would incapacitate its victim. It simply did its thing¡ªgrinding through the target SP¡ªin silence, meaning that it had not stripped the Hexfen of its ability to fight. What it did, however, was enrage the beast further, pushing it to act on its primal instincts. Charging forth with renewed vigor, the Hexfen closed the distance between itself and me. Its movements may have been slightly hampered by the continuous attacks it just suffered, making its charge less swift but no less determined. I called forth yet another skill of mine, [Frost Shards], which conjured sharp, crystalline projectiles of ice that were hurled forward at the charging Hexfen. The Frost Shards flew through the air, glinting in the light as they sailed towards their target. However, just as the shards were about to strike the Hexfen, the creature activated a skill of its own, displaying on a corner of my field view thanks to my identification skill. With remarkable speed and resilience, the Hexfen tanked the incoming Frost Shards without breaking its charge. The crystalline projectiles may have embedded themselves in the creature''s thick fur or bounced harmlessly off its sturdy hide, mitigating the damage they would have caused. Within seconds, the Hexfen closed the distance between itself and me, narrowing the gap to just a couple of meters. Opening its jaw, it activated yet another skill, ready to swallow me¡ªsomething which, given its size compared to mine, would take less than ten bites to swallow me entirely. It was about to take the first bite of these ten when a shadow wedged itself between me and the creature. It was Justaff, who with a kick, not only stopped the creature¡¯s attempt but sent it reeling back too. "Milady, could it be that you''ve forgotten the first of the big three rules of magic-casting and spell-casting?" He asked, shooting a short glance over his shoulder. "Maintain Distance and Control?" "So you didn''t forget, but did you apply it?" "No," I replied frankly. Maintain Distance and Control. Protect one''s Focus. And last but not least being adaptable to any circumstance. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. I''ve been hammered with these three sentences a thousand times just this year alone, so how could I forget? It was just that knowing that he''ll stand between me and the charging creature, I didn''t even bother trying to put distance between me and the Hexfen, not that it would''ve changed anything; if anything, it would''ve disturbed my focus. "Milady, if your logic is that you already knew that I would put myself between you and the creature, then I would beg that you give up that mentality. You''ve chosen Sorcerer as a class, not Paladin or Monk, but Sorcerer. For a magic-caster such as yourself, distance is your ally. Whether you''re alone or accompanied, it is a must that you keep a safe distance from your opponent while you use your skills and abilities. This not only protects you from immediate physical harm but also allows you to maintain control over the battlefield. Striking from afar gives you, who aren''t blessed with fast speed or barbaric toughness, time to assess the situation and respond strategically," he preached with seemingly no intent on stopping. "So, my Lady, if po¡ª" "I understand," I interrupted, "I got a little carried away," I said as I slowly withdrew toward the background. "So long as you do," he said, taking a few steps to the side in a way that I could still scope the Hexfen before activating his ability again. "Eyes on me," he shouted once again, effectively locking the creature''s attention on him with his skill. This granted me another window for an assault, a window that I didn''t let go to waste. Swinging my wand, mostly out of bad habit rather than actual practical use, I once again unleashed [Hydroblast], for the third time almost consecutively. It might have seemed like I was spamming¡ªand in a way, I was¡ªbut for good reasons. One, it was my strongest offensive skill, and two, the more one uses a skill, the higher the likelihood that the skill will level up. So, in a way, I was spamming so that one of my asset could get stronger. Skills in this world can be acquired in two main ways: spontaneously or through deliberate practice. For instance, one might gain the skill of pyrokinesis simply by gazing intently at a fire or witnessing someone else cast a fire-related skill. These methods might seem random, yet they''re governed by the unseen logic of this world''s overarching "system". Conversely, it''s also possible to acquire skills like swordsmanship through dedicated practice. This dual nature of skill acquisition¡ªpart luck, part effort¡ªis a mystery that even someone like me, who has lived multiple lives, finds perplexing. But to be fair¡ªto be really fair¡ªmost of my lives, as sad as it is to admit, weren''t actually that glorious. So, it''s possible that my limited understanding of how skills are granted is to be blamed on me never managing to reach above level 20, rather than it being an unattainable truth that even an ever-respawning entity like me wasn¡¯t able to reach. That being said, while skills can be acquired either purposely or spontaneously, from level 2 and above, there are also two methods to raise them. They won''t spontaneously level up as they might appear; they have to be worked up for, either by actually raising one''s level or repeatedly using the skill. The former method generally only works when the said skill is related to the chosen class, while the latter, I suppose, sounds very much like a form of training. But unlike conventional "training," which usually includes a highly theoretical component, the training here has to be against a live opponent¡ªmore precisely, one that grants Experience upon defeat. Those were the two methods; our training included both. *** Later in the afternoon, as the second Hexfen struggled against my relentless assault of [Hydroblasts] and [Frost Shard], it couldn¡¯t even counterattack due to Justaff always interfering, either by stopping any counter-attack it tried against me or by locking the creature¡¯s focus onto himself. This caused it to become nothing more than a moving target for me. While the passive effect of my Winter Clutch slowly but surely ground down its SP, it finally began to show signs of weariness. Evading my attacks became a futile endeavor, and even low damage skills like Frost Shard managed to knock it off balance. It looked nothing like it did at the beginning of the training. Though not an appraiser, I could sense the toll my onslaught had taken on its SP and HP. In a rare display of self-preservation, the creature attempted to get away, but Justaff foiled its attempt once again. The creature, relenting to its primal instinct, tried to escape, but as it did, Justaff''s Dominant Presence was once again cast, locking the creature''s attention onto him and thus holding it prisoner for me to execute. Without casting a glance, Justaff casually suggested, "Milady, it¡¯s about time." Time for what? In my old world, it would have been called the "coup de grace." With determination, I summoned forth the skill for which I was given Wanda as a wand by Justaff, despite not being a mage or wizard: [Ice Magic]. A magic circle materialized at the wand''s tip, from which I conjured an arm-sized icicle. Knowing this would mark the end of our training session, I spared no M.P., channeling all the energy I could draw into the spell. With the spell fully formed into what I wanted it to be, I hurled the icy projectile at the Hexfen, its attention still ensnared by Justaff ability¡¯s influence. The icicle soared through the air with deadly accuracy, spearing through the space between us and the Hexfen like a frozen arrow unleashed from the heavens. In the final moments before impact, I could almost hear the silent plea for mercy from the creature, which this time managed to notice the attack but not react to it, its primal instincts warring with the inevitability of its fate. But there was no mercy to be found in the heat of this training, only a cold, calculated execution. With a sickening thud, the icicle pierced the Hexfen''s chest, embedding itself deep within its flesh. As it did, the creature was sent rolling across the ground for several meters in a macabre yet oddly amusing spectacle. Its form twisted and contorted with each impact before finally coming to a halt. Ice Magic Lvl.2> A strange silence fell over us as Justaff and I, for a long ten seconds, watched movements from the creature. But as the icicle piercing shattered into tiny particles, leaving nothing behind to testify to its presence, it no longer moved; it was finally dead. In that moment, I faintly saw Justaff turn toward me, praising, "Well done." It was barely audible, as in that very moment, my view was blurred and my hearing felt like I was underwater. I began to feel like I was about to fall, but Justaff appeared by my side to support me, asking, "You¡¯re alright?" "... I am. I¡¯m alright now. I just depleted my MP and¡­" He cut me off to ask, "At what percentage of fatigue are you now?" Faced with that question, I felt a little embarrassed to answer. With acute mental command, I summoned my status interface. [ Faye¡¯s Interface ] Name: Faye Level: 5 Race: Highbreed Class: Sorcerer Title: N/A Experience: 1890 / 3693 [Status] - H.P: 21 / 21 - M.P: 1 / 147 (+37) - S.P: 19 / 19 - Fatigue: 83% - Defense: 3 - Offense: 34 [Attributes] - Strength: 1 - Agility: 1 - Constitution: 2 - Intelligence: 5 - Wisdom: 7 - Charisma: 5 - Faith: 1 [Skills] - Hydroblast: Level 3 - Identification: Level 5 - Ice Magic: Level 2 - Frost Shards: Level 2 - Eagle Eye: Level 1 - Lowered Temperature: Level 2 - Mana Reservoir: Level 2 - Winter Clutch: Level 3 - Cryognize: Level 3 [Abilities] - Elemental Affinity (Ice): Unlocked ¡ºExpand¡» "...83," I replied, feeling a little embarrassed. Hearing me, Justaff winced and sat me down on the grass, clearly about to unleash a lecture on me. "Perhaps I should add that as a fourth one of our maxims for magic-casting and spell-casting¡ªno, this doesn¡¯t just apply to magic-casting and spell-casting, it applies to every class, even the physical ones: never under any circumstance allow your fatigue percentage to go above 80%, unless perhaps you¡¯re a barbarian who decided to sacrifice his life to buy time. But you¡¯re not a barbarian nor are trying to buy your friend time so that should never happen." I nodded, hoping that this would bring the lecture to an end, but he continued, "At 50%, you should already be very worried about the state of things. At 60%, you should already consider if the battle is really worth it, think of a way of getting out of trouble. And at 70%, you should already be in the process running away. Never confront anything past that percentage of fatigue." "I understand." "Since you do, you should be able to understand what you did wrong here?" "Yes, I should¡¯ve agreed to put an end to our training earlier this afternoon?" He nodded. "But," I added, wanting to retort at least once, "At least it was worth it?" "Worth it? Did you level up any of your skills?" I nodded, "My Ice Magic went from level 1 to level 2." "I see," he mumbled, casting a glance at the creature''s corpse, before adding, "I suppose that indeed makes it worth it," he looked like he was about to congratulate me but noticing Ane running over, he stopped. "My Lady, what happened? Are you hurt anywhere?" Frantically asked Ane, warily checking on me for injuries. "I¡¯m fine. I haven¡¯t been hurt or anything," I reassured them, though Ane seemed to look toward Justaff for confirmation. "Your Lady is fine," he chuckled. "She¡¯s just a little exhausted. You should escort her to her quarters and have her rest for the day." "That won¡¯t be possible," I promptly retorted. "At least not immediately. I still have to talk to Grandfather after this. He summoned me." I could tell that Ane considered suggesting that I report to him another day, but ultimately chose not to voice it. "I see," Justaff mused. "Speaking of your grandfather, I talked to him yesterday while appraising these monsters. We discussed the possibility of moving our training to the chateau¡¯s dungeon." Foreseeing the reason for this suggestion, I nodded. "As you know, our training is getting a little dangerous for a garden like this. While I¡¯m confident in my ability to handle the creatures used for your training, accidents can happen. So, it¡¯s best to move this training of yours, and the creatures involved, especially considering how exponentially stronger they need to be along with you, to a place where they won¡¯t put other people in danger." Having been reborn times and times again, I always felt embarrassed by how easily kids were praised for even the most basic achievements. So, each time¡ª and by that, I mean a lot of times¡ªI cringed at most compliments I received. But compliments like these, which involved my evolution within the system¡¯s progression, I accepted with open arms and a smile. B1. Chapter 04: A Daughter of the Wei? family "My Lady." "Mh?" "I¡¯ve always been curious; what song is it that you¡¯re humming?" As we walked, I didn¡¯t notice when I started doing it, but I¡¯d started humming. Upon it being pointed out, I immediately stopped. "I often hear you humming it. It sounds familiar to me, but I can¡¯t quite put my hand on where I¡¯ve heard it before." "I don¡¯t know. If it¡¯s not you, then this has to be one of her songs; I must¡¯ve heard it from her¡ªmy mother, then it stayed," I said, half lying and half telling the truth. The moment I made mention of my mother, Ane immediately tensed up. "I see," she simply said then on that word, she decided to sink into a silence that she only broke when asking, "Are you sure about going in like this?" before suggesting. "How about a bath and then heading there later in the evening?" "No, I¡¯ll be fine like this." "Understood," she replied, relenting to my decision. As Ane and I traversed one of the castle¡¯s many, overly large corridors, our destination this time was not the backyard but deeper and higher within the castle¡ªto Grandfather¡¯s room. The day had already stretched into the late evening. Having been summoned since this morning, it was about time I made my way there. If given the choice, I would have certainly preferred to wait until tomorrow. I was the first person who wanted to take a bath and sleep until the next day. However, this was one of those rare obligations I couldn¡¯t simply ignore. As much as I didn¡¯t feel like, gotta please Grandpa. After some more walking, we arrived at the segment of the corridor leading straight to Grandfather¡¯s room. The door was already in sight, but an unexpected commotion unfolded before it. What¡¯s this? A group of young girls, all in their early teens and about my age or perhaps slightly older, were clustered around a tall figure. As we approached, the figure seemed to notice us, and my pace slowed, partly from confusion. Could it be that I wasn¡¯t the only one summoned by the old man? As we drew closer, the girls, who had been previously clinging to the tall figure, dispersed, allowing me a clear view. Most of them had black hair, except for one who appeared the youngest and barely older than me, with a hint of red in her hair. But even then, with or without the black hair, from their bone structure to their eyebrows, and the expression on their faces when they noticed me, they looked very much like the two siblings of mine I had encountered earlier in the day. DNA tests wouldn¡¯t be needed for these ones; the family¡¯s genes did their thing. Unlike the siblings from this morning¡¯s lavish robes, these girls were dressed more modestly. Yet, from the perspective of someone who hadn''t known much luxury and understood true humility, their attire still seemed rather elegant to me. Casting a simultaneous glance at the man they had previously clung to, they bid what looked like a quick goodbye before taking their leave. As they did, they walked in our direction. A few meters before closing on me, they, with a slight bow and very simultaneously, greeted, "Good evening, Little Sister." "Good evening, sisters," I greeted back. As they simply walked past me after our brief exchange of greetings, I couldn''t help but feel a bit let down. I had braced myself for at least a short yet very boring chit-chat, but there was none. Come on, sisters, I thought, feeling a bit disgruntled. I''m fine with you doing that to me, but what about appearances? People will think there''s some bad blood between us when there''s none. Pushing aside the brief encounter, I quickened my pace to reach the man standing at Grandfather¡¯s doorstep. With a polite curtsy, I greeted him, "Good evening, Lord Father." "Good evening, Faye," he greeted back. He was clad in a black robe adorned with the Wei? family''s sigil on the chest area. Although he didn''t look drastically different from the man I remembered from the day I acquired the eagle eye skill, which granted me heightened vision, I could see the subtle changes time had wrought on him. His once entirely black hair was now beginning to turn gray. Eleven years had passed since then, after all. The man who once appeared to be in his late forties now truly seemed to be in his fifties. Along with gray hair, wrinkles had etched their story into his face, making him resemble more closely the man he had stood beside that day. Completely overlooking Ane¡¯s presence, he scrutinized me briefly. "Done with today¡¯s training?" he then inquired. "Yes, we''ve just finished. I was about to meet Grandfather; I heard from Mother that he summoned me. And you, Father, did he summon you too?" I asked, genuinely curious about his presence here. "I was waiting for you," he revealed. "Waiting for me?" I echoed, slightly surprised. "Follow me," he instructed, leading the way. "Your grandfather isn¡¯t in his room; he''s in the library." "I see," I replied, a bit taken aback but intrigued. So, you¡¯ll be my valet today then? I thought, humorously considering the situation as I followed him. "How was your training today?" he inquired, glancing back at me as we walked. I would simply say "great", I thought to myself, but feeling that such a terse reply wouldn''t suit the image of a loving daughter I was supposed to project, I elaborated instead, "Thank you for arranging for the new creatures, Father. They were precisely what I needed." "I was informed by Justaff that the creatures you were training with didn¡¯t help you level up or acquire new skills anymore, so all I did was do what seemed necessary," he explained. "Even so, thank you, Father," I said, making sure he felt that his daughter appreciated his efforts. "You¡¯re welcome, then." He glanced over his shoulder at me and slowed his pace slightly. "So, how is it looking?"If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Great. I managed to level up a skill that had been stagnant at level 1 for quite some time." "Oh? That is indeed great. Which skill is it?" He asked, showing genuine interest. "Ice Magic." "Ice Magic¡­" He echoed, falling into a thoughtful silence for a moment. After a dozen steps, he remarked, "You really do have a knack for ice-related skills." It was true; the majority of the skills I possessed were related to ice, save for that Hydroblast. I had a few that weren¡¯t, but they were indeed in the minority. The very first skill I ever unlocked was [Winter''s Clutch]. It manifested spontaneously one winter day, long before I began any formal training, making me, at that time, a barely four-year-old girl who had unlocked a skill capable of weakening someone to the brink of death. Even now, I couldn¡¯t definitively say if I unlocked the skill because of the wintry weather, if it was destined to happen that day, if it was a combination of both factors, or if there was an entirely different reason altogether. What I did know, however, was that after unlocking that first ice-related skill, especially after choosing Sorcerer as a class, I began to acquire one ice-related skill after another. "It seems I do, Father." With a thoughtful demeanor, he added, "However, Ice Magic... It''s not typically within the repertoire of the Sorcerer Class. Normally, it''s a skill more commonly associated with mages, wizards, or even druids. The fact that you can level it up is quite intriguing..." Cleric, Warlock, Druid, Mage, Healer, Summoner¡ªthese were the 6 magic-focused core classes that can be chosen through the system. Each, despite a shared affinity for magic, showcased unique approaches and prerequisites for their respective crafts. Ice magic was one such skill that displayed the distinctions between the six classes. Unlike other "magic" skills, Ice Magic was not commonly wielded by Sorcerers; it was, as he mentioned, a skill more aligned with the domain of mages, wizards, and at times druids. After all, such skills contradicted the very essence of the Sorcerer class. The adage went that Sorcerers dealt in spells, whereas mages dealt in magic. It might sound similar, but one encompassed a broader spectrum of magic, while the other focused on a specific aspect. "......perhaps you would really have excelled as a mage had you chosen that path," he mused, halting at the library¡¯s threshold. "I don''t mean that as a criticism, of course. It''s just an observation." I responded with a simple nod, acknowledging his point without further comment. With my acknowledgment, he turned to open the library door fully, stepping aside to allow Ane and me entry. Crossing the threshold, I was immediately enveloped by the unmistakable aroma of ancient books¡ªa scent I hadn¡¯t known to cherish until this moment. Despite never considering myself an avid reader, I found a certain allure in this fragrance; it was captivating in its unique way. The library unfolded before us, its size defying initial expectations set by the modest entrance. It was a vast space, with multiple levels combined into a single grandiose area, housing countless shelves filled with scrolls and parchment. Given Fiendfell¡¯s prolonged stasis in a medieval-like era, the predominance of such ancient mediums only added to the room''s historic charm. Above us, a magnificent chandelier dangled from the high ceiling, its light mirroring the brightness of day. Sunlight, filtered through stained-glass windows, fractured into a spectrum of colors upon the crystals, casting vibrant hues throughout the library. This illumination bathed the entire room in a warm, inviting glow, reminiscent of perpetual daylight. "When you find the time, you should visit the library more frequently," he suggested, his voice carrying a hint of solemnity. "The four centuries of Wei? family history¡ªour most precious knowledge¡ªare preserved here. While training is important it is also crucial for you to learn about our history." "Yes, Father, I will." I said, not meaning a word of what I just said. Acting akin to a valet, he led us through the library to a corner distinctly different from the rest. Here, instead of bookshelves, the walls were graced with giant, colorful paintings. This gallery, predominantly composed of portraits, radiated with colors so vivid, it seemed as if the artists had just laid down their brushes. The paintings varied widely in style and subject but were unified by a vibrancy that stood in sharp contrast to the aged parchment and leather binding the nearby tomes. In the midst of this colorful canvas, a man stood behind his easel, deeply engrossed in his work. His concentration was palpable, locking onto his canvas with a focus that seemed to exclude the world around him. However, the moment he detected our presence, his trance-like state shattered, and he looked up. "Father, Faye is here," our guide announced, stepping aside to grant me visibility. "I can see that," the older man retorted, rising from his station behind the canvas. As he approached, he engaged in an action that would forever brand him as an asshole in my memory. Warned by my [Identification] skill, I instantly felt it¡ªthe sensation akin to being licked all over my body, from every imaginable direction. It was not painful, but deeply unsettling and distressingly uncomfortable. The source of my discomfort, now standing before me, forced me to crane my neck to meet his gaze, given his considerable height. Despite his advanced age, his stature remained imposing. Yet, time had reversed the colors of his hair from predominantly black to predominantly white, and wrinkles that were once scarce now prominently marked his face. If time had spared his physique, it had exacted its toll on his visage instead. Facing the man with a glare, as if to protest the invasive nature of his scrutiny, I greeted him with a mix of respect and undisguised discomfort, "Good evening, your Grace Grandfather." "Good evening, Faye," he replied, his tone acknowledging my progress. "I can see that you''ve made advancements." "I have. And while I would have been more than willing to report them myself, it seems I won''t have that opportunity, will I?" I said my words dripped with open sarcasm, not bothering to veil my irritation at his method of ''appraisal.'' He chuckled, devoid of any semblance of regret, "You''ll have to forgive me. I have this old habit of using my appraisal skill whenever I get the chance." Internally, I couldn''t help but sneer at his justification. Was he trying to level up his skill, or was there another motive? Even if that were the case, I doubted it would make much difference at his age and level. "Old habits die hard," he remarked, as if that excused anything. "At least have the decency to spare us," my so-called valet, or rather, "father," interjected, walking over to where the old man had been seated before our arrival to inspect his painting. "There¡¯s nothing more uncomfortable than the sensation your skill induces. It''s unsettling enough for me, so I can only imagine how it feels to a young lady." At the mention of "young lady," the Old man cast a scrutinizing glance at me, as if sizing me up. Despite not embodying the typical image of a young lady in my current attire, I had indeed grown into one in this incarnation. So yes, esteemed "grandfather," I would indeed prefer if you ceased invading my privacy. As always, it took some time for me to fully regain my memories and realize the complex situation I had landed in, by being born¡ªor rather, reborn¡ªinto this life. Being appraised almost immediately after birth was a disconcerting welcome into the world. While I could see the value in being appraised for someone eager to prove their worth without a demonstration, the rationale for appraising a newborn escaped me, at least initially. It wasn''t until later that I understood the family I had spawned in that I did. The more I pondered it, the more I realized the extent of the entanglement I was in. Firstly, that unsolicited appraisal exposed my name¡ªor rather, the designation I had simply accepted as such. It rendered me suspicious from the outset, and as a helpless newborn, there was little I could do to alter my predicament. Being what I was, a baby, I didn¡¯t even have the sufficient mental capacity to access the interface to change my name, something I normally would do upon reaching an age where such actions were possible, I was left powerless. I could only hope that the Goddess and the Mighty K.R.U.L. would make my family dismiss the name, which was in a language foreign to this world, as a system glitch or error. Secondly, being appraised at birth stripped me of the opportunity to conceal my inherent access to the system. In all my reincarnations, I had mostly been born into families of peons, and only one where I spawned into a Verdenkind family. Thus, I had always managed to keep my status as a natural-born verdenkind¡ªa human with system access¡ªa secret, one that I could choose to reveal or forever hold secret. Of course, being born into a Highbreed family in this incarnation meant that my access to the system was expected; all Highbreeds have such access at age 7 to 9. However, being appraised immediately upon birth revealed that I usually incarnate with one or two random skills or abilities, or sometimes both. This fact, coupled with the unusual name I had at birth, undoubtedly marked me as an exceptionally suspicious infant in the eyes of many. Yet, fortunately for me¡ªvery fortunately¡ªthe family into which I had been born chose to see something else in me beyond mere suspicion. B1. Chapter 05: Wei? formerly Royal family Staring at me, "Grandfather" asked, "Do you mind if I use my appraisal skill on you, Faye?" Feeling like it was one of those test questions he annoyingly tended to ask, I replied frankly, "Yes." But then I promptly added, "But since I have [Identification], being appraised sometimes helps level up that skill. So, as long as it does, I don¡¯t particularly mind, though I might complain at times." This tendency of him to appraise me likely stemmed from the fact that, eleven years ago, through [Appraisal] he noticed the particularity that I was born with, which makes it that each time I reincarnate, I spawn with either a skill or an ability, and if I was fortunate, both. Identification was one such skill I was spawned with. Like the old man''s appraisal, it wasn''t an actively offensive skill like [Frost Shard] or a passively offensive skill like [Winter Clutch], nor was it a defensive skill. They were both interface analysis skills, cousins to one another, fulfilling similar purposes but accomplishing them through different means. One worked analytically only on live targets or entities, while the other worked exclusively on inanimate targets. Therefore, they were best acquired as a bundle rather than separately, as having just one would mean missing out on half of the analytical features. Perhaps because he lacked the other skill in the analytical bundle, or perhaps because he wanted to keep a close eye on me given my unusual circumstances at birth¡ªlikely a combination of both¡ªhe developed the nasty habit of appraising me whenever the opportunity arose. Ironically there were indeed changes, but these changes were brought about as a consequence of his continuous appraisals. These changes didn¡¯t happen overnight, but rather emerged gradually over time. Picking up on the appraisals I was subjected to, [Identification] became, at the tender age of four, the first skill I ever leveled up beyond level 1. Recognizing that this progress was a result of his actions, he began appraising me even more frequently, turning these sessions into perhaps the earliest form of training I had ever undergone. "Beautifully said. Such a unique skill is to be leveled up to its maximum potential, regardless of the discomfort it brings about. In the long run, this discomfort will be nothing. You understand that. I guess I can¡¯t expect the same from someone who wasn¡¯t born with such a skill," he said, casting a glance at his son, who very much heard what was said about him but feigned not hearing anything. Already fed up with this unwanted interaction, I asked, "Grandfather, you summoned me. Is there something you wanted to tell me in particular?" "Something to tell you, huh? Couldn¡¯t it just be that I wanted to see my granddaughter?" As if I''d believe that. I was pondering how to respond when I heard his son say, "Well, your granddaughter isn¡¯t gullible enough to believe that¡¯s just the case," he remarked sarcastically. "And yet it is," the old man asserted, then turned his attention toward me before awkwardly reaching for my head. What¡¯s the deal with this old man today? I couldn¡¯t help but seethe internally. Perhaps sensing my reluctance to this loving display, or perhaps realizing that it didn''t suit him, the old man removed his hand from my head and said, "I take it you must be very exhausted after your training. I won¡¯t take much of your time." With those words, he led me away to a corner of the room, away from his son. "I¡¯ve seen you¡¯ve managed to level up your ice magic." "Yes, Grandfather," having had the same conversation a few minutes ago and foreseeing where it was heading, I added, "I also leveled [Cryogenize], [Hydroblast], and [Winter Clutch] to level 3." Aware of how heavily invested he was in my leveling, this was the only way I could think of to avoid hearing another remark about how I should have chosen the mage class instead of the sorceress class. "I see," he said, then chuckled, gazing to the side. Following his gaze, my sight landed on a large painting on the wall. His chuckle didn¡¯t stop soon and turned into laughter, which then turned into a cough. "Grandfather? You¡¯re alright?" "It¡¯s alright, it¡¯s nothing. I¡¯m alright. I just found it ironically laughable that six generations after my grandfather made the decision to marry a highbreed, thus making our Wei? family a highbreed family, the latest generation, which happened to be the generation that gave birth to someone closest to what our family has ever dreamed of, gave birth to a highbreed with no typical highbreed characteristics." In Fiendfell, Highbreed were one of the three subraces of what was in this world called humanity, other than Peons and Verdenkind. Highbreed was a subrace of mankind known mainly for three things: First, it was a subrace that had the unique characteristic to pass on the hereditary trait of having access to the system. With that characteristic, there is thus no such thing as a half-highbreed. The moment a highbreed is involved as one of the biological parents, the subrace of the other parent matters not; the children born will be a highbreed, just like the children of that highbreed. They will be, like Verdenkind, humans having access to the system. Second, it was a subrace of humanity that was granted the unique access to one additional levelable attribute¡ªfaith, on top of the conventional six¡ªStrength, Agility, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma. Third, Highbreed were a subrace of humanity that more usually than not possessed an innate affinity for healing and holy-type skills, making it very easy to spontaneously acquire the said-skills. But that wasn¡¯t all; healing and holy skills were skills that scaled to the additional faith attribute they were born with like a barbarian''s skills scaled to the strength attribute. This inherent advantage provided by their additional levelable attribute made them exceptionally well-suited for cleric or paladin classes and subclasses, where their prowess in healing and holy magic shines brightest. That being said, while it¡¯s common, it is not always the case for every Highbreed; there are exceptions. Having never acquired either healing or holy-type skills, not due to lack of trying to acquire them¡ªI have tried through different types of training that could help me spontaneously acquire one of the two types of skills my fellow Highbreed are known to acquire without much struggle¡ªI was one such exception. That being said, I wasn¡¯t a unique exception per se. In fact, in this family, I had two other siblings who, while being around the same age as me, didn¡¯t acquire any of these two kinds of skills, but still, it was a little disheartening. Not that I particularly wanted to become a Cleric or a Paladin, but since I got to be born as a Highbreed in this incarnation, I wanted to at least acquire all these features Highbreeds are praised for. Instead, what I got was Ice Magic. Not that I¡¯m complaining though, but I believed that had I been born with these skills or awakened these skills later on like most Highbreed, I would¡¯ve been spared half of the remarks usually made about my class choice. "Sorry for that¡­" "What are you apologizing for Child? There wasn¡¯t much you could do about it. This is something no one except fate has control over. You can¡¯t be blamed for having no inherent predisposition for healing magic or holy magic. Though I have to admit, I would¡¯ve loved seeing you do, and perhaps became a paladin." Too bad for you, that will never happen. Out of the two classes, cleric and paladin, if I were to choose one out of the two, paladin is what I was less likely to become. It was a class that hybridized physical and magical abilities. In other words, paladins were halfway between a conventional warrior or knight and a mage or sorcerer, leaning mostly toward the two former than the latter. It was a class in which it was best if one were predisposed with skills that dealt physical damage like swordsmanship. However, despite all the training I went through and how easily this skill is said to be acquired for a classless, I never managed to acquire [Swordsmanship] and most likely never will, until perhaps I reach the dual-class milestone. Understanding that, I began focusing on what I currently knew I had talent in¡ªskills that dealt magical damage. Sliding a short glance my way before refocusing onto the large painting in front of him, the old man asked, "Do you know whose painting this is?" I nodded. The painting was that of a man. He stood tall, his auburn hair cascading around his shoulders like flames caught in a gentle breeze. Atop his head rested a large silver crown, regal in its simplicity, devoid of ostentation but commanding reverence nonetheless. His attire struck a balance between warrior and dignitary, adorned with meticulously crafted animal hides that lent an air of sophistication to the ensemble, elevating it beyond mere battle garb to ceremonial regalia. A broad leather belt encircled his waist, from which hung a scimitar, its hilt polished to a gleaming sheen. On his left side, a dagger nestled snugly against his hip, its blade glinting in the subdued light of the chamber. But it was the object in his hand that drew the most intrigue¡ªa short staff, slender yet sturdy, its purpose disguised beneath the guise of a cane. Only those familiar with the way of magic would discern its true nature, for nestled at its tip lay a large azure crystal, its depths, while frozen in the painting, looked like they were swirling with untold mysteries.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. "¡ªhis Majesty Desmond, the first Fifth King under his Imperial Majesty Cleon the First and Only." To the first part of my answer, the old man smiled and nodded in pride, "Indeed, this is our ancestor, his Majesty Desmond, also known as the Mage Warrior, the father of our Wei? family¡¯s founder." That was right, the Wei? family found its roots back to a king, a Verdenkind king, who, along with seven kings, followed the current emperor through a 424-year rule until his death at the ripe age of 612. 612¡­.That sure didn¡¯t sound like an age where someone normally lives, but with something such as the system bestowing skills onto living beings of this world, this was not too surprising to hear. In fact, I could easily name what skill allowed him to live that long. It was a skill called longevity, wielded by all seven kings and the emperor, who managed to level the skill to its paroxism, granting him virtual eternal life. Meanwhile, it granted his kings, who didn¡¯t manage to accomplish such a feat, an elongated lifespan, allowing them to serve their emperor for hundreds of years. Had it not been for the fact that he knew I''ve already heard all of it, I could tell that the old man would''ve taken pride in explaining to me how our ancestor became king. He would have delighted in recounting the unparalleled feat of the ancestor, who made it past level 100 as a Battlemage¡ªa dual class between mage and warrior¡ªand leveled his longevity skill up to level 4. He would have described how, after the acquisition of Cleon, the First and Only, of the monarch class with the help of the First and Second King, he was offered the title of [King] by the Emperor, allowing him to become the Fifth King under the emperor''s rule and establish the foundation of the later-to-be-created Wei? Royal dynasty. Making a few steps to the right, he arrived before the painting right next to it. In the adjacent painting stood another figure, mirroring the noble bearing of the man in the previous painting yet marked by subtle deviations. Like the first, he stood tall and commanding, his auburn locks flowing freely around his shoulders, though lacking the regal crown that adorned the head of his predecessor. His attire, reminiscent of the first man''s, bore the hallmarks of a warrior and statesman, the finely crafted animal hides lending an air of refinement to the ensemble. A broad leather belt cinched his waist, much like the other''s, but instead of cradling a scimitar, it held aloft a white sword of exquisite craftsmanship. Its equally white hilt, adorned with shimmering gems, spoke of wealth and luxury, contrasting with the understated elegance of the first man''s weaponry. Though his overall garb portrayed the man as a warrior, there lingered mainly in his posture an air of emulation that struck me as evident. I mainly blame that impression on his empty hands, and also the fact that knowing the history of the man in the picture, I knew that had to be the case of what was going on here. "Son of our ancestor, King Desmond¡­ his Highness Aemond¡ªthe one who ushered in the Wei?¡¯s royal dynasty." Prior to Aemond, who later established the Wei?¡¯s royal family, King Desmond, while being "king," ruled over nothing. For the most part, he lived as he¡¯d always lived, a Battlemage seeking nothing but strength. He treated his title of King as just what it was for the most part¡ªa System Title that provided him with several boosts that he deemed useful. It was only later in his long lifetime, when he had his son¡ªa peon¡ªthat with his kingly support, his son established the Royal family and ruled over it. That was the feats of this Peon prince. In a world that greatly valued power manifested through earth-splintering skills and law-altering abilities, it couldn''t be argued that his feats were nowhere near as impressive as those of his kingly father, but he managed to establish a dynasty that lasted several generations. Staring at the picture for a few more seconds, the old man moved on to the next picture. Unlike the previous ones, he didn¡¯t spend much time in front of them, instead moving on, navigating through the gallery that showcased the successive heads of the Wei? royal family following Prince Aemond. He bypassed several paintings with only a cursory glance, his pace unhurried yet deliberate, until he arrived at a particular piece that compelled both of us to a standstill. Him because the person in the picture ushered a new age for his family, and me because I¡¯d heard about the bastard in the painting in a previous life of mine. Unlike the previous paintings, which captured single figures within their frames, this one depicted two: a man and a woman. The man bore a striking resemblance to his forebear, King Desmond; his stature lofty, and his hair shared the same distinctive shade of auburn. Yet, his facial features, while echoing the royal lineage, thankfully hinted at enough variation to dispel any immediate concerns of, well, incest¡ªwhich, let¡¯s be honest with ourselves, wouldn¡¯t be all that surprising for royals. Something unique about the man in the painting was that, unlike the previous painting where neither figure wore a crown save for King Desmond, he did. He wore a silver crown¡ªone that could easily be inferred to be the same one King Desmond wore. Standing next to him was a woman. She appeared younger than the man, who literally towered over her with his height. While he looked to be in his mid-forties, she looked like she was in her early twenties, if not late teens. But most importantly, what stood out the most about her were her hair¡ªshe had black hair, which is now more or less the trademark of the Wei? family. It was at that moment, as I saw the old man stare at me with a frown, just like Ane behind me, that I realized what they were staring at me for : the expression on my face. I instantly dispelled it for a more acceptable one. Guessing why he glanced at me, I recited through and through as if I¡¯d been quizzed, "I know who these two are. They were Grandfather¡¯s grandparents, his Highness Desmond IV Wei? and his beloved Lady Rafaella, the Highbreed Princess of the W?hppr faith," before promptly elaborating on what the couple was known for. While the Longevity skill enabled the emperor who managed to level the skill to its limit to be virtually immortal, and his kings who weren¡¯t able to achieve feat but nonetheless managed to level the skill to a point where they¡¯d been granted an elongated lifetime. But an elongated lifetime, meant that they, unlike their emperor, weren¡¯t immortal. After hundreds of years, time caught up with the kings who weren¡¯t able to level their longevity skill. This is what happened to the Wei? ancestor¡ªhis Majesty Desmond. After having lived for almost six centuries, the Wei? dynasty, having existed for a little over a century and a half, was about to lose its greatest support¡ªits king. This, as anyone could easily suspect, brought about an unprecedented crisis within the Wei? family. They understood that without their ancestor, their king, they would be, in the eyes of the emperor and the other existing kingly factions, no different than any other peons. They had pride, but at least they were realistic about the power-hungry and strength-worshiping nature of this world. While there was nothing they could do to fix the impending death of their king, they understood that they had to produce someone who could take over the role of support that their king provided. The then heir to the Wei? dynasty was aware that this was something he could not do himself, since unlike his grandfather, who was a Verdenkind, he was nothing but a "Peon". However, it was something that could be done by the heir he would produce. Being a peon himself, he knew that the chance of him producing a Verdenkind was low, and it was a bet with a high risk of no payoff. It was then that he understood that the only way for him to produce an heir that may replace his ancestor¡ªor at the very least grant him the tool to even attempt to do so¡ªwas to marry a Highbreed. Regardless of whether one of the parents was a Verdenkind or a Peon, the child born of a union with at least one Highbreed would be a Highbreed. In light of that, and a signed alliance with those of the W?hppr Faith, one of the three main worship factions of the land of Men, Desmond IV Wei? married Lady Rafaella, an Highbreed Princess of mysterious origins. Thus, the Wei? family, which had thus far been a officially Verdenkind, but mostly peons dynasty, became a Highbreed dynasty until it came to an end not too long after the death of King Desmond. "It was hopeless¡­ It was then, to at least ensure our family''s survival, that he agreed to put an end to the Wei? dynasty, demoting the Wei?s from a Royal family to a Ducal family." The old man seemed to be trying to decipher the expression I had accidentally let slip. He stared at me for a moment before giving up and looking back at the painting, nodding in agreement. "It is just as you said, our great family has been demoted from a Royal dynasty to being kings of nothing but empty land," he chuckled bitterly, having most likely witnessed the event with his own two eyes. It took him a few moments to abstract his feelings from that event before he said, "I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve been told before, but it is that you are named after." Raising my glance, I looked at the black-haired woman in the painting. "Faye¡­ Rafaella." So, that''s where my name came from. Here I was, thinking that woman had at least the decency to find a unique name for me. I guess that was too much to expect. "I see," I mumbled, my curiosity piqued. "What kind of woman was she?" The old man closed his eyes, as if reminiscing, "She was strict but kind. She looked frail but was strong, stronger than anyone else in our family back then." "What level was she?" I asked, considering my own struggles with leveling. "She¡­ Now that I think about it, she hated being appraised too." To be frank with you Old man I can¡¯t imagine someone liking that. Save perhaps masochists. "She was a level 22 Cleric." Having reached level 5 myself and understanding how increasingly difficult it is to raise one''s level, I could genuinely praise the achievement. "She was strong." "She was," he confirmed, his voice carrying a mix of respect and nostalgia. While hesitant, I ventured to ask about the man beside her in the painting, "And¡­ him, how was he?" "Him? Grandfather was wise¡­ and avenant. I used to believe him to be a coward for choosing this outcome over any other. But I was young then. Now, I''m old, and I understand that it had to be done. Had it not been done, with how much people envied what we had, there would be no Wei? family anymore." I nodded, absorbing his words. "We may no longer be kings, but we can still be," he said, smiling as he took a few steps forward, walking past a portrait of himself, crownless, next to which was a painting of his son, also without a crown. "I won''t be there to see it, but one day, a painting of your little brother Cleon will hang next to his father''s," he said, pointing at an empty spot next to the last painting. "Come on, Father, you''re not that old," my valet of father said, walking up to us. Completely ignoring his son, the old man continued, "My dream is that one day, beside Cleon''s painting, yours will also be hung there." The gallery displayed portraits of the lineage of the king and family heads of the Wei? family, formerly royal, from the oldest to the newest member. I was a girl in a strangely patriarchal society like this one; despite being older than my younger brother, he would be the one at the head of the family. Yet, for him to wish to see my portrait there meant that my portrait was not to be hung there as a token of family status but rather through that of a king. "I will do my best so that it is the case." He smiled, then solemnly said, "Then you see me relieved. From the day I saw you¡ªborn with that same skill I saw the ancestor die with¡ªI could tell that you¡¯d be the one. You may have not chosen the same class as he did, but I won¡¯t doubt your choice. I just hope that they¡¯ll lead you to and hopefully beyond the height our ancestor reached, and that once you do, you restore our family name to its former glory." I looked him in the eyes. "I will," I lied tersely. "Let us hope so." Sorry, old man, if I ever get that powerful, I doubt that restoring this family name to its former glory will be what I''d be doing. B1. Epilogue As the young man watched the rehearsal from the podium in the left corner of the restaurant, a petite waitress approached with a delicate stride. Her hair was a soft chestnut, pulled into a high ponytail, and her warm brown eyes gleamed as she placed the colorful plate in front of him. "Your special combo, Shrimp-Lobster, Sir," she said with a polite smile. He looked up, offering a gentle smile in return. "Thank you," he said, his voice low. The girl smiled back, a little more bashful this time, before retreating toward her fellow waitresses, who had been stealing glances his way. He glanced over at them, catching their smiles before his attention returned to the dish in front of him. The plate was an artful presentation: large, perfectly grilled shrimp skewered alongside a bright red lobster tail stuffed with a golden, crispy crust. A side of seared scallops added to the luxurious seafood trio, laid out atop a bed of fresh greens. The scent was intoxicating¡ªa mixture of ocean breeze and savory butter, with a faint hint of garlic that made his stomach tighten in anticipation. Picking up his fork, he gently sliced into the lobster, taking his first bite. The succulent meat was tender, buttery, and flavorful. He nearly let out a moan but caught himself, chewing slowly to savor the moment. "He wasn''t wrong for suggesting I check this combo," he whispered to himself. "It''s divine." The shrimp, equally delectable, was crisp on the outside with a smoky char from the grill, the taste of the sea still present in every bite. He smiled, remembering how these delicacies had been fished from the Parting Sea that morning. This place, known for centuries for its seafood mastery, always had the freshest ingredients, delivered daily from the sea, and had perfected the art of cooking them to perfection. It was an art passed through generations. As the artist rehearsed on the stage, the sound of their performance filled the space. He continued to eat, thoroughly absorbed in the meal. The combination of flavors danced on his palate, from the briny sweetness of the scallops to the rich, buttery lobster. Before he knew it, the plate was empty. He leaned back, considering going for another round. Just as the thought crossed his mind, one of the waitresses¡ªthe same one who had served him¡ªapproached. "Would you like a refill, sir?" she asked with a soft smile. For a moment, he was tempted, but remembering the tasks ahead of him, he shook his head. "That''ll be all for me," he said, pulling a Cleor coin from his pocket and placing it in her hand. "That being said, I''m sure I''ll be back tonight, so could you leave some more for me and have a room ready? This should cover everything. You can keep the change." "Thank you, sir," she replied, her cheeks flushed with gratitude. He poured himself a final glass of water, then stood up, reaching for his sword, "Trouble"¡ªan accessory that didn''t quite match his fancy outfit for the day. His attire was sleek and refined, a far cry from his usual knightly garments, but even on a day like today, he couldn''t bear to part with the weapon. "Sorry for this," he said, slightly embarrassed. "I can''t separate myself from it." "It''s alright," the waitress replied, shaking her head. "Adventurers and handlers do that all the time." "I see," he said with a chuckle. "You''re an adventurer, right, sir?" she asked curiously. He nodded in confirmation, to which her eyes widened. "Wow, so it''s true! You''re really an adventurer, even though you''re so young!" At her comment, he chuckled again. "Appearance can be very deceiving," he said, a subtle warning. But before she could dwell on his words, he added, "Anyway, miss, I''m in a bit of a hurry. We can talk more when I return this evening." With that, he turned and made his way toward the exit, where Seraphina, his horse, was tied to a beam. He mounted her in one swift motion, casting a final glance back at the establishment¡ªthe Seagull''s Nest¡ªbefore urging Seraphina to head toward the portuary corner of the coastal city of Mirriandelle. The salty sea breeze blew through his seaweed-red hair, which wasn''t long, but long enough for the wind to play with it as they rode. In less than six minutes, he reached the bustling port, where ships were either arriving from or departing to the other side of the Parting Sea or heading upriver toward the land of the elves. The smell of salt and the sound of waves filled the air as he guided Seraphina toward a quieter part of the port. There, overlooking the sea, stood a building with a welcoming courtyard, shaded by palm trees swaying in the breeze. The building itself was old yet regal, made of red brick with large windows and intricate architectural details that gave it a dignified charm. Above the entrance hung a large wooden sign, depicting a hand passing an envelope to another, with the words "L&L Postal Company" engraved on it. Dismounting, he entered the building, where the atmosphere was far more bustling than outside. The interior reminded him of an Adventurer''s Guild, with several guichets attended by beautiful receptionists. However, instead of adventurers, the clientele consisted of people from all walks of life¡ªmerchants, commoners, and even those dressed in attire suggesting they belonged to higher castes. Couriers, dressed in uniforms bearing the company¡¯s emblem, bustled around with satchels, carrying piles of letters and packages. He exchanged a glance and a nod with the main receptionist at the large central guichet, who instantly recognized him. Without a word, he made his way up to the second floor, where the VIP rooms awaited. Beside the entrance to the room that interested him, a young man sat crouched, playing with a small cat. His charming appearance and the oddly genuine, amused expression on his face made for an intriguing contrast. Tousled brown hair fell across his forehead, some strands tucked behind his ears, and his white-gloved hand gently patted the cat.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Noticing his presence, the young man slowly turned toward him. "You''re late," he said, his voice light but carrying an air of expectation. "Sorry," he replied with a soft shrug. The young man stood up, his movements graceful as he adjusted his red scarf, the long coat he wore swaying slightly. His playful gaze gave way to a calmer, more composed demeanor. "Am I the last?" he asked, his tone steady. The young man nodded. "I see," he responded, glancing at the door before him. Without another word, the young man opened the door, allowing him to enter first before following closely behind. The door creaked slightly as it opened, and the room revealed itself just as he had left it a couple of hours ago, the air thick with aged elegance. The space was adorned with intricately carved wooden paneling that framed a massive fireplace in the far corner. Dark wooden bookshelves lined the walls, brimming with tomes of every size and color, their spines glinting faintly in the ambient light. The earthy scent of old books mixed with the lingering warmth from the hearth, creating an atmosphere of wisdom and tradition. It was just as he¡¯d left it a couple of hours ago. But something was different. As he stepped into the room, he immediately felt it¡ªa skill applied to the entire space. [Spatial Lock]. The entire room had been sealed from the outside world, however there was no concern on his face, as he knew well who had cast the spell. Casting a brief glance at the young man now closing the door behind him, he refocused his attention on the scene before him. In the center of the room, six plush chairs were arranged in a loose circle, upholstered in deep burgundy velvet. The chairs¡¯ polished wooden arms and legs glowed warmly, matching the room''s deep hues. Each chair faced slightly inward, creating a sense of intimacy among the occupants. The moment the door opened, all eyes turned to him and the young man. Three of the chairs, which had been unoccupied when he left earlier to explore the city, now held familiar and unfamiliar figures. In one sat a woman with sharp, discerning eyes, her posture so perfect it seemed almost unnatural. Her long, bluish hair cascaded down her back, and her hands rested calmly on her lap. Beside her sat two men: one with a stern, chiseled face, his hands resting firmly on his knees; the other, broad-shouldered and silent, watched through golden-rimmed glasses, his deep-set eyes following his every move. In the far corner of the room, across from the entrance, stood a tall, imposing man with golden hair and lapis-colored eyes. His presence commanded the very air in the room, though it was softened by the small silver-haired girl clutching his arm, her face hidden against the sleeve of his priestly white robe. The chandelier overhead cast a beam of light directly onto them, as all the windows in the room, like the door, were tightly closed. Noticing the gazes upon him, he approached the group calmly and offered an apology. "I''m sorry for making you all wait; I didn''t mean to." The man in the priestly robes offered a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry. We know." The man was the one who had suggested he spend some time outside since he had arrived earlier than the others. It was he who recommended the Seagull¡¯s Nest, and in hindsight, if he had just gone straight there, he might have returned earlier. Instead, he had wasted too much time exploring Mirriandelle, lingering at the city''s central fountain, a place where their meetings were once usually held. "In fact, you arrived at the perfect time," the man in a priestly robe continued, motioning to an empty seat next to the young man who had opened the door. "But before you take your seat, how about you introduce yourself? One among us has yet to meet you." The woman with bluish hair seized him with quiet curiosity as the man in priestly gestured toward her. He nodded in agreement and hesitated briefly before speaking. "Alright." It felt strange to introduce himself under these circumstances, especially considering the fact that they had all once been the same person. "Ladies," he began, his voice measured, "gentlemen, I am known in this world as Licht, commonly¡ªif unfortunately¡ªmonikered as Lonely Light. I am an S-ranked adventurer." He glanced at each of them, smiling softly. "But that is how the world knows me. You, my brothers and sisters, may know me better as Dungeon Master 05." There were nods of recognition from his fellow Dungeon Masters, those he had already encountered in this incarnation, and an acknowledging glance from the one he had yet to meet. "Alright then," Lucius began again, gesturing to the young man beside him. "Since you''ve introduced yourself, allow me to reintroduce everyone." He pointed to the young man. "This is Dungeon Master 02¡ªyou already know him." Next, he indicated the man with the stern face. "Dungeon Master 01, whom you met in person thirty years ago." "And over there is Dungeon Master 11¡ªsomeone you also already know." The broad-shouldered man with glasses whom he pointed to, gave him a nod. Lucius¡¯s attention then shifted to the woman. "This is Dungeon Master 12. You two have yet to meet, but I¡¯m sure you remember what I told you about her." "I do," he replied with a nod, exchanging a brief glance with her. Patting the head of the silver-haired girl at his side, Lucius added, "This is not your first time meeting her, but still... This is Dungeon Master 14, officially known as Ramia, my adopted daughter." He smiled down at the girl, who still clung tightly to his robe. "And as for me," he continued, straightening his posture, "I am Dungeon Master 07, currently Lucius, Paladin Custodian of the Byg''m?k Faith, and I am the one who requested this impromptu summons." He¡ªnamely Licht or Dungeon Master 05 finally took his seat as Lucius motioned for him to do so. Once settled, Lucius spoke again. "I am very thankful that you all managed to respond to my call. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all asking yourselves what could be so important that I couldn¡¯t simply inform you through letters. Well, I will answer that question right away." Lucius¡¯s tone shifted, becoming more serious. "I was recently visited by Dungeon Master 13, who informed me of the death of Dungeon Master 10." The atmosphere grew tense. As Dungeon Masters, they did not concern themselves with death as native of this world did, but the news of a fallen Dungeon Master still stirred something akin to curiosity. Licht, in particular, felt a twinge of curiosity, knowing little about Dungeon Master 10. Dungeon Master 10 like Dungeon Master 13 whom he just mentioned, operated on different continents, and as such their paths never once crossed. Which is why this death piqued his curiosity more than anything else, especially considering the fact that Dungeon Master 10 had quite a reputation for possessing a powerful vessel. The first question came swiftly from one of the other Dungeon Masters. "What happened?" Lucius exhaled slowly. "Well, gentlemen, let me begin with this," he said, his voice steady, "a new Authority has been discovered." Read Arianna Book 01: Hexcaster on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited Hi everyone, Author here! I know some of you may have been hoping for a new chapter, and I¡¯m sorry to keep you waiting. But I wanted to take a moment to share some exciting news: the first installment of Arianna has officially moved to Kindle and Kindle Unlimited! If you''ve enjoyed reading my story, or if you haven''t yet but would like to, you can now support me by reading it here: Arianna Book 01: Hexcaster on Amazon Now, I¡¯d like to address something I''ve been hearing from some of you. I understand that I might have moved the story to Kindle a bit too quickly and should have let it sit on Royal Road longer. But considering what Arianna is¡ªa duology¡ªand the following I''ve built over the last four months, it felt like the right time to introduce the story to a new readership. With Book 1 already out, the series is halfway done, and I needed to expand my audience.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. That said, I understand not everyone is able to make the transition due to financial reasons. If you¡¯re unable to access the book on Kindle or KU, feel free to reach out to me¡ªI¡¯m happy to help you read it for free if needed. Lastly, I want to apologize for the delay in releasing new chapters. My initial plan was to keep the updates rolling with no pause, but things didn¡¯t go as expected after finishing Book 1. However, the wait is almost over! New chapters will either drop tomorrow or Monday. The reason I don¡¯t have a precise date is that I¡¯m currently wrapping up the first arc of Book 2, which is still in manuscript form. Since I don¡¯t have a proofreader or editor, I go through a heavy round of editing and proofreading myself. The arc will end in two or three chapters, depending on how inspired I''ll be. It might take me a night or two or three but I know for sure that it''ll be finished by monday. That¡¯s all for now¡ªthank you for your patience, and I can¡¯t wait to share more with you soon! Very soon! B2. Prologue The salt and metallic taste lingered in her mouth, bitter and raw. She flew over the thick green canopy, her broom humming beneath her as it cut through the cold mountain air. The pain was constant, a throb in the back of her mind that she couldn¡¯t afford to acknowledge, much less give in to. She could feel the blood dripping from the gash on her leg, the bruises darkening her ribs, and a wound on her shoulder that had gone numb some time ago. But she pushed forward, flying faster, hoping that speed would save her. ¡°Did I lose him?¡± she muttered under her breath, casting a glance back over her shoulder. Silence hung over the forest. For a brief moment, the world seemed still, and she allowed herself to hope. But just as her breath caught in a sigh of relief, a silhouette burst out from the canopy beneath her, racing toward her with terrifying speed. Panic tightened her chest. She wanted to flee, to push her broom to its limit, but she was already at full speed. There was no more running. With no other choice, she tried to veer away, her heart hammering in her chest¡ªbut it was too late. The only thing between her and her pursuer¡¯s sword was her broom. She gripped the handle tightly, swinging it to intercept the blade. The impact rang through her bones. Her broom held, but the sheer force of the blow sent her spiraling down toward the trees. Branches whipped past her as she crashed through the forest canopy, slamming into thick trunks, the world spinning around her as she tumbled to the ground. She hit hard, her body bouncing once before she finally skidded to a stop, coughing blood. For a moment, everything went dark. The edges of her vision blurred with red, and she could barely feel her limbs. The damage she''d just taken would¡¯ve killed any ordinary human ten times over¡ªyet somehow, she was still in one piece. But even then, her HP was miserably low, and every breath came with immense agony.. She tried to move, pain shooting through her body. ¡°Aaah!¡± she screamed, struggling to her feet. Smoke filled the air as something crashed into the ground a dozen meters away, sending debris in all directions. Through the thinning smoke, the figure of her pursuer emerged¡ªclear and menacing. With a weak gesture, she summoned her broom back to her. It flew into her hand, and she clutched it tightly, more out of habit than hope. The man took a step forward, his eyes glinting with malice. ¡°Running again? Do you think you can get away from me?¡± He stood tall, his presence commanding, the long dark hair falling over his shoulders like a veil of shadows. His sword glowed with elemental energy, the blade humming with a soft, eerie light as the air around him crackled with power. Her heart raced as she stared at the man. He looked familiar, but not enough to make sense of why he was doing this. She wanted to flee¡ªeverything in her screamed to turn and fly as far away as she could. But there was no point. He¡¯d chase her, again and again. No matter what she did, he¡¯d keep coming. ¡°What have I done to you?¡± she spat out, her voice trembling with frustration. ¡°Why are you after me? I¡¯ve done nothing to deserve this.¡± For the first time, the man hesitated. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, as though her question had amused him. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± he chuckled darkly. ¡°After I introduced myself, I thought you¡¯d understand.¡± He took another step forward, and the light of his sword intensified. ¡°I¡¯m Alexander. The current holder of the Seventh King under the One and Only Emperor. King of Thaloria to Luthen. From Thovecia to Lisian. And you¡ªprincess¡ªare the granddaughter of the previous holder of that title. Did you really think I¡¯d let you live?¡± Her heart twisted painfully in her chest at the word ¡®princess.¡¯ It was something only those dearest to her had ever called her that. Hearing it from this man, dripping with disdain, hurt more than any physical wound. She gritted her teeth, her grip on the broom tightening as she fought the surge of anger inside her. None of it made sense. Her grandmother had raised her mother in secret, hiding her away from the world her grandmother came from. And in turn, she had lived a quiet life, far removed from the struggles for the title of king. Years ago, at the urging of her parents and grandmother, she¡¯d been sent to this distant corner of the world, where she abandoned her human side and chose to live among the elves, renouncing any claim to the titles her bloodline carried. She had no desire to stand in anyone¡¯s way. And yet, here he was. After all the sacrifices her family had made, all they¡¯d given up for her to live in peace, this man wanted to tear it all apart. Anger surged through her like never before. She almost called forth her familiar but stopped, realizing she was about to throw the poor creature to a pointless death. Backtracking, she decided to face this without it. Standing tall and resolute, her knuckles turned white as she gripped the broom, her cold, determined eyes locking on Alexander. If he wanted to kill her, he might succeed¡ªbut she wouldn¡¯t make it easy for him. Not after everything that had been sacrificed for her. He smiled again, a sadistic curve to his lips. He saw her resolve, and it didn¡¯t faze him. Instead, he welcomed it.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. As the figure took his first step toward her, his attention was suddenly drawn to his left. In a blur of motion, a bird-like form darted toward him, transforming into a fully humanoid silhouette mid-flight. The assailant struck at Alexander with blurring speed, giving him just enough time to raise his arms in defense. Though he blocked the attack, he was still knocked back several dozen meters before rapidly recovering, his eyes focused on the incoming blades effortlessly hurled by the elf. With expert precision, he deflected each one, his defenses holding firm against the barrage. Finally, with a sharp breath, he turned his attention to his mysterious attacker. The assailant was an elf, with long silver hair, nearly identical to the elven girl, but it was the elongated, elegant ears that revealed the truth of his heritage. Her thoughts raced as she took in the sight of him. An Argyrian, she mumbled, the name slipping from her lips almost subconsciously. He was an Argyrian like her. But most importantly, she knew this elf. Not personally but she knew him, for he¡¯d seen him before. Alexander¡¯s expression twisted in confusion. ¡°Who the fuck are you?!¡± he barked, but the elf offered no answer. Instead, he let out a soft, disappointed tsk, his eyes narrowing with an emotion too complex to read. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, the elf began to back away, leaving Alexander even more perplexed. ¡°What the¡ª? I asked you a¡ª¡± Alexander''s voice was abruptly cut off by a deafening explosion. The force of the blast sent a powerful shockwave through the clearing, knocking her off balance. Her legs buckled as she barely managed to remain upright, her heart pounding. What was that? Her gaze darted to Alexander, who now knelt in the center of a circular crater that had formed around him. The earth looked as if it had been pressed downward by an immense weight, the ground sunken in a perfect circle. Alexander''s face was pale, his body struggling under the force of something unseen. "What just happened?" she whispered to herself. From the shape of the declivity, she deduced it was a gravity-based attack, but by whom? Her eyes instinctively shifted to the elf who stood mere feet from where the attack had ended, watching calmly. Strangely, it didn''t seem like he was the source. As Alexander fought to stand, he was suddenly yanked by an invisible force, dragged violently to the side. Trees splintered and shattered as his body was dragged through the forest, the same unseen force pulling him deeper into the woods, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Now, the room fell into an eerie silence. She found herself alone, standing face-to-face with the silver-haired elf. Realizing the gravity of the moment, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to her knees. He stood just meters away, his gaze cold and unforgiving, filled with a hatred that contrasted sharply with his earlier actions¡ªactions that had saved her. It was then and only then that she finally got to recognize the expression in his eyes¡ªanimosity, on a different level than that of Alexander. Without a word, the elf retrieved a small gourd from his side and tossed it toward her. She caught it instinctively, recognizing it instantly¡ªa healing gourd, a rare one-use item capable of instant recovery. "Heal yourself, then return to where you came from," the elf said flatly, his tone devoid of emotion. There was so much she wanted to say¡ªquestions she needed answers to, comments she wanted to make. But only one question managed to escape her lips. "What about him?" The elf''s expression hardened, though it was difficult to tell whether he was angry or merely annoyed. "He is of no concern to you anymore," he replied coldly. "Heal yourself, and return to your little home." Without giving her time to respond, he turned his back and, with the same ease as before, morphed back into a bird-like silhouette, disappearing into the sky as quickly as he had come, leaving her alone with her unanswered questions.
Healing herself with the gourd, she rose to her feet and took to the skies on her broom. She considered his words¡ªto return to her home, to leave this strange and terrifying confrontation behind. But her curiosity gnawed at her, refusing to let her rest. The distant sound of battle still echoed in the distance, a deep rumbling in the earth that persisted for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, it subsided, and she found herself debating whether to follow. I should leave, she thought. But... what if he comes back? What if he attacks me again? The weight of that uncertainty pressed on her mind like a sword dangling over her head. She couldn¡¯t live in peace without knowing how this all ended. With that resolution, she flew over the destruction left in the wake of their battle. The chaos was utter and complete¡ªuprooted trees, shattered earth, and scorched land stretched out beneath her. After a while, she reached the epicenter of the devastation¡ªa massive crater, easily over 300 meters in diameter, the kind of scar one would expect from an asteroid¡¯s impact. Hovering above the crater, she quickly noticed she wasn¡¯t alone. Circling high above the devastation on a large crow was a humanoid silhouette. Despite a silver visor hiding her eyes, the crow-riding silhouette frowned intensely at the sight of her. The figure held a strange staff, no calling that a staff was wrong it looked more like a cane. She had golden hair, dressed so elegantly it seemed out of place amidst the ruins. But what struck her most was that this woman, riding atop her crow, was human. Like a bird of prey circling its target, the blonde woman made no move to attack. Her demeanor suggested she wasn¡¯t hostile, or at least had no intention of engaging her. Deciding to leave the enigmatic figure be, she turned her attention back to the crater¡¯s center. There, she spotted three figures¡ªAlexander laying bloodied on the ground while two figures stood above him. One of the two was the elf. And the other was a human by the looks of it. Fast to notice her presence, they both glared up at her. Their combined glares made one thing clear: she wasn¡¯t welcome here. Taking a deep breath, she made a quick decision to retreat, hoping they would let her go. To her surprise, they didn¡¯t give chase, simply watching her leave. Only when she reached a safe distance did she finally exhale in relief, the tension draining from her body. As she soared away, her mind raced, trying to make sense of everything that had happened today. "Who were those people?" she murmured to herself, the question echoing in her thoughts long after the encounter had ended. B2. Chapter 01 The wetness of the forest clung to everything, and the rhythmic rustling of leaves whispered through the dense canopy overhead. But louder, more persistent than the leaves, were the beats of wings. It was as if the very air itself pulsed with each powerful stroke. Then, a fireball tore through the sky, spat at Licht. He reacted instantly. With a swift swing of his sword, Trouble, he dispelled the flames, the inferno vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He barely had a moment to breathe before a column of fire descended toward him, forcing him to sidestep. The dark, ethereal shadow of his skill, Shadowstep, allowed him to withdraw in a fraction of a breath, shifting a dozen meters away from the fiery blast. The ground where he once stood was now charred, the very earth screeching under the intensity of the flames. A screech echoed through the forest as one of the creatures, a wyvern, dived for him, jaws wide, aiming to tear him apart. Its speed was breathtaking, but Licht was faster. With precision, he adjusted his stance, sword ready to receive the beast. However, at that moment, a new sensation tugged at his mind. His Identification skill sensed something. "Skill: Mirage Level 7 detected." The winged reptilian creature adjusted its dive abruptly, targeting something else, not Licht. But despite the shift, Licht wasn¡¯t about to lose his focus. To him the target had remained the same. With quick reflexes, he activated Enhanced Range, sending a phantomatic blade streaking through the air. The glowing blade severed one of the wyvern''s wings, sending the beast plummeting to the ground below. The wyvern thrashed and hissed, struggling to rise despite its crippled state. The creature''s limbs clawed at the earth as it fought to regain balance. Yet, its strength wasn¡¯t enough to overcome the loss of its wing. It had just managed to recover when Licht, with a single, decisive motion, swung his sword once more. He aimed for the neck, the most vulnerable point of any living creature. With a clean cut, aided by his skill and class ability, he severed the wyvern''s head from its body. The head rolled across the ground, while the massive body convulsed, spasming for a moment before going still. The air reeked of scorched flesh and ash, the wyvern¡¯s final breath a silent wisp of smoke rising into the sky. But Licht had no time to savor the victory. Notifications flashed in the corner of his vision: Columns of fire erupted from the sky, engulfing the spot where he had just been standing. He dodged in the nick of time, his Evasion and Shadowstep kicking in instinctively. A voice, casual and unconcerned, reached his ears. "That was a close one," the voice said with a sigh. Licht withdrew, a subtle irritation flickering in his eyes. His comrade stood just a few meters away, a faint smile on his face. "I thought you were a goner there." Unlike Licht, who was dressed in his typical adventurer outfit¡ªdesigned for agility and speed¡ªhis comrade looked entirely out of place. His clothing was far more suitable for a ballroom or perhaps a children¡¯s tale about wandering magicians. He wore a waistcoat with intricate golden embroidery, a pristine shirt with lace at the cuffs, and a high-collared jacket that would befit a nobleman attending a grand affair. His black trousers were perfectly tailored, and polished shoes gleamed as if untouched by the dirt of the forest. The man¡¯s gloves were white, his top hat tilted at a jaunty angle as if he were about to perform a sleight of hand trick rather than fight mythical beasts. His name was Orion, and despite his appearance, he wasn¡¯t just anybody. He was a Dungeon Master, just like Licht, though he looked entirely unsuited to this chaotic battlefield. Licht stared at him, exasperated by his presence as usual. "I think I¡¯d be more at ease if you disappeared. Could you¡­ I hope you understand." Orion smiled, as if the comment was the most reasonable request in the world. "Don''t worry," he said. "I know what''s expected of me. And I know what I¡¯m good at." With a snap of his fingers, Orion vanished. In the blink of an eye, his presence was gone entirely, leaving Licht alone, surrounded by the corpses of wyverns he had already slain¡ªand those that still hovered menacingly around him. Licht sighed again, his frustration mounting. These wyverns weren¡¯t dungeon spawns, as he had first assumed. The fact that their bodies hadn¡¯t disintegrated into dust was evidence enough of that. They were real, living creatures. "We¡¯re on the right path," Orion had insisted. But Licht was starting to question that.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Taking a deep breath, Licht steeled himself. "Let¡¯s finish this quickly," he muttered, gripping his sword tighter, preparing for the next wave. *** After defeating the wyverns and continuing their journey, Licht and Orion traversed the dense forest without much more than routine obstacles¡ªmostly wyverns or the occasional forest monster. Despite the quietness of their path, Licht couldn¡¯t shake a lingering unease. Something was off. Throughout his time as an adventurer, he had learned that dungeons were known for spawning dungeon-born creatures outside the dungeon¡¯s domain, yet their route had been void of such threats. Adventurers had started calling these dungeon creatures ¡°mobs,¡± and the absence of them gnawed at Licht¡¯s instincts. He should have encountered some by now¡ªor so his intuition told him. Still, his relief at not having to deal with the dungeon spawn was undeniable. He wasn''t entirely confident that he could handle what awaited them in the dungeon they were heading toward. Days passed uneventfully until they arrived at the base of a large mountain. The forest abruptly ended against the towering cliffs, the landscape itself unsettling in its finality. Licht immediately recognized the mountain as part of the range that separated the lands of men from the underworld of demons. And there, at the foot of the mountain, loomed the entrance to the infamously known Voidborne Catacombs. ¡°So, we really didn¡¯t encounter any mobs, huh?¡± Licht muttered. ¡°Why do you sound almost... disappointed?¡± Orion raised an eyebrow, eyeing him curiously. Licht paused, considering the remark. ¡°Maybe I am.¡± He allowed himself a wry smile. ¡°The thing is, I¡¯ve heard so many horror stories about this dungeon that I was expecting more. Maybe I¡¯m just surprised we¡¯ve made it this far without a fight.¡± Orion gave a casual shrug. ¡°Didn¡¯t Dungeon Master 07 already tell you this journey would be safe? No mobs to worry about?¡± ¡°He did... but this is the place every adventurer has been warned to avoid. It¡¯s just strange being able to stand here without consequence.¡± ¡°Well, we are Dungeon Masters,¡± Orion remarked, though Licht wasn¡¯t entirely sure what point he was trying to make. He simply nodded, accepting it as they took their first steps toward the yawning entrance of the Voidborne Catacombs¡ªan ancient and deadly dungeon, easily the most dangerous in all the lands of men, if not of the world entirely. Yet, as they crossed the threshold, Licht was taken aback by what greeted them. Despite the ominous name, the domain inside was strangely inviting. The atmosphere resembled the very forest they had just left behind¡ªlush greenery, a damp chill in the air, and towering trees swaying under a canopy of mist. The only difference was an eerie feeling that this forest was not as it seemed. He glanced around. Expansive didn¡¯t even begin to describe it. There were no visible walls, no signs they were enclosed at all. Birds flitted through the mist in the distance, and the sound of distant life was distinctly audible¡ªa stark contrast to the lifeless dungeon domains he was more accustomed to. Had he not been conscious of stepping through the dungeon¡¯s entrance, Licht might have believed they were still outside. ¡°Where do we head now?¡± Licht asked, his eyes scanning the misty expanse. Orion shrugged. ¡°Frankly, at this point I¡ª¡± But before he could finish, something shifted¡ªa flicker, shorter than a breath. The entire world around them changed in an instant. The forest was gone, replaced by something else entirely. *** The once wet, humid forest was now a distant memory. The vibrant greens had vanished, replaced by the deep hues of brick, stone, and shadows. The atmosphere had shifted too¡ªwhat once held life and freshness now felt like an ancient tomb, drenched in cold stillness, echoing only with the distant drip of moisture. The duo exchanged a quick glance, both surprised yet not alarmed. If anything, they were thrilled. This was the unique nature of this dungeon¡ªa labyrinth that bent reality, capable of shifting its domains in an instant, teleporting intruders to any place it desired. And now, it had brought them to what seemed to be the guardian''s chamber. The room they found themselves in was massive and grand. Tall, imposing columns lined the walls, wrapped in heavy chains that hung from the ceiling like shackles from some bygone age. Candles flickered faintly in sconces, casting long, dancing shadows across the stone floor. At the heart of the room stood an enormous, dark monument, its triangular frame glowing faintly with an otherworldly green light, draped in thick ropes as though it had been restrained by forces beyond mortal comprehension. The air was cold, carrying the scent of dust and forgotten things. Licht and Orion now stood at the base of a grand staircase, one not of carved elegance but raw stone, each step worn and cracked from ages past. They began to climb, their boots echoing in the chamber''s silence as they ascended toward the summit. Upon reaching the top, their eyes fell upon a woman seated at the foot of the strange, glowing monolith. She wore a regal gown of deep red, embroidered with delicate patterns that shimmered in the low light. Her raven-black hair fell in smooth waves over her shoulders. In her lap lay an infant, peacefully asleep, as she gently played with the child¡¯s fine, barely-there hair. Slowly, the woman raised her gaze to meet theirs. Her eyes¡ªcompletely black irised, like an endless void¡ªcaptured their attention immediately. At the sight of the two Dungeon Masters before her, she smiled faintly. "Took you long enough," she said, her voice soft but filled with a quiet authority. Licht couldn¡¯t claim to know her personally, but as an adventurer, he knew enough. She was the queen whose stories spanned from Ironhaven to Eastbourne, a ruler who had once commanded vast territories. Despite her royal status, she had always been a wanderer, traversing the wild lands atop her giant red wyvern, far removed from the pomp and circumstance of the court. Her reputation as a conqueror, a slayer of kings and kin alike, was well-known. Yet that was only the surface. As a Dungeon Master, Licht knew her by a different name. She wasn¡¯t just a legend to adventurers, but also to the Dungeon Masters. She was the first to reincarnate in a female form and had survived from the early days of the Dungeon Masters reincarnated in Fiendfell, gaining incredible power and influence over time. Her strength was unmatched, which is why Dungeon Master 07 gave Dungeon Master 05 a mission: to find the only Dungeon Master capable of recovering the authority lost to the elves of Quel¡¯Thalas¡ªher. To the world, she was a queen, a conqueror, a force of nature. To Licht the adventurer, she was Arianna. But to him, as a fellow Dungeon Master, she was something more¡ªDungeon Master 08, the oldest and strongest reincarnated Dungeon Master. B2. Chapter 02: Dungeon Master 08, Dungeon Master 10 and Dungeon Master 00 After the shift, I heard them approaching, and sure enough, there they were. The first one I noticed had bright red hair, messy and wild, almost reflecting the vibrant energy in his green eyes. He looked about my age, or the age I look like¡ªor maybe younger¡ªbut his face carried a spark of mischief, a casual confidence in the way he walked. His outfit was practical, made for movement, with gloves that looked like they''d seen plenty of work. There was an adventurer''s flair to his whole look, like he''d been through enough trials to wear the lifestyle comfortably. He smiled wide at me, his expression almost daring me to ask what kind of trouble he''d been up to. The second man, however, couldn¡¯t have been more different. He was tall, dressed in eccentric clothes that felt completely out of place. His sharp suit was adorned with intricate embroidery and patterns, and a wide-brimmed hat with a feather topped off the ensemble. His long, dark hair and caricaturey posture made him look more like a magician than a dungeon explorer. Even the way he moved seemed delicate, careful, as if he was meant for parlors and ballrooms, not the harsh realities of the world we stood in. His eyes were calm, almost too composed, like he had all the time in the world. It struck me as odd how differently they fit into the scene. The red-haired one, Licht, at least looked like he somewhat belonged here, as if he could blend into the shifting chaos of the world¡¯s underbelly. But the other? His name, Orion, matched his extravagant outfit; he seemed plucked from some entirely different plane. I couldn¡¯t help but smile at the contrast as I sized them up. ¡°I know this one,¡± I said, pointing to Orion with a smirk before shifting my hand toward Licht. ¡°And I can easily guess who this one is. But still, mind introducing yourselves for him?¡± I jerked my thumb back toward the monolith behind me. ¡°I¡¯m sure he''s curious as to who you two are.¡± At the mention of "him," their gazes left me and locked onto the monolith. Its surface began to glow faintly, and as it did, a voice echoed¡ªnot in the air, but in our minds. It was peculiar, not a sound in the traditional sense, but a feeling of words, as if spoken in their own voices. --- Echo-32: Dungeon Master 08 is right. I won''t mind a little introduction. --- I was used to it by now, unphased by the voice''s direct approach. But the two of them? Their expressions betrayed confusion¡ªnot about who was speaking, but how they were supposed to handle a voice in their minds without any sound. The first to recover was Orion, who adjusted his stance, sweeping into a low bow that matched his eccentric outfit. ¡°I am Dungeon Master 02,¡± he began, his voice as dramatic as his clothes. I had encountered him a couple of times before. He was one of Dungeon Master 07''s inseparable prot¨¦g¨¦s, along with the latest-born Dungeon Master. The fact that he was here without Dungeon Master 07 suggested good news to me¡ªit confirmed an answer I had been heavily expecting. "The name I was given was Orion..." It seemed like he wanted to add something more but chose not to. Then the red-haired one spoke up, standing with a casualness that matched his grin. ¡°I am Dungeon Master 05, though in Fiendfell I go by Licht. Officially, I¡¯m an adventurer.¡± Despite being an adventurer myself, I had never met this particular Dungeon Master. And it wasn¡¯t for lack of opportunity over the past 150 years. It was simply that I had been issued a clear order not to initiate contact with him by Dungeon Master 07, so this was really our first meeting. As Licht spoke, the voice returned, resonating in our minds again, waking the boy I was holding in my arms. --- Echo-32: Since you''ve introduced yourselves, I believe it¡¯s only fair I do the same. But you all already know who I am. --- The voice, though emotionless, always carried the risk of sounding condescending. But I had grown used to interpreting Dungeon Master 00¡¯s will; I could almost imagine him chuckling as he said those words. The two young men, however, were left stiff, their gazes still fixed on the monolith¡ªon Echo-32, the room''s Dungeon Guardian, and the vessel through which Dungeon Master 00, one of the first, was communicating with us. Sensing their unease, I decided to break the tension. "Since everyone¡¯s introducing themselves, I might as well join in too." I adjusted the child in my arms, making sure he could now look at our guests. ¡°I am Dungeon Master 08, but out there, you can call me Arianna. I¡¯m many things, but I think you all mostly know me as an adventurer, maybe even a king, though not anymore. Lately, I¡¯ve been more known as Kingslayer, which is partly why I¡¯m here. But still, that¡¯s me.¡± At this point, I shifted the child in my arms so that he was fully presented to them. Despite waking up, he made no fuss, just stared at them with mellow, curious eyes. ¡°This little cutie here, I believe, is the reason you''re here,¡± I said, pointing at Orion. ¡°This is Dungeon Master 10, the fifth incarnation of him. I¡¯ve chosen a new name for him. From here on out, out there, you may call him Julian. Lovely name, don¡¯t you think?¡± Both Dungeon Masters looked at him with expressions I couldn¡¯t quite place¡ªconfused, maybe even lost. At first, I thought they might have forgotten that I had found a way to control the spawning of us Dungeon Masters through [Greed and Resurgence], but the fact that they didn¡¯t question it made me realize it wasn¡¯t the case. Knowing Dungeon Master 07, he would have briefed them thoroughly on this. It was just one of those things he was meticulous about. The duo nodded, and to my mild surprise, asked a question that I had expected them to voice much earlier. Dungeon Master 02, after glancing around, finally spoke on behalf of both of them. "Where is Dungeon Master 09?" "And Dungeon Master 13?" the other added quickly. Those were perfectly reasonable questions. They were led to believe that the two would be here, so it was only natural for them to wonder where they had gone. I couldn¡¯t fault them for that. "They¡¯re not here." I simply responded. "Not here?" they echoed, both frowning now. "Not anymore," I clarified. "Dungeon Master 09 went to Quel''thalas first, and Dungeon Master 13 followed him shortly after returning from the land of men, where he was sent to inform Dungeon Master 07 of what happened there." At this, I briefly lowered my gaze to the small Dungeon Master resting in my arms. Our eyes met, and I gave him a slight smile. He was quiet, but I knew, like me, he wanted to speak. To introduce himself, like we all did. But for all his titles, he was still a recently born infant. Speech was beyond his grasp. Sure, he could make noises when he wanted something, which he often did, but now? Now, he held back, why? There could only be one answer. Hehehe, trying to keep up appearances, aren¡¯t we? There¡¯s no shame in being a baby. Beside those of us directly involved, Dungeon Master 09 and I were the first to learn of the events in Quel''thalas. When Dungeon Master 10 died, he spawned here beside Dungeon Master 00, allowing me to learn of what had unfolded in the land of the elves, and how their attempt to secure an authority had failed¡ªleading to Dungeon Master 10''s death. Given the complex position I found myself in, I couldn¡¯t leave this dungeon unless absolutely necessary. So I sent Dungeon Master 09 to assess the situation there first. About a month later, Dungeon Master 13, also involved in the mess, joined me. After having him secure a new vessel for the vessel-less Dungeon Master 10, I sent him to inform Dungeon Master 07 of the situation and forwarded some ¡°suggestions¡± on how to handle the matter. Once Dungeon Master 13 returned from his mission, I had him join Dungeon Master 09 in Quel''thalas. He¡¯d be of more use there than waiting around with me. In total, it¡¯s been around four months since I managed to give Dungeon Master 10 a new vessel, and about two and a half since Dungeon Master 07 was informed of the news. Though it felt like a long time, I had to acknowledge that it was an improvement in organization compared to what it used to be. But looking at the duo in front of me, their frowns deepened, clearly disapproving of my unexpected maneuver. "A problem?" I asked with a smile. "We weren¡¯t told about this," Orion said. "Yes, we thought we were going to meet with you four. five, if you count Dungeon Master 00," the other chimed in. I could almost picture Dungeon Master 07 in my mind at that moment. These two were his prot¨¦g¨¦s, after all. Despite appearances, they were a lot like him¡ªor perhaps it was more accurate to say they learned it from him. "That was the plan," I conceded, standing up. "But adjustments had to be made for the circumstances. We will meet them both in Quel''thalas."If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Assuming, of course, that Dungeon Master 07 agreed to my proposal." I turned to them, seeking confirmation. "He did agree, didn¡¯t he?" Dungeon Master 02 responded, "He did. Dungeon Master 07 entrusted you with the duty to retrieve the newly discovered authority." Of course, he did. I knew Dungeon Master 07 well enough to know he would have wanted to handle this personally, especially after the failed first attempt. But considering his current position and everything he had to manage in the land of men, he couldn¡¯t afford to refuse my proposal to handle this myself. He likely questioned whether it was a good idea, but in the end, he had no choice but to concede. "Well then, gentlemen," I said, walking up to Dungeon Master 02 namely Orion and carefully handing him the infant Dungeon Master 10. He seemed awkward with the child in his arms, much to my amusement. Watching them, I came to a slightly sad realization. Turning to the monolith behind us, I spoke, "I¡¯m sure you would¡¯ve loved to catch up with them longer, Dungeon Master 00, but I¡¯ll have to snatch them away for now." The light vibrated softly from the monolith, filling the air around us. --- Echo-32: Do not worry about me. I understand how urgent this is. I am already thankful to have seen them at all. Besides, I have had my fill of Dungeon Master company for the past several decades. --- "You make it sound like we bored you," I replied, smirking. --- Echo-32: Trust me, not at all. But do visit when you have the time. --- "Don¡¯t worry, we will. Once I¡¯m done with everything, I¡¯ll come back here. One way or another." The voice was silent for a moment before it echoed again, softer this time. --- Echo-32: I see I look forward to that... Now then, I will teleport you three near the entrance. --- Without another word, the surroundings shifted. The eerie, lugubrious atmosphere of the mausoleum was replaced by a humid, green, moss-scented environment. Just as Dungeon Master 00 said, we had been teleported near the entrance. A few dozen steps later, we were out of the dungeon''s domain, standing once again in Fiendfell. I hadn¡¯t seen this place for nearly half a century. Taking a deep breath, I found myself in a nostalgic and surprisingly optimistic mood. Casting a glance at the two Dungeon Masters beside me, I lingered on Orion, who still awkwardly held Dungeon Master 10. "Are you sure you can make this journey alone?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice. Despite his power and skills, I couldn¡¯t help but worry. This part of the land of men was dangerous¡ªmonstrous, even. Some considered it worse than the underworld itself, which lay on the other side of the mountain chain, home to the demon race. "It¡¯s a long way from here to civilization," I added. "If that¡¯s what you¡¯re concerned about, don¡¯t be," Orion replied confidently. "It is true the journey is long, but Dungeon Master 05 and I set up staves along the way. I¡¯ll be making the journey in segments. Twelve, to be precise. Once I reach civilization, I can travel the rest of the way by more conventional means." That explanation put me at ease, at least somewhat. "I see. Then I leave Dungeon Master 10 to you," I said, reaffirming why he had been chosen for this task. Dungeon Master 10, in his current state, could not be part of our mission to recover the authority. As much as he might¡¯ve wanted revenge on what killed him, he was still too young¡ªbarely three months into his new vessel. He needed to be brought somewhere safe to grow into a fully functional being again. I lowered my gaze to him, the infant Dungeon Master. He couldn¡¯t speak, but I knew exactly what he wanted from me. Gently stroking his cheek, I murmured, "It might take some time, but I¡¯ll uphold justice for you and for ''him.'' And I will recover that authority. Leave it to me. In exchange, I want you to be a good boy. I''ve given you the name Julian¡ªthis is the second name I¡¯ve given you. Don¡¯t make me rename you a third time, okay?" I nodded as Dungeon Master 10 silently responded with a small nod of his own. "Good boy," I said, gently patting his head before stepping back. It was time to leave him in the care of Dungeon Master 02, which, in this case, meant leaving him with Dungeon Master 07. He would provide a safe place for the little one to grow, as he should. Exchanging a silent nod with Orion, I watched as he reached into the air. Instantly, a notification blinked in the corner of my vision: A small rift formed in the air, and Dungeon Master 02 casually pulled out a long, elegant wand. He raised it, pointing the tip skyward. The gem at the wand¡¯s end began to glow, casting an ethereal light. Four layered magic circles appeared, one after another, as if they were opening a rift through the very fabric of space itself. Orion looked over at us and gave a small nod. "Well," he said with a slight grin, "Good luck to you two." His words lingered for only a second before the next series of notifications appeared: Before I could process it all, he and Dungeon Master 10 disappeared, vanishing into thin air as the rift sealed itself shut. I stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where they had vanished, feeling a slight pang of envy. I wish I had unlocked spatial skills like that, I sighed inwardly. But, well, there was no point in dwelling on it. I turned toward Dungeon Master 05, my new traveling companion. "We should get going too," I declared. He nodded, but as he did, a sudden thought struck me. "Wait, do you have a skill that allows you to fly?" The red-haired Dungeon Master shook his head. "I see..." I muttered. "Considering your class, that was a stupid question." Naturally, if he couldn¡¯t fly, we¡¯d have to find another way. Conventional methods of travel were out of the question. A journey to the land of elves by horse would take months, not to mention we¡¯d have to cross the sea. Flying was our only real option, especially for me, considering I couldn''t afford to set foot in human lands¡ªnot with my status as a wanted fugitive. Kingslayer, I reminded myself bitterly. Then, another realization hit me. I turned toward Dungeon Master 05. "With everything that happened, I forgot to ask¡ªdid the fish take the bait?" "Bait?" He looked confused at first, and for a moment, I feared Dungeon Master 07 hadn''t told him about one of my plans or to be exact¡ªdemand. But then a look of understanding crossed his face, and I felt relief. "Ah, yes. Dungeon Master 07 told me that he left the land of men just a week before we came here." A smile crept across my lips. "I see, that¡¯s good news. It gives us all the more reason to hurry. We can¡¯t let our fish escape with our bait." I took a few steps forward and raised my hand to the sky. I¡¯m not sure exactly where she is, I thought, but she should be nearby. A series of magic circles materialized above my outstretched arm, each one layering over the other like a tower. A sharp crack echoed through the air as a beam of ice shot into the sky. I held it for about thirty seconds, and by the time I let go, the surrounding forest had frozen solid. Snowflakes danced down, the ground shimmering with ice as entire trees stood trapped in a crystalline frost. I turned to Dungeon Master 05, who stood there, bewildered by my display. I was about to offer an explanation when a sound from above made me pause. The sky, now tinged with a strange, pale hue from my ice magic, had shifted in color. Amidst the clouds, a silhouette appeared, growing larger as it descended. The figure swooped through the sky, diving toward us before pulling up at the last second. It flew overhead in wide circles, and then, with a roar that shook the earth, the creature began its descent. For a minute, it circled above, gradually lowering itself until, with a deafening crash, it landed. Trees bent and snapped under its weight, and the ground trembled beneath its mighty form. The beast approached¡ªa massive red-scaled wyvern, wings spread wide and horns crowning its head. I reached up, but even with my height, I could only pat halfway up its massive maw. It had grown so much in my absence. "Goddess, you¡¯ve gotten fat, Veilleuse-19," I teased, smiling up at my loyal mount. The wyvern let out a low growl, its hot breath making me wince at the scent. "Alright, alright, you¡¯ve just grown large. If you prefer that," I laughed, patting her side. She roared again, this time more like a rumbling purr, and I moved toward her wing. Veilleuse-19 obligingly lowered herself to the ground, letting me climb onto her back. I glanced at Dungeon Master 05, who hadn¡¯t moved from his spot, staring in awe at the creature. His eyes were wide, filled with child-like wonder, and it took him a moment to notice me watching him. "Sire, our ride has arrived," I called, motioning toward the wyvern¡¯s back. He blinked in surprise, then hurried over, hesitating only slightly before climbing up behind me. Once he was on, I could see the unease etched on his face. He¡¯s probably wondering how the hell he¡¯s going to stay on. Back when Veilleuse-19 was a more reasonably sized wyvern, about the length of five horses, I¡¯d used a saddle and reins to ride her. But she¡¯d quickly outgrown that. Now, I had to rely on another method. I activated a skill, and semi-ethereal chains materialized from my arm, wrapping around me and anchoring me to the wyvern¡¯s back like a wake surfer tethered to a boat. "Taking off is usually the roughest part," I warned him. "I¡¯d recommend you hold on tight." "Hold on to what?!" he asked, glancing around in a mild panic. I gave him a silent stare, and the realization dawned on him. Reluctantly, he grabbed onto me, doing his best to keep his distance. But as I urged Veilleuse-19 forward, he clung tighter, unable to maintain his composure as the wyvern began to run, crashing through trees without a care. "Well, here we go!" I called out as Veilleuse-19 roared and launched into the air. The ascent was slow but steady, despite her enormous size. Behind me, Dungeon Master 05¡¯s scream echoed through the forest below as he held on for dear life. I couldn¡¯t help but laugh, exhilarated by the feeling of flight and his reaction. As we ascended higher, the wyvern¡¯s climb steepened, and his grip tightened even more. We broke through the clouds, and I glanced back at him¡ªdrenched and trembling, but alive. I felt a slight twinge of guilt, but it vanished when I saw him using a skill to dry himself off. Instead, I steered Veilleuse-19 to the left, guiding her over the mountain chain. Ahead of us lay the path to the Underworld, the quickest¡ªand safest¡ªroute to Quel¡¯thalas, the land of the elves. B2. Chapter 03: Dungeon Master 05 Up in the skies, beyond the clouds, the turbulence that once jolted our bones was now a distant memory. Here, the air felt smooth, leagues more comfortable than any carriage ride I''d ever taken. No more jarring rattles, just the serene, steady rhythm of our flight. The temperature, though¡ªicy and biting¡ªwas far less forgiving. My breath came out in misty wisps, freezing in the atmosphere. I could feel the cold creeping into my bones, though it wasn¡¯t unbearable for me, considering my near immunity. Dungeon Master 05, on the other hand, likely owed his resilience to a high constitution as a high-level Verdenkind. The sky spread out like a vast gray ocean above us, endless and oppressive, the only sound the rhythmic flap of Veilleuse-19''s wings. The horizon stretched into eternity, and to my right, two of the Underworld¡¯s many moons hung high above. One, a crimson orb, pulsed like the beating heart of some celestial beast, while another, much larger¡ªeither because it was closer or simply massive¡ªhad a sickly greenish hue, resembling a decaying gemstone in the sky. To my left, the skies of the Land of Men lay distant, untouched by the eerie glow of the Underworld''s moons. We were flying right along the border between these two realms, an invisible line between life and something far more dangerous. We¡¯d been traveling for over a couple of hours, and things were growing monotonous. Up here, there was little to entertain the mind. Unlike when traveling by carriage or on horseback, the endless gray sky above and the misty white clouds below offered no real distraction. It was soporific, almost dreamlike, the only sound the constant beat of Veilleuse-19''s wings. The silence hung heavy in the air. I thought, for a brief moment, about flying lower, to give my guest¡ªDungeon Master 05¡ªa better view of the Underworld below, something that would undoubtedly interest him. The demonic continent was nothing short of a marvel to behold, but I wasn¡¯t in the mood to deal with what lay beneath. Out of the five continents, the Underworld was by far the most dangerous, not just because of the beasts but because of its "sentient" inhabitants¡ªthe demons, who were, let¡¯s say, less than hospitable. After wandering here for a decade, I knew better than to tempt fate. Sure, at my level, there was very little that could stand in my way, but precisely because of that, I didn¡¯t want to draw the attention of certain entities. There¡¯s an old demonic saying: ¡°The Underworld remembers every slight, and a demon never forgets a debt.¡± I¡¯d earned the ire of a few Archdukes of Hell in my time¡ªpowerful demons, something akin to the Seraphim of Men¡ªand flying deeper into the Underworld would undoubtedly remind them of old grudges. Best to leave sleeping devils where they lay. I glanced at Dungeon Master 05, who seemed equally dulled by the monotony of the flight. To break the silence, I offered, ¡°It¡¯s kind of quiet, don¡¯t you think? How about we talk to pass the time?¡± He glanced at me, cross-legged on Veilleuse-19, and after a brief pause, nodded. ¡°Sure,¡± he replied simply. ¡°So¡­what do we talk about?¡± I asked, though I quickly realized he expected me to come up with a topic since I was the one suggesting the conversation. I caught sight of the sword on his lap and asked, ¡°You¡¯re a knight, if I remember right?¡± He nodded. ¡°You don¡¯t look the part,¡± I teased. He gave a faint smile. ¡°I get that a lot.¡± Knight as a class wasn''t immediately apparent with him. Typically, knights were core classes that scaled heavily with strength, then agility and constitution. They excelled at wearing heavy armor and wielding bulky weapons¡ªneither of which he had on him. His sword and his overall style looked more suited for a warrior, a class that prioritized agility. ¡°Any subclasses or specializations?¡± He shook his head. ¡°I had the option of Spellblade Knight and Rune Knight when I hit level 16, but I chose neither.¡± ¡°I see¡­ understandable. What level are you now?¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. He hesitated, but then said, ¡°I¡¯m level 42.¡± "Oh," understanding where the hesitation came from I gave no reaction, but instead asked, "at what level is your longetivity skill?" "Four," he casually answered. I raised an eyebrow, then said guenuinely, "Impressive." He gave a self-deprecating smile. ¡°It¡¯s an honor to hear that from the infamous Arianna, but if you want to praise someone as being impressive, you¡¯ve got the wrong person.¡± ¡°Oh? And who should I be praising instead?¡± ¡°Dungeon Master 04.¡± I winced, remembering the tragedy of Dungeon Master 04. If anyone could be called gifted, it was him. ¡°True¡­ but in a way, longevity feels more like a curse for him.¡± Longevity. That skill was more than just extending one''s lifespan¡ªit warped time itself, particularly in its early levels. While it granted eternal youth, it also altered how one experienced time, making it a strange gift, or curse, depending on the person and its particular circumstance. Upon unlocking the longevity skill at level 1, all it offers is immunity to senescence¡ªpreventing the natural deterioration associated with aging. However, it doesn''t stop aging itself; one still grows older, but without the frailty or visible signs of age. At level 2, things become more significant, albeit with complications. First, there¡¯s an increase in lifespan, granting an additional 50 to 75 years, but the second effect is far more drastic: the wielder¡¯s age becomes locked at the moment they unlock level 2. This creates a potentially problematic situation if one gains it too early in life. Take Dungeon Master 04 as an example. He managed to unlock level 2 of the skill at an absurdly young age, locking himself in the body of a child. While this wouldn¡¯t have been entirely bad¡ªafter all, immortality is a powerful asset¡ªhis situation became more complicated due to his youthful form. The Seraphim of Peace was the first to notice his ability, seizing him for her own purposes, essentially keeping him under her control. On one hand, this saved him from being noticed by the Emperor or his Kings, who would eliminate anyone showing potential to surpass them. On the other, it effectively stunted his growth as a Highbreed, confining him to a limited path due to the Seraphim¡¯s hold on him. Dungeon Master 05, on the other hand, faced a different kind of dilemma. Not being a Highbreed, he wasn¡¯t someone the Seraphim could easily take under their wing. Instead, he found himself at the mercy of the Emperor and his Kings, a target simply because of his potential to grow stronger than them. The only thing keeping them at bay was his association with the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. But even that wouldn¡¯t protect him forever. The situation he was in was so dire, Dungeon Master 07 had to step in, advising Dungeon Master 05 to restrict his level and power to stay under the radar. That¡¯s why when the events in Quel''thalas unfolded, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to get Dungeon Master 05 out of the precarious situation he found himself in. It was I who specifically requested his presence, even though I could have easily done without him. Come to think of it, it wasn¡¯t even a demand; it was a favor. I¡¯ll be sure to remind Dungeon Master 07 that he owes me one next time I see him. "A curse, huh? Everyone wants it," I heard Dungeon Master 05 comment, before adding, "and when you finally get it, you see it as a curse. Ironic. Truly." "That¡¯s just how things are," I replied before adding with a wry smile, "I tried to change things, you know, fifty years ago." He frowned at me in a way that reminded me of another Dungeon Master. "Are you referring to the time you attacked two kings, massacred one of them, insulted the Emperor, and disappeared off the grid entirely?" I shrugged dramatically. "There was an attempt, unfruitful, unfortunately." The truth was more complicated than that. After taking down one of the Emperor''s Seven Kings¡ªthe second one I had killed after the one I defeated to take the throne in Graysteel¡ªI planned to use myself as bait. I wanted to lure the Emperor to the Voidborne Catacomb, where I knew Dungeon Master 00 could easily defeat him. But despite my best efforts, he didn''t fall for it. Whether it was because he was smart or just scared, I couldn''t tell. "Well, at least it wasn¡¯t for nothing," I mused, thinking back on the chaos I left in my wake. Even though the Emperor didn''t fall for the trap, after my failed attempt, two kingly seats were left empty. Knowing Dungeon Master 07, I figured he wouldn''t waste a chance like that. Somewhere in my mind, I thought he would have Dungeon Master 05 take over, but it seemed he chose someone else for the role. I looked at Dungeon Master 05, who was staring at me with wide eyes. He mumbled something under his breath. "Dungeon Master 07 was absolutely right about what he told me about you." "Oh?" I raised a brow, amused. "What did he say? Good things, I hope. He better not have tarnished my image to the younger generation." "He told me... he told me to watch out for you because you¡¯re resentful, violent, and worse, unpredictable." I was momentarily speechless at such accusations, which, let¡¯s be honest, were unfair. Mostly. "He said that about me?" "Yes, he did." He nodded seriously before adding, "But he also said that if there¡¯s one Dungeon Master he can trust to carry out a mission to the best of her ability, it¡¯s you, Dungeon Master 08." I couldn¡¯t help but smile at that last part. "Well, at least there¡¯s that." B2. Chapter 04: Dungeon Master 06 After three days of flying over the inner border of the underworld to the land of men, we finally reached the ocean that separated the underworld from Quel''thalas. The sky had been merciful up to that point, but the real challenge lay in crossing the seemingly endless blue waters. Unlike the common route that most took to reach Quel''thalas, which involved sailing the Parting Sea, this was far more dangerous. The weather could shift without warning, giving rise to tempestuous storms, and the sea below was filled with abominations that prowled the depths, eager for anything that dared come too close. We weren''t in the mood for those dangers, and like in the underworld, we stayed well above the clouds, keeping the ocean at a safe distance. After two more days over the expanse of blue, our destination began to draw near. We finally caught sight of the southern corners of Quel''thalas, the fabled land of the elves. Yet, as expected, we weren''t greeted by any signs of civilization. Far from it. What lay before us was a tropical jungle, as endless as the ocean we had just crossed. The thick canopy below stretched far and wide, the trees towering like ancient giants. I had Veilleuse-19, my trusted wyvern, keep our course further south. We had a clear destination in mind, and from memory, I knew it was only about half a week away, back then. With Veilleuse''s current speed it would only take us one days. It had been almost a day since we reached Fiendfell, and though we were closing in on our destination, the jungle below was vast, and there was little else to see besides the sprawling trees. Now that we had left behind the dangers of the underworld and the ocean separating the elven and demon continents, I had Veilleuse-19 descend, lowering us beneath the clouds. Finally, we could take in the scenery instead of the monotonous skies. Unfortunately, the view wasn¡¯t much more exciting. The trees were enormous, easily reaching lengths of fifty meters or more. Their trunks were wide, some so thick that entire villages could likely have fit within their bases. A dense fog clung to the forest floor, giving the jungle an eerie, almost otherworldly atmosphere. Every beat of Veilleuse-19''s massive wings caused the fog to swirl and part, granting us a circular view of the land below. But aside from the impressive scale of the trees and the haunting fog, there wasn¡¯t much to take in. I wasn¡¯t surprised by the scenery. I had prepared for this kind of environment, knowing well what to expect from this corner of the continent, having lived on these corner for a time. Dungeon Master 05, on the other hand, didn¡¯t seem as ready for it. He looked disappointed, or at the very least, bored. He yawned more times than I could count, and eventually, I found myself joining him in the yawning. To stop the cycle, I decided to strike up a conversation. Over the past few days of traveling together, I¡¯d gotten to know Dungeon Master 05 better. Licht as he is commonly know was an odd character. Well, perhaps "odd" wasn¡¯t the fairest word to describe him¡ªmore like "atypical" compared to the dungeon masters I was used to. If I were to place him on a spectrum, his personality would fall somewhere between Dungeon Master 07 and Dungeon Master 02. He had the seriousness of 07, that much was clear, and like all dungeon masters, he seemed eager to contribute to our mission. However, I could tell that, for him, the one whose approval really mattered was Dungeon Master 07. Licht brought him up constantly, which wasn¡¯t surprising. Licht, like Dungeon Masters 01, Dungeon Masters 04, Dungeon Masters 11, Dungeon Masters 12, and Dungeon Masters 14, had been spawned into Fiendfell the old way¡ªreborn into random families to grow up and eventually make contact with other dungeon masters. For them, Dungeon Master 07 was like a beacon, a leader they all looked to for guidance. I, too, once saw him that way. In fact, I might still do. It made sense that Licht would idolize him to some degree. Aside from that, Licht was very mindful of his image. Not in an overt way, but it was clear that he had gotten deep into his persona as an adventurer, just like Dungeon Master 07 had when he was known as Vittorio. The amusing thing was that, despite his serious nature, Licht wasn¡¯t nearly as paranoid as Dungeon Masters 07, though I could tell he was trying to be. It wasn¡¯t natural for him, and I found that amusing. It was obvious that Licht was trying to be guarded around me, likely due to something Dungeon Master 07 had told him. But he wasn¡¯t very good at it. His apprehension felt forced, much like how Dungeon Master 02 had acted when I first met him. Back then, I had wrongly assumed that 02¡¯s awkwardness was because I was a girl, but I soon realized that wasn¡¯t the case. I had confronted him about it, and though it was a bit of a misstep, at least things weren¡¯t awkward between us anymore. The last thing I wanted was to accidentally traumatize a fellow dungeon master. Licht, on the other hand, didn¡¯t seem to need that kind of intervention. Despite his guarded behavior, it wasn¡¯t as severe as 02¡¯s. In our many conversations, I had tried to bring up a certain topic, but his apprehension always caught my attention. It became clear that talking to him wouldn¡¯t be enough¡ªI would have to show him what I meant. To have confront that thing, corner him with it seemed to me like the only way to do it. So I decided to not to mention that topic yet. "So, since we''re no longer in the land of men, with no more Kings or Empeoror around to slow down your leveling, have you thought of a secondary class already, seeing as you''re level 42?" I asked, letting the conversation shift naturally to something I had been curious about. Licht paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "A secondary class..." he mused. I watched him, knowing what a pivotal moment that question represented for anyone at his level. In this world, especially for Verdenkind and to some extent for Highbreeds, there are crucial milestones for increasing one''s strength. For them, reaching level 42 meant they had already passed two of several major class milestones. At level one, everyone picks a core class, something foundational. Then, somewhere between levels twelve and eighteen, depending on their class, comes the choice of a subclass or specialization. Those two decisions are permanent¡ªetched in stone until one reaches the level 25 milestone. That milestone was... a gamble. It offered the option to change classes and even reallocate all attribute points to better suit the new class. But that second chance came with an often crippling drawback: all skills and abilities tied to the previous class were lost. For someone whose class change shared no traits with the old one like mage to barbarian, it was like starting from scratch. Sure, your attributes remained, even grew stronger with reallocation, but starting fresh without any of the skills or abilities you¡¯d spent years mastering? For most, it wasn''t worth it. For me, it certainly hadn¡¯t been. I saw no point in resetting my life for a class that I wasn''t sure would actually fit me. That milestone was worthless to those who didn¡¯t regret their choices. Anyway, that was the third major milestone. Once you reach level 50, you hit the dual-class milestone. As the name suggests, it''s when you can pick a second class on top of your first. Though it¡¯s also optional since if you don¡¯t choose, you keep leveling normally, and you move from level 50 to 51 instead of becoming "50 and 1" like those who dual-class. It was important to mention that distinction because it affected everything¡ªfrom the way someone leveled, to the experience requirements. Dungeon Master 05 was at level 42 now, which meant he was oddly close and yet pragmatically still far from that decision. But for him, who had spent literal decades trapped at level 42 thanks to the Emperor and his damn kings, I was sure he had spent a lot of time thinking about it. Daydreaming, even, as I had, back when I was at his level. "Frankly," he said after a long pause, "I¡¯ve been hesitating between going mage or sorcerer." I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" "I already have a few light and wind-based attacks," he explained. "I was hoping that if I become a mage, I could specialize in wind or light magic. Or, if I go the sorcerer route, I could become a Luxomancer or Aeromancer. What do you think?" I shrugged slightly. "You''re asking me, but I can¡¯t really give you a prognosis here. What I can say is that knight and mage¡ªor sorcerer¡ªmakes for a well-balanced build. It¡¯s smart. The MP-centric class would complement your SP-centered one. It¡¯d give you solid offensive capabilities, both in close-quarters and long-range." Licht nodded slowly, clearly considering the idea. "I thought so too." I smiled, feeling a bit more connected with him in that moment. "I would''ve gone the same way." He looked at me skeptically, a frown creasing his brow. "Really? You had the chance to, yet you didn¡¯t." I smirked, amusement tugging at the corners of my mouth. "So you''ve heard about that, huh? From where?" "From Dungeon Master 07 first, and then from your battle against the Emperor¡¯s third king." ¡°Oh..." I wasn¡¯t particularly surprised. Licht had probably heard many stories about me, both true and twisted. "Unless..." he added, his voice trailing as if inviting me to correct him. "Unless it¡¯s not true that you chose mage as your secondary class. Your first one being Hexcaster." "Oh, that''s right. I did choose mage as my second class," I admitted, a nostalgic glint in my eyes. "I was very anxious about that choice, but in the end, that¡¯s what I went with at level 50." It might not have seemed like the smartest decision on paper¡ªafter all, I could¡¯ve chosen a martial class like knight or paladin to offset the inherent weaknesses of being a Hexcaster. I could¡¯ve even chosen monk, which would¡¯ve helped me overcome the low defense value my class came with. But there was a method to my madness. You see, right off the bat, mage and Hexcaster shared similar attribute distributions. By choosing a class like sorcerer or mage on top of my original, the synergy between the two made me stronger, faster. The benefits were immediate.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. It wasn¡¯t such a stupid choice after all, especially since I already had the prerequisites to be a powerful mage. I was confident the choice would pay off¡ªand it did. The variety of my acquired skills and abilities skyrocketed after that. I was about to share to him one of the more interesting, if not outright game-breaking perks of my build¡ªa fun little gimmick I¡¯d discovered¡ªbut something in the corner of my vision caught my attention. A flicker in the distance. Upon recognizing the familiar surroundings and sensing a distinct pulse of magic, I glanced at Dungeon Master 05 with a wry smile. "My young friend," I announced, sarcasm evident in my tone, though it flew right over his head, "behold¡ªelven civilization." He peered ahead, his frown deepening as he scanned the endless canopy. After a moment, he looked at me, clearly unimpressed, with an expression that begged, where? I didn¡¯t bother answering right away. Instead, I had Veilleuse-19 slow her flight, lowering us to just two dozen meters above the treetops. There was no sign of civilization to his untrained eyes, but I hadn''t lied¡ªit was there, just incredibly easy to miss. After a minute of silent flight, we passed directly above it. And this time, it was impossible to ignore. The elven village sprawled below like an intricate web, seamlessly woven into the towering trees. Giant trunks, thick as castle towers, rose from the forest floor, each crowned with clusters of huts. The homes were perched on wooden platforms encircling the massive trunks, connected by rope bridges that swayed gently in the breeze. The roofs, made from dried leaves and thatch, blended into the lush canopy above. Even from our height, I could see the elves moving gracefully between the homes, tending to their daily tasks along the elevated paths. It was a breathtaking scene of harmony¡ªuntil our shadow fell across them. The moment they spotted us atop Veilleuse-19, chaos erupted. It was like tossing a stone into still water. Shouts rang out, high-pitched and frantic, as the elves scrambled in every direction. Mothers clutched their children, rushing toward their homes. Others grabbed whatever weapons were nearby, barking orders as they scrambled across swaying rope bridges. The serene village became a frenzied mess, resembling a disturbed anthill. Elves darted about in sheer panic, clearly mistaking Veilleuse-19 for a wild, untamable beast about to descend upon them. Dungeon Master 05 turned to me, his expression screaming accusation, as if I was solely to blame for the chaos. Excuse me, this isn''t my fault, I thought, though a small part of me knew better. It wasn¡¯t intentional, but I hadn¡¯t expected this level of panic either. Sighing, I nudged Veilleuse-19 into an ascent, pulling us away from the village to put some distance between us and the commotion below. As we rose, I spotted a couple of figures emerging from the canopy, humanoid silhouettes floating upward, evidently coming to meet us in the sky. ¡°To think that this small village has elves with flying capabilities now," I mused aloud. "That¡¯s quite the change from last time." Back then, when I used to fly by, there hadn¡¯t been anyone rising to meet me in the sky like this. Of course, there also hadn¡¯t been a village-wide panic like today. The elves had been familiar with my presence back then¡ªVeilleuse-19 and I were part of the landscape. Leaving the flying elves behind, we headed further north, toward our true destination. Just as the village faded behind us, I saw something unusual ahead¡ªanother silhouette rising fast from the canopy. The figure was on a broom, ascending rapidly, and my [Identification] skill picked up several active abilities. My frown deepened. Looks like someone¡¯s ready for battle. I braced myself for a confrontation, prepared to respond in kind. But as we closed the distance and I caught sight of the figure¡¯s face, I hesitated, surprised by the familiarity. Adjusting Veilleuse-19¡¯s course, I opted to fly past the broom-riding elf, sparing a sidelong glance at the figure who, noticing us, promptly disengaged her combat skills and abilities. As we passed, I gave her a smile¡ªmore of a smirk really¡ªbefore continuing northward. Dungeon Master 05 remained silent beside me, though I could feel his tension. I glanced over, noticing him eyeing the elf warily. He didn¡¯t recognize her. Not surprising¡ªthey¡¯d never met. "First time seeing an elf?" I asked, breaking the silence. "First time? No," he replied, deadpan. "I¡¯ve met a Charlie before." I chuckled at the casual way he dropped the slur. The way he said it made it clear he had no idea it was offensive. "Just a word of advice," I said with a smirk, "avoid using Charlie on this continent. You can do it in front of us---no you know what nevermind. Just don''t." "Why?" he asked, genuinely curious. "Let¡¯s just say there¡¯s a category of elves that don¡¯t particularly appreciate being called that. And, funnily enough, the one we¡¯re about to meet is one of them. But not for the same reason as the other elves." He took a moment to digest that, then nodded slowly. We flew in silence for a while, the only sound the rhythmic beat of Veilleuse-19¡¯s wings. After what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence again. "Can you tell me more about the other Dungeon Masters we¡¯re to meet here?" I winced at the question, thinking about a certain topic I''d been avoiding. "What did Dungeon Master 07 tell you?" "He told me that five of us would be involved in this mission," he said, unaware of the shift in plans. Internally, I winced. Great. I had the lovely task of correcting that misconception. Outwardly, I kept my expression neutral and nodded for him to continue. "I was supposed to rendezvous with you, Dungeon Master 09, and Dungeon Master 13 at the Voidborne Catacombs. From there, the four of us would journey to Quel¡¯Thalas to meet the final Dungeon Master." "That was the plan," I admitted with a shrug, "but things have changed. And frankly, there¡¯s no way we could have made that journey with Dungeon Master 08." He took that in stride and, after a moment, asked, "So, what do can you tell me about them? What kind of Dungeon Masters should I expect?" I couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the question. "Wouldn¡¯t it be more fun to find out for yourself? That¡¯s usually the best part of meeting other Dungeon Masters." Before he could respond, the landscape below us shifted. The seemingly endless forest began to give way, revealing something sharp and angular amidst the wild. At first, it was just a sliver of stone peeking through the trees, but as we drew closer, the full structure came into view. An estate stood in stark contrast to the elven village we had left behind. Where the village had blended with the forest, this manor imposed itself on the landscape. Towering stone walls, draped in ivy, loomed ahead. The sharp rooflines and grand arched windows clashed with the wild canopy surrounding it, as if the estate sought to dominate the forest rather than coexist. "We¡¯ve arrived," I muttered to Dungeon Master 05, as Veilleuse-19 let out a low growl, recognizing the place. Flying in circles, Veilleuse-19 slowly descended, its powerful wings flaring wide as we neared the ground. Below us, a carefully manicured garden sprawled out like a patchwork quilt of deep greens and vibrant flowerbeds. From up here, it seemed so small, almost comical compared to the wild forest just beyond the estate¡¯s borders. The pristine lawn stretched in neat patterns, contrasting sharply with the untamed wilderness that surrounded it. As we descended, the gusts from Veilleuse-19¡¯s wings sent ripples through the well-kept lawns, flattening hedges and flowerbeds in every direction. The sound of snapping branches and crushed blooms echoed in the air as we touched down with a resounding thud, its claws sinking deep into the soft earth, leaving gouges in the once-immaculate ground. Taking a moment to survey the now-ruined garden¡ªpetals scattered, grass uprooted¡ªI dismounted, my boots sinking slightly into the freshly disturbed soil. The scent of cut grass and blooming flowers filled the air, a fragrance that seemed out of place given the destruction Veilleuse-19 had just wrought. "Quite the contrast, isn¡¯t it?" I remarked, glancing over at Dungeon Master 05 as we walked toward the manor that loomed ahead. "From elven grace to... well, human grandeur." Veilleuse-19 rumbled lowly behind us, its golden eyes scanning the estate as if in agreement. The wyvern seemed just as out of place as I felt. The stately stone manor stood tall and imposing against the twilight sky, its sharp angles and fortress-like appearance clashing with the wild beauty of the forest surrounding it. From the grand entrance of the manor, a figure emerged with a deliberate, measured pace. As he came into clearer view, his silver hair, slightly tousled, flowed back naturally, accentuating his sharp, defined features. A neatly trimmed beard framed his face, adding a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise noble appearance. His elongated, tapered ears confirmed his elven heritage, and his intense gaze carried the wisdom of someone seasoned by countless adventures. He wore a long, dark blue coat with a high collar trimmed in white, its metallic buttons catching the fading light as they gleamed in perfect rows down his chest. The dark blue trousers tucked into worn, sturdy brown boots hinted at practicality beneath the elegance¡ªboots that had clearly traveled many miles, yet retained an air of sophistication. "You¡¯ve ruined my garden," he said, his voice deep, filled with barely concealed irritation. I glanced back at the trampled flowers, the torn earth and gouges left behind by Veilleuse-19¡¯s claws, then looked back at him, utterly unapologetic. "Maybe," I said, crossing my arms, "but whose brilliant idea was it to make my landing ground a damn garden?" His silver eyes narrowed, his expression momentarily hardening into what might have passed for genuine fury. His jaw clenched, nostrils flared¡ªand for a brief moment, He guenuily looked like he might actually snap. But then his lips twisted into a bitter chuckle. And then he moved. Fast. Too fast for even Dungeon Master 05 to react. In a blur, he closed the distance between us, his arms wrapping around me in a tight, almost desperate embrace. The hug lingered a bit too long, the intent behind it far removed from the cold greeting of an old acquaintance. When he spoke again, his voice was low, a whisper that only I could hear, thick with pain. "I¡¯m sorry, Ma''am." "I know." "That bastard¡­ He got Charlie." I sligtly stiffened at the stiffened at the nickname. "I know," I replied softly, my voice barely more than a breath. His grip tightened, and he leaned in closer, his next words even heavier, barely held together by a voice cracking with grief. "He got Frank too." I closed my eyes, feeling the tremble in his arms. The confident, authoritative elf from a moment ago was gone, replaced by someone drowning in guilt and loss. His voice, once commanding, was now fragile, broken by the weight of what he had to admit. "I know," I repeated, my tone gentler than before. He pulled back slightly, enough for me to see the raw emotion in his silver eyes. Tears brimmed at the edges, threatening to spill over as he searched my face, as if looking for some kind of absolution. "I¡¯m sorry, for what happened. For Charlie, Frank, the authority," he whispered, his voice full of regret. "I messed up." I shook my head slightly, steeling myself. "I¡¯m not here for apologies." My voice hardened as I met his gaze. "I¡¯m here to retrieve our beloved goddess¡¯s authority and bring justice for Dungeon Master 10¡ªJulian. I promised him I would. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here." Hearing this, he finally released me, stepping back, his demeanor filling with a renewed sense of purpose. His hands clenched at his sides, his posture straightening as determination replaced the sorrow in his eyes. "In that case," Dungeon Master 06 said, his deep voice returning, though the emotion still stubbornly lingered. "Welcome back, ma¡¯am." I gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, my tone lightening as I grinned. "Worry no more my little Goblin. Mommy¡¯s back." B2. Chapter 05: Goblin After burying Damian, the second-to-last incarnation of Dungeon Master 09, I made a decision: To take a vacation. I needed time away from my kingly duties¡ªduties I had never really wanted. Becoming one of the Emperor¡¯s lackeys was never something I sought. It was something Dungeon Master 07 needed of me to reestablish his name for his his latest incarnation. So, I did it. The timing couldn¡¯t have been more perfect, since Dungeon Master 07 and the others who reincarnated alongside him no longer needed my support. I left it all behind for a while. I had promised Dungeon Master 09 to meet again, to travel as we did in his previous incarnation. I headed to the Voidborne Catacombs, where his soul had returned. The initial plan was simple: wait for him to reincarnate and then find him again, so we could journey together. But when I arrived, something shifted within me. Perhaps ¡°shift¡± isn¡¯t the right word¡ªit was more like I altered my mindset slightly. I decided to act on something I had once made a mental note of: to understand the Greed and Resurgence authority. This authority had allowed us to reincarnate into Fiendfell, into random vessels, but we understood it too little. Why was I, after reincarnating as a girl, stuck in that form for every subsequent reincarnation? And why did Dungeon Master 09 and I retain the imprint of our very first abilities, even though we no longer possessed them? For me, the ability to never forget anything. For him, the instinctual recognition of skills being used. There were too many unanswered questions. In the Voidborne Catacombs, with the help of Dungeon Master 09, Dungeon Master 00, and the others who were present, we began to experiment. We pushed the limits of what we knew, using everything at our disposal¡ªincluding the other authorities that naturally belonged to Dungeon Master 00. I hoped that by leveraging those, I could better grasp the mechanics behind Greed and Resurgence. Through trial and error¡ªbitter errors¡ªI eventually made a breakthrough. I figured out how to prevent us from being reborn randomly into the world, how to stop us from reincarnating solely as humans. I discovered that as long as a vessel was within range of the authority¡ªextending throughout Dungeon Master 00¡¯s domain¡ªwe could reincarnate into that vessel, provided it was a desired one. And the requirements for these vessels weren¡¯t any different from those in the outside world: babies. Freshly born or even unborn babies were acknowledged by the authority as fit vessels. Now, one might think that meant only human infants, since that¡¯s what we¡¯d consistently reincarnated into. But no. The discovery was clear: the authority didn¡¯t discriminate by race. I was able to provide vessels for three of my fellow Dungeon Masters to be reborn as something other than humans. One of them, Dungeon Master 06, now inhabited the body of a silver-haired, silver-eyed elf. "Worry no more, Dungeon Master 06," I said, patting his broad shoulder. He was nothing like the goblin-like child I remembered. "Mommy¡¯s back." He smiled¡ªa familiar smile, even though his face was entirely different from the last time I saw him. "That¡¯s reassuring, Ma''am." His gaze lowered briefly before returning to my face, shifting left and right, frowning as he noticed something that Dungeon Master 05 had been oblivious to our entire journey. "What is it?" I asked, expecting him to point it out. "Still holding onto that eldritch program?" I chuckled. "I have no reason to anymore, and I should be distancing myself from them, but I suppose I''ve just gotten too used to their company." He shook his head in mock defeat. "You''re the only one who could say something like that, Ma''am. To be fair, you''re the only one who can use creatures like them the way you do. I was barely able to handle their parasitism for more than a week." With those words, his gaze shifted to the confused Dungeon Master 05, who had been standing beside me, completely ignored until now. "You must be Dungeon Master 05," he said. Without waiting for an answer, he stepped forward and embraced him, much like he had done to me moments before. This time, the hug was faster, rougher. "Welcome to elven land, brother." "Thank you," Dungeon Master 05 muttered as Dungeon Master 06 released him. "It must be a relief to no longer have a wannabe god breathing down your neck, huh?" "Mh. I suppose, yeah." "Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re safe here." Dungeon Master 06 took a step back, looking Dungeon Master 05 up and down, inspecting him thoroughly. "You¡¯re looking awfully young. You don¡¯t even look like you can legally drink." "You¡¯re one to talk," I cut in, crossing my arms. "What¡¯s with that appearance?"This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. He smiled knowingly. "Ma''am, I was wondering how long it would take you to comment on it. To answer your question, after everything that happened, I decided it was time for a change." So that''s why you changed your appearance. It doesn''t quite match your personality, but once again I kept that thought to myself. Satisfied with his own greetings, Dungeon Master 06 turned toward Veilleuse-19. "And if it isn¡¯t my favorite red wyvern over here," he said, stepping toward her. Veilleuse-19 let out a deep, rumbling growl that almost sounded like laughter. "It indeed is," he said, patting her massive head. Despite looking like she could swallow him whole, the wyvern behaved like a gentle horse, accepting his affection. "Girl, you¡¯ve grown so much. I didn¡¯t expect you to be this large already." Veilleuse-19 let out a sharp, disapproving sound. "Of course, I don¡¯t mean that in a bad way," Dungeon Master 06 hurried to explain. "A good wyvern is a strong and big wyvern. You¡¯re both." Then, he paused mid-sentence, turning back to me. "You still haven¡¯t found a better name for her, have you?" "Nope. Still Veilleuse-19." He shook his head in defeat. "Poor thing. I would¡¯ve given you a much better name if I were your master." Patting the wyvern one last time, he pointed northward. "Half an hour from here, there¡¯s a mountain. I once spotted a herd of Earthshaker Taurons there. How about you go have a little snack." The red wyvern, as if understanding Dungeon Master 06 perfectly, glanced at me. I nodded, and as I did, she took off into the sky while Dungeon Master 06 headed back toward us. ¡°Well then,¡± Dungeon Master 06 said with a grin, ¡°welcome to our humble abode." He gestured toward the large mansion nestled deep within the woods. *** As we were invited into the mansion, which was technically mine to begin with, I couldn''t help but think back to when I raised the five Dungeon Masters who now occupied non-human vessels. It was I who laid the foundation of this place, but to compare what it had been then to now? Well, it was like comparing a cabin to a manor. You couldn¡¯t blame me for the rudimentary state it was in back then¡ªI was no builder. I made do with what I had and what I knew. Thankfully, as the other Dungeon Masters grew, they improved upon the place, turning it into what it is now. I walked through the halls and noticed that much of it still looked exactly as I¡¯d left it decades ago. Sure, there were additional furnishings here and there, but some pieces remained the same: the sofa on the back veranda, the tall chest of drawers in the corridor leading to the ground-floor bathroom, and even the dining table where Dungeon Master 05 and I now sat. It was the very same table I¡¯d often eaten at. "Here you both go," Dungeon Master 06, our ''host'', said as he set the plates in front of us. A kind gesture, no doubt, but the sight of what was on that plate made me glance at Dungeon Master 05, who wore the same expression I had. ¡°Goblin?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes, Ma''am,¡± Dungeon Master 06 replied with an innocent smile, as if the sight of a green, mushy pile of food wasn¡¯t slowly churning my stomach. I immediately felt a little guilty about making my earlier demands. "It¡¯s quite the appetizing meal you¡¯ve cooked for us. I appreciate it," I said, forcing a small smile. "And by that, I speak on Dungeon Master 05¡¯s behalf as well." He nodded in support, grateful for the excuse to lower his spoon. "But right now, after that long journey, I¡¯m craving something... more colorful. Do you have fruits?" He beamed, looking genuinely pleased by the request. ¡°Of course, Ma''am," he said, turning to leave. "Freshly harvested from the garden of mine that you both wrecked," he added over his shoulder as his voice trailed off down the corridor. With Dungeon Master 06 out of the room, it was just Dungeon Master 05 and me again. I pushed the green atrocity on my plate aside, mirroring his actions. "I had a feeling he¡¯d cook something this horrible when he led us to the kitchen," I muttered. ¡°I should¡¯ve known better, but somehow I hoped that after all these years, he would¡¯ve learned to cook something other than vegetables." Dungeon Master 05 leaned back slightly, glancing at me. "Charlie," he began, his brows furrowing. "He earlier mentioned a name... Charlie... That¡¯s Dungeon Master 10, right?" I nodded. "Yes. Charlie was his previous incarnation before... well, before what happened." He looked puzzled by the answer, but didn¡¯t comment on the name. "I see... and Frank? He mentioned both Charlie and Frank earlier. Who¡¯s Frank?" I eyed him from the corner of my vision and sighed. "Frank is¡ª" I began, but Dungeon Master 06¡¯s voice interrupted me as he re-entered the room. ¡°Frank was the first monster I bonded with,¡± Dungeon Master 06 said, setting a basket of vibrant, colorful fruits down on the table. ¡°My class allows me to form a deep bond with monsters, so that should explain everything to you, right?" Pretending not to notice the tension in Dungeon Master 06''s voice, I reached into the basket, pulling out a handful of strawberries, picking at them as Dungeon Master 05 nodded in understanding, though I could tell he picked up on the same tone I did. Sensing the awkward silence settle between us, I decided to break it. "On our way here, guess who we stumbled upon?" I asked Dungeon Master 05, handing the fruit basket to him. "Who?" he asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "The bait we¡¯re supposed to use to lure in my prized fish." "Aquaflora?" His surprise was clear, his face scrunching slightly. "Her? What did she do again?" I smirked, recalling the encounter. "Nothing. She just flew up to meet us, probably ready to engage if we¡¯d been hostile. But since we weren¡¯t, nothing happened." I was about to comment on how she made too good a bait when I paused, narrowing my eyes. "Wait, did you say ''again''? What did she do for you to say ''again''?" Dungeon Master 06 grimaced, the kind that told me something was amiss. ¡°Sigh¡­ she¡¯s been restless lately. Spying on me and Blondie. Heck, she even tracked down Ribbon. But you know him, the sneaky, slithering fella that he is,¡± he explained nervously. Hearing that tone, and the mention of Ribbon, I raised an eyebrow. This fool did something¡ªof that I was sure. And from the way he mentioned Ribbon and Blondie it seemed like he wasn¡¯t alone doing whatever he did. "What have you done?" B2. Chapter 06: Alexander With tattered garments and a face masked in soot, Alexander burst through the dense forest with a speed that shattered sound barriers. Branches snapped and trees quaked in his wake. The direction he ran toward was inconsequential; the moons that navigated others were absent in this forsaken part of the world. Not that he could have used them¡ªhis grasp on the date, or even the week, had long since slipped from his panicked mind. All that mattered was escape. The Land of Men would be ideal, but any distance from the dark confines of his recent captivity would be considered a victory. His breath ragged, his heart pounding against his ribcage, Alexander dared not glance back. The fear of seeing his abductors¡ªthe psychopathic elf, the mysterious girl with the visor, the chained brute figure, or that white monstruosity¡ªclose on his heels propelled him forward. He ran until the forest blurred into a mere backdrop of his escape. Only after crossing what he estimated to be dozens of kilometers did he allow himself to stop. He leaned heavily against a tree, his chest heaving. Time stretched thin as he peered into the dense foliage behind him. Seconds ticked into minutes, and still no sign of pursuit. A deep, shaky breath escaped him, a sigh of profound relief. Alexander¡ªdespite his disheveled appearance¡ªwas no ordinary man. He was a king, the seventh and most recent to serve under the One and Only Emperor. His rise to power, 137 years ago, had seen the fall of the queen of what was once called Wiedenfeld, a kingdom he had claimed and renamed through conquest. From a minor lord to a king, he had not only changed the name but had eradicated the old royal family entirely, ensuring no future threats could arise from their lineage. He had heard tales of mercy leading to ruin. In one such story, a king spared a formerly royal family, merely exiling them to a remote territory and reducing their status to that of a ducal house. This act of magnanimity allowed them to return with vengeance¡ªa thorough and deadly one¡ªtoppling his scarcely century-old dynasty. Having learned from that piece of history, Alexander chose to take no chances. In establishing his kingdom, any potential claimants had been ruthlessly hunted down and permanently eliminated, though a few elusive members remained beyond his reach. Yet, it was the rumor of a child¡ªa grandchild of the queen he had overthrown¡ªthat troubled him the most. This child, a ''Charlie'' born of a secret love between the ousted queen''s secret daughter and an elf, supposedly unlocked at a very young the coveted longevity skill. Alexander himself had mastered this skill, but the ease with which this child had begun to develop it hinted at a potential rival who could threaten his newly established dynasty. As he had done with the other members of that dynasty, he intended to eliminate her. But centuries before his ascentions, the former queen had spirited her granddaughter away to her father''s ancestral elven lands¡ªQuel''thalas. The thought of this child, possibly surviving and thriving, had hung over Alexander like a sword of Damocles for years. Despite his efforts and the establishment of a vast intelligence network with the help of his new allies within the church with the sole purpose to find that child, her whereabouts remained a mystery. However, recent intelligence had unexpectedly pinpointed her in a remote part of Quel''thalas. The information was scant, but it led him to a small elven village on the southern edge of the continent. The odds of finding her in such a vast land were slim, yet there she was. The descriptions matched, even the name she now bore. As he stared at her, relief flooded his mind, dispelling the weight he had felt hanging over his head. Alexander made a mental note to thank the priest who had provided the intelligence. That single piece of information had proven invaluable, and gratitude¡ªthough a rare commodity in his life¡ªwas duly owed. Despite his initial expectations, the girl''s strength was lower than he had anticipated, but not to be underestimated. Her longevity skill made her a latent threat. Determined to extinguish any remnant of the dynasty he had overthrown, he approached her with resolute finality, only to be blindsided by an ambush. At first, Alexander assumed the assailants were allies of the elf girl, especially when he spotted one of her kind among the attackers. However, the situation quickly escalated as the more non-elven figures joined the fray: a girl with the visor, a chained brute, and a white aberration that dealt him the most devastating blow. Confusion and questions plagued him as he lay captive, pondering the identities and motives of his mysterious captors. Now, as he sprinted through the elven landscape, the urgency to leave this godforsaken continent consumed him. The girl, a looming threat to his reign, was momentarily forgotten in his scramble for survival. His strides carried him hopefully towards the Land of Men when a chilling shadow and an inferno interrupted his escape. The sky exploded into flames as something collosal unleashed a fireball at subsonic speed. Alexander reacted instinctively, summoning a Shield Wall just in time. The defensive magic erupted, vaporizing the surrounding trees within a fifty-meter radius. As the smoke cleared and his heartbeat thundered in his ears, he looked up to face the monstrous creature responsible for the attack.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. What he saw flying in the sky made his heart skip several beats. Circling above was a creature he recognized¡ªa colossal red Wyvern. Ironically, it wasn''t the sight of the creature itself that made his heart skip, but rather the sight of the colossal beast being ridden by a humanoid silhouette, which he struggled to make out. "This has to be a joke," Alexander muttered, his voice trembling with paralyzing disbelief and intense desperation. He recognized the draconic beast, recalling a past encounter with a Red Wyvern¡ªone also ridden by a person, though that Wyvern had been smaller. As he caught a better glimpse of the figure astride the beast, the initial shock subsided, replaced by relief. He heaved a loud, unrestrained sigh. The rider of the red Wyvern was a young man with striking red hair¡ªnot the one he feared. The wyvern swooped down, spewing fire once more. Alexander defended himself with another burst of his Shield Wall, emerging partly unscathed. Bereft of his sword, confiscated from him by his assailants and captors, he prepared to retaliate with sorcery. But before he could unleash his spell, a blur of motion struck him with force enough to send him tumbling down a hill, crashing into a large tree that splintered upon impact. "What the hell was that..." he groaned, struggling to his feet. As he oriented himself, his gaze stumbled on a figure approaching¡ªthe last person he expected to encounter in such chaos. "Well, well, well, look who we have here," a voice teased with a mocking cheer, "if it isn''t the young Alexander." "You..." Sweat beaded Alexander''s forehead as fear knotted his stomach. The figure before him was a young woman, her dress deceptively mature for her seemingly early-twenties appearance. But Alexander knew better; beneath that youthful exterior lurked a centuries-old tyrant, older and far more ruthless than he could ever claim to be. His mind raced with disbelief and dread: How? Why? What is she doing here? As if immobilized by her hexes she infamous for, Alexander found himself frozen, the only words he could muster were a choked out, "Why are you here?" At his query, she chuckled, her amusement clear. "Why wouldn''t I be here?" she teased, her smile sharp as a blade. "Do I not have the right to be here just like you are, or did you expect me to be elsewhere in particular?" Indeed, Alexander had expected her to be anywhere but here. The last rumors whispered that after her audacious defiance of the One and Only Emperor, the Kingslaying Queen Arianna had sequestered herself within the perilous depths of the Voidborne Catacomb, issuing a challenge he never answered. The silence that followed her declaration led many, including Alexander, to speculate she had either perished in that terrible place or was still lurking there, perhaps waiting in vain or hiding in fear of imperial retribution. Yet here she was, not a ghost but as vivid and formidable as ever. To Alexander, a fellow usurper and kingslayer, Arianna had once been almost a figure of reverence¡ªa role model of sorts¡ªuntil he realized the madness that fueled her actions. While the emperor might tolerate the overthrow of one king by another of sufficient strength, Arianna''s subsequent regicides, especially her elimination of the Second King¡ªone of the last original kings from the emperor''s early reign¡ªsurely crossed a line that no one before her had dared to cross, as it was done with clear intent to provoke the emperor and challenge him to a battle to the death. Now, confronted with her presence, Alexander felt the acute threat she posed and the madness she exuded. If she had obliterated the Second King to weaken the emperor, what would stop her from killing him for the same reason? Desperate to preserve his life, Alexander quickly bowed low, an act of submission he hadn''t performed since his ascension, save before Emperor Cleon himself. "I didn''t mean to offend in any way or form. If I did, please forgive me," he implored, his voice laced with genuine fear. As he cautiously raised his eyes from the bow, he saw her smile widen ominously. "Tell me, little Alexander, did you really believe that with that little bow and apology I would simply let you go, especially after the trouble I had to go through to bait you here?" His heart sank. "Baited?" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the events leading to this moment. It suddenly clicked¡ªthe mysterious figures who had abducted him, their unexpected mess-up that allowed his escape¡ªit had all been orchestrated by her. But why, and how? She frowned at his confusion, then burst into a chuckle. "From how cowardly you usually are, I''d assumed you''d figured everything out. But it turns out you''re denser than I thought," she remarked, her laughter echoing with a chilling cadence. As daunting as her laugh was, the cold look that followed sent shivers down his spine. Alexander knew that fleeing was futile; an invisible force, his own sense of reason, held him in place. He valued his life dearly, and with his longevity skill recently advanced to level 4¡ªpromising him at least another 350 years¡ªhe was not ready to relinquish his future. "I have so much to live for," he reasoned internally, "I can''t afford to die now, not when I''ve just secured centuries more life." Gathering his courage, he spoke, desperation clear in his tone. "Surely there''s an arrangement we can make," he pleaded, ready to bargain with everything he had¡ªeven consider betraying the emperor, if that would secure his survival. But Arianna was unmoved. "Don''t waste your energy, Alexander," she declared, her voice void of any mercy. "I, Arianna, will kill you, Seventh King Alexander. You will either fight back or surrender obediently. Either way you will die today." As if these cold words weren''t enough, in the corner of his vision, a chilling notification flashed from his appraisal and identification skill combo: B2. Chapter 07: Secondary Class Casting a curse, as a Hexcaster ought to do, I addressed the man kneeling a few meters away. "Don''t waste your energy," I said. "Today, I, Arianna, will kill you, Seventh King Alexander. I will do so either with you fighting back or you obediently surrendering to the merciful death I have for you." The man seemed to take the news as if considering my latter proposition. He didn''t move an inch, but I knew him well enough, having spent over a century at his side, kinda, to know that wasn''t the case. His gaze lifted to meet mine, and his expression was one I could only describe as calculating. He seemed to be weighing his chances, and from the frown he couldn''t fully repress, I could tell the prognosis he reached wasn''t an optimistic one. But even so, it wasn''t enough for him to resign himself to being struck down without a fight. His next move proved as much. In an instant, a sword appeared in his hand, and in the next, several mirrored versions of himself manifested beside him, charging toward me. Calmly counterattacking, I couldn''t help but chuckle at the sight¡ªit reminded me of a certain someone''s skill, though this one was clearly more advanced, as the copies seemed to have some level of autonomy. Each clone engaged differently: some tried to deflect the rain of lances I unleashed upon them, others attempted to block or evade in their own ways. Despite their efforts, only a quarter of the initial twelve remained; the others shattered, unable to avoid or properly deflect my barrage of lances. Alexander, previously shielded by two of his mirrored selves, winced as he watched them shatter before his eyes. I thought he might launch another attack, but then I saw the notification in the corner of my vision, and I couldn''t help but laugh out loud. With a shout, Alexander hastily retreated into the sky, leaving behind his remaining mirrored versions to buy himself some time. I was still laughing when the clones attacked¡ªone unleashed lightning, and the other two launched light magic. Impressive strength for mere copies, but ultimately nowhere near enough to pose a threat to me. I casually erected a large wall of ice, shielding myself from their attack. Once the ice had served its purpose, I let it crumble away, allowing me to catch a glimpse of two of the clones charging forward. With just a mental command, I summoned more lances, freeing them upon the attackers. They bravely tried to survive, maneuvering as before, but with only three left, tearing through them was easier. One shattered, and soon after, so did the other, though not before using its last moments to shield the third, allowing it to get closer to me. It slipped past my lances, its sword swinging with no mercy, sending a shockwave that felled several trees with a gravity that shook the forest. But for all the force behind that blow, it failed to reach me¡ªI was already hovering above, observing the chaos from midair. While I didn''t have Flight like Alexander, I had my own ways¡ªseveral of them, actually¡ªof achieving something similar. The clone noticed where I was almost immediately, leaping toward me in an instant. I sighed, summoning a large icicle and hurling it at the clone. Swoosh! It sliced the ice cleanly in two, allowing the halves to slide past without injury. "That''s too much zeal for a mere clone," I muttered. But it worked to my advantage, as while the clone saved itself from that attack, it had halted him just long enough for me to finish it off. The lance I summoned right after the icicle closed the distance in less than a second, splitting the clone in two. I watched as the clone dissolved into nothingness, hovering in the air. It was then that I noticed a shadow approaching¡ªit was Veilleuse-19, with Dungeon Master 05 riding on her back. I waved at them before turning my attention back in the direction Alexander had fled. He was nowhere to be seen, even with the help of my Eagle Sight skill, but I wasn''t worried. Not only was he already very exhausted when I stumbled upon him, I had casted hex and curse on him. He wasn''t going anywhere I couldn''t follow. At this point, I could just wait for the curse and hex to claim his life. That was one option¡ªalbeit a very boring one. Killing a king like that, when there were only so many of them, would be a shame. Adjusting myself midair, I propelled forward like a diver ascending to the surface, applying Air Magic¡ªa new type of magic I had acquired upon choosing Mage as a secondary class along with water magic. The a powerful burst shot from my soles, propelling me forward with a sonic boom. In about thirteen booms, I caught sight of Alexander again, and in a dozen more, I was upon him, torpedoing toward him like a missile. He only had time to say, "What the¡ª" before I crashed into him. His measly level 7 Flight skill couldn''t save him, and we plummeted to the ground. We hit hard, and I recovered faster, grabbing onto whatever limb I could and tossing him into the distance. He crashed against several trees, knocking them down, and rolled for several dozen meters before finally coming to a stop. Despite the struggle, he got back on his feet, just in time to see me charging toward him with a heavy swing. He miraculously managed to activate a skill, erecting a barrier. It absorbed most of the blow, but not all of it¡ªthe barrier shattered, and my hit connected, sending him flying once more. He crashed with a satisfying thud, groaning loudly as he tried to get up. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Just like earlier, mirrors of him appeared as he called forth the skill, but this time there were only five of them. In each of their hands, a sword of intense light manifested. They initiated their stances and unleashed long-range, elementally infused slashes toward me. I chuckled as I, after rearranging the tiara on my head, proceeded to dodge the attacks, weaving around them with a serpentine grace that left Alexander unable to believe what he saw. "What!?" he exclaimed, disbelief clear in his voice. Not only was I dodging the attacks, but I was also closing the distance between us with effortless fluidity. "Stop her!" he shouted at his mirrored clones, sending them to meet me up close. They swung their elementally infused blades at me, managing to achieve their creator''s goal of stopping my advance, but achieving nothing more. I extended my arm, summoning a moon-like sphere that, in the next fraction of a second, unleashed a highly pressurized blast that engulfed the vicinity. As the pressure subsided, there was nothing left where I had been cornered except me. Despite my complete immunity, in that moment, I lost sight of Alexander. He was no longer in his previous position, but it didn''t take long for me to spot him again. He was high up in the air, his back turned, making yet another pitiful attempt at escape. Though the sight was annoying, I also found it quite amusing. With a stomp, I launched myself into the air after him. "Where are you going like that?" I called out. Hearing my voice, Alexander turned and swung his sword, sending several furious slashes my way. With a flick of my hand, I manifested three lances, shielding myself from his attack and emerging unscathed, much to his dismay. His expression twisted into a terrible grimace, and he began charging up a powerful attack, but before he could release it, a pillar of flame descended from the sky, taking him by surprise. He barely managed to evade the attack, and the ground below was engulfed in flames, turning the area into a veritable hellscape. Both he and I turned our gaze upward to see Veilleuse-19 and Dungeon Master 05 circling above. Alexander, though clearly annoyed by their interference, had enough on his plate and no time to waste on them. Ignoring them, he swung his sword to meet my approach as I closed in on him at sound-breaking speed. I used one of my spears as a shield, blocking his lightning- and light-infused blade. Now in close quarters, Alexander swung his fist at me¡ªvisciously, ungentlemanly, and without hesitation. But his fist met something just as powerful¡ªmy own. The resounding thud echoed through the air, and he barked in disbelief, "What?!" Without giving him a moment to recover, I morphed my fist into a grab, locking him in place. Then, with the other, I jabbed him square in the chest. He coughed up blood. Not giving him the chance to even catch his breath, I swung him down to the ground into which I followed him down immedaitely, raising my foot and slamming it down onto his chest in a brutal stomp just as he hit the earth, leaving him sprawled out and gasping for air. Amidst the resounding boom of the impact, I felt and heard the sound of several bones cracking under my feet, droplets of blood shooting upward. Standing above him, I watched as lightning began to build up around him, engulfing the area. But before it could reach me, I had already withdrawn to a safe distance. ''Here I was thinking you ran out of MP,'' I mused. ''I was wrong.'' Dusting off my robe, I watched Alexander struggle to his feet. He looked utterly miserable¡ªnot that he hadn''t already been before, but now it was even worse. His clothes were disheveled, his face bloodied, and his limbs¡ªarms and legs¡ªwere bent at unnatural angles. It was a wonder he could even stand, but the interface in the corner of my vision revealed the skills and abilities keeping him alive. Watching him patch himself up, I heard him mutter, "How?! This doesn''t make sense... how?" "What doesn''t?" I asked, amusement lacing my voice. "You should be a Hexcaster and a Mage!" he shouted, frustration clear in his eyes. "You shouldn''t be ab¡ª" He suddenly stopped, his eyes widening in realization. "You... you''ve changed class..." I smiled. "Ding, ding, ding. Well guessed. Congratulations on being the first human to find that out." He was right. About 120 years ago, upon reaching level 50¡ªthe dual class milestone¡ªI made the conscious decision to choose Mage as my secondary class, on top of my initial Hexcaster class. It was a decision I did not regret, considering the reasons that led me to it. But 50 years ago, after taking down the Second King and reaching level 75¡ªwhich allowed for another class change¡ªI decided to change my build, balance it out. My previous setup had been undeniably offense-focused and heavily reliant on magic. I had to fix that. Activating [Mantle of Serenity], one of the first abilities I had unlocked after choosing my new class, I watched as the tiara on my head, along with my long hair, vanished, replaced by chin-length hair with individual white strands running through it. My dress transformed seamlessly into a more suitable battle form. The fabric enveloping me was black, wrapping securely around my torso and arms, with intricate red or white scale-like designs along its surface. The outfit was sturdy yet flexible, designed for both protection and freedom of movement. Both my arms were covered in white gloves, sleek and snug. Around my waist, several metallic clasps and belts kept everything secure, their faint magical glow hinting at added defense. The lower half of my attire was equally practical, with reinforced leggings and knee-high boots adorned with green and gold patterns. Durable yet lightweight, the entire outfit provided heightened protection against magical attacks of the most common sort. Alexander''s eyes widened as he stared at my new attire. "...Monk," he mumbled. "Well guessed again," I taunted. "But I''m not just a Monk. I also got a special class, so I''m a little more than just that." Without another word, I thrust my hand forward, and his confusion deepened as he watched me plunge my hand into my own abdomen. Blood spilled messily, and with a groan, I retrieved something from within¡ªa partially invisible object, pulsing like a heartbeat. Almost immediately after the wound closed, the outfit began a self-repairing process. In less than three breaths, the battle garment was completely restored. A satisfied smile on my face, I looked down at what I had pulled out. Despite being covered in blood, it was almost invisible, save for the heartbeat-like pulse spreading across its surface. It was roughly the size and shape of a large potato. Anyone might mistake it for a crystal, but it wasn''t¡ªit was alive, or at least as alive as an eldritch being could be. The pulse intensified as I held it, and soon it began to writhe like a worm, slow at first, then frantically, until it seemed to explode. Chains¡ªmy chains¡ªextended from my arm, expanding in all directions to catch the bits into which the creature had dispersed. I had to catch them, partly because of the damage they could cause if unleashed, but mostly because I still had a use for them. Gathering them back into my palm, they squirmed, clumping together into a disgusting mass. "You''ll always be disturbing to look at, no matter how much time I''ve spent with you," I couldn''t help but sigh at the sight. It had been over eighty years since I found these creatures¡ªSoulstriders, or as they were lovingly called in the hellish place I gathered them from, Fate Gluttons. They were exactly the kind of beings you want to keep far, far away from you. Any sane person would think that, and I had thought so too when I first found them. Knowing what they did to their hosts¡ªparasitizing and siphoning experience¡ªI was disgusted by their existence. But I came to realize that I could use them, and so I gathered them, raised them, and made them my tool. For fifty years, I acted as their host, feeding them experience that should''ve been mine. But today was different. The experience I was about to harvest from Alexander would be mine alone. Bringing my other hand over the disturbing mass, I cast a curse upon them, effectively petrifying them into a rock-like form. Satisfied, I smiled and lifted my gaze back to Alexander. "Sorry for the interruption. Now, where did we left off?" B2. Chapter 08: Slaughterer [Hex Components Harvested] [Notification] Congratulations! You''ve been bestowed a Title! Title Name: Kinslaughterer Description [Identification Lvl.10]: You have transcended mere betrayal and bloodshed¡ªyours is the art of eradicating entire bloodlines and turning your back on the deepest of bonds. The title of Kinslaughterer is granted only to those who revel in the massacre of their own kind with unparalleled skill and cruelty. This title provides immense power when fighting against humans and those of your own race, making you a nearly unstoppable force in any conflict where your kin becomes your prey. Title¡¯s Bestowed Enhancement: - Human Attack Potency: Your proficiency against humans is now unmatched. You deal 60% increased damage to human opponents. Every strike will tear through them with ease, leaving no room for hesitation or mercy. - Critical Strike Chance (Humans): Your precision is elevated to deadly heights when fighting humans. Your critical strike chance against humans increases by 40%. Each blow carries overwhelming lethality, ensuring their demise with terrifying efficiency. - Resistance Bypassing (Humans): Your assaults ignore a vast majority of human defenses, reducing their resistance to your attacks by 80%. Armor, magic, and barriers will crumble before your onslaught, offering no protection as you carve through your enemies. - Kin Carnage Surge: For every human of similar tier of level slain in combat, you gain 5% of your maximum HP, MP, and SP restored, allowing you to sustain yourself in prolonged battles and continue your bloody conquest without pause. - Fatigue Reduction: The exertion required to combat humans is drastically reduced, lowering your rate of fatigue accumulation by 500% when engaging human opponents. This allows you to maintain peak performance and endurance, outlasting your foes with minimal weariness. At the sight of that interface, I sighed, shaking my head in irony as I muttered, "Finally!" It had been a while since I had wanted to acquire that title. KinSlayer was cool once, but it''s not anymore when you''ve lived for hundreds of years. The irony of acquiring that titlle now was that, for the past century before the fifty years I holed myself in the Voidborne Catacombs, I had been actively trying to level that title to KinSlaughterer, the improved version of KinSlayer. I could remember clearly how, when I first got KinSlayer, it caused big problems, especially with the faith I had gotten involved with because of Dungeon Master 07. I was no longer the little girl I used to be, the nobody I once was. Back then, it was problematic for me to bear that title as that made me in the eyes of the faith a paria. But for people like kings who consider themselves¡ªand are even seen to be¡ªabove others, it¡¯s normal to wield the KinSlayer title. After all, those bastards betray and kill each other as soon as they get the opportunity. But with KinSlaughterer, people might, well, they definitely would raise an eyebrow, especially considering the amount of kin slaying required to unlock the skill. But, when you have the power or the means to do so, no one dares to say much. In my case, most of my efforts to unlock that skill were done under the guise of being a king who abhores bandits and did her best to exterminate the vermin from this world. No one dared to complain¡ªnot even the church¡ªwhen I, in one night, eliminated all the bandits in a region. In fact, I was often praised, mostly by the common people. That being said, those of higher influence weren¡¯t all that fond of my raids. But, well, it wasn''t like they interfered so it''s fair to say that my "glitch" worked. And yet, even through hundreds of years of slaughtering bandits until banditry became a thing of the past, I was not able to get the slaughterer title. But I did not give up. My next attempt came in the form of going after my fellow king and his closest ones. To be fair, getting the KinSlaughterer title was not exactly the main goal but more of a secondary one. Anyway, it still resulted in me not getting the title. Fifty years... fifty years since I haven''t killed a human. I didn¡¯t even think about acquiring that title today when I decided to go against Alexander. All I thought about was harvesting memories and experience from him, and yet I got it somehow. "Perhaps this is what¡¯s called a miracle. Gotta thank the Goddess properly for this," I said, kneeling down to retrieve my prize. It was then, just as I finished, that I saw Dungeon Master 05, on Veilleuse-19, make a landing a few meters away from me. Staring at what I held in my hands, he asked, "He¡¯s not going to fall upon us for this, is he?" "Who? Oh, him?" I replied. "Don¡¯t worry, he¡¯s a monarch. He will never leave his domain." "Even if we just killed one of his kings?" "I have killed one of his kings before. Two, in fact. Did he leave his domain to come for me?" I asked. He shook his head. "See? People think that our beloved emporor cares the slightest bit about his kings, but he¡¯s indifferent to them and their drama," I explained before adding, "To him, his kings are just components he feels he can replace anytime. If he has any concern, it¡¯s perhaps not having something to replace the lost component. Remember what I did to the King of Graysteel and his dynasty? Why do you think I somehow managed to become king myself?" "I see," he nodded. I smiled. "As Goblin told you, there¡¯s nothing to worry about kings or emperors here," I said. He nodded again before looking at the grotesque mess in my hands. "Did you level up?" he asked. "No, but I¡¯ve acquired a title I¡¯ve been looking for for a while," I replied before asking, "Do you have a spatial ring? Can you store this for me?" I tossed my prize to him, which he clumsily received. "What!? Why?" "I might have use for it later. Careful¡ªit¡¯s a king¡¯s head that you¡¯re handling with so much disgust," I said. He seemed to expect more explanation, but since I gave none, he accepted it and proceeded to store the thing away. "You don¡¯t have a spatial ring? Those are sold for cheap by the guild to high-ranking adventurers." "Oh," I responded, "I had one that I purchased from the guild, but I gave it away." "Why?" "Someone needed it more than I did, and I don¡¯t like it all that much. It¡¯s too convenient." "Too convenient?" "Yes. Have you ever gone on a journey with a horse and a backpack before? You know what, never mind. If you don¡¯t get it now, I don¡¯t think you will." "Alright." Glancing down at the headless corpse beneath me, he asked, "What level was he?" "Him? I don¡¯t know, but he was at least level 70-ish. Easily 75, even, I would say." Despite none of the battle prowess he displayed suggesting so, he was without a doubt within that range. It was just that he happened to be heavily exhausted by what he went through before I caught up to him. "You¡¯ve killed someone level 75, and you¡¯ve not leveled up?" "Well, I was basically picking up on a weakened opponent," I said, reaching onto Alexander¡¯s leg and dragging his body. "The system saw that, and the all-knowing system is always fair," I added, dragging Alexander¡¯s body by the feet before launching it high up into the sky, where Veilleuse-19 engulfed the headless corpse in one single bite. I felt it was a bit of a waste to dispose of the corpse like that, but it was a far better fate than that of the last king I''d slain. Fifty years ago, right after taking down one of Cleon''s most loyal kings¡ªone of his original companions, one who was at his side when he ascended as a monarch¡ªI had left the corpse there for Cleon to find, along with a letter of challenge, in an attempt to lure him to come after me to the Voidborne Catacomb. But then, from what I heard, while he found the letter, he found no corpse¡ªit was nowhere to be seen when, in fact, I was sure I left it there, making me theorize that the corpse had been seized by some third party. For what purpose, I could only think of one involving necromancy; that''s the only reason I could imagine. It wasn''t his family; it couldn''t be, not after the carnage I left behind. So that''s the only reason I could think someone would want the corpse of a king¡ªone that was closing in on the three-digit threshold level. I was no necromancer, but had I known it would have gone like that, I would have rather kept his corpse to myself, fed it to Veilleuse-19 like I did with Alexander''s corpse. The idea that someone made a gain on my back pissed me off.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "I guess there¡¯s that..." "There¡¯s also your level requirement," I added. "What¡¯s even your level?" I chuckled. "75." He had a look that made it clear he didn¡¯t believe me. "Is that true?" "I have been level seventy-five for the past fifty years," I answered. He still seemed unconvinced, especially with how he eyed me up and down. "Why would I lie about that?" I asked, coming to my own assumption. "Is it because I haven¡¯t told you that I went through a class change when we talked about the class I chose when I reached level 50? I haven¡¯t lied back then. I did choose Mage; I just then changed my core class to Monk when I got the opportunity to," I explained, before adding, "I just didn¡¯t tell you about it. I wanted it to be a surprise." "A surprise, huh?" He didn¡¯t seem to enjoy my little surprise all that much. This one is uptight, as expected of someone raised by him, I chuckled internally. "Is that why you never mentioned the specifics about us coming here? Like the fact that Dungeon Master 09 and 13 wouldn¡¯t be with us for the journey, or even the fact that you didn¡¯t mention the existence of that girl¡ªwas that supposed to be a surprise too?" There he goes, I thought. He finally mentioned it. Though in truth, even if he hadn¡¯t, I had already guessed that was what it was about. "So that¡¯s what it was about," I said, pretending not to have guessed it. "Yes," he said, "that¡¯s what it is about. Blondie, you and Dungeon Master 06 called her. Who is she? For I know for a fact that that girl isn¡¯t any of us Dungeon Masters, yet she seemed thoroughly involved in all of this." He began to complain before ultimately asking the question at the heart of the matter: "Who is she?" "Well," I sighed, "first, how about you calm down? I wasn¡¯t hiding anything." Though, to be honest, there were indeed subjects I believed could be left for later¡ªsuch as this one¡ªbut now the time had come for it to be addressed. "It was as I said earlier. I wanted to keep it a surprise. Her existence is one of those surprises. Blondie is¡ª" I began, before interrupting myself when something caught my attention. "What is it?" Dungeon Master 05 asked, smart enough to pick up on my reaction. "Someone¡¯s fighting," I explained, staring in the direction we¡¯d come from. "And it¡¯s coming from where Goblin and the others were." Riding on Veilleuse-19, Dungeon Master 05 and I quickly reached where the source of the battle was. Hovering above, I saw three people: two girls and an elf. The man was pinning one of the girls to the ground, while the other girl was holding a fancy cane, at the end of which a magic circle appeared, ready to unleash its effect at a serpentine creature. Anyone familiar enough with magic circle staves would recognize the cane as such. She was holding it like someone ready to unleash it at a moment''s notice. Jumping off, as there was no correct landing spot for Veilleuse-19, Dungeon Master 05 and I landed not far from the three of them. The scene we arrived to was that of a battle at a moment of suspense¡ªor perhaps, more accurately, a finished battle. About a dozen meters away from me, a fellow Dungeon Master of mine, Goblin, was ungentlemanly pinning down an young female elf by the back of the neck¡ªone that I had seen no earlier than this morning. She was one of the elves that had come to meet us high up in the sky, seemingly ready to engage if we were hostile, which we weren¡¯t. Some distance away, a girl dressed elegantly with golden hair was ready to assault a creature that, from high above, I had assumed to be a wyrm. But from the distance separating us now, it was obvious that what she was practically holding at gunpoint was, despite the color susceptible to being mistaken for another of its subcategory, a mythical creature known as a Dilong---a subspecies of Loong. Loong were monster that belonged to the Mythical Beasts category just like my dear Veilleuse-19, save that this one was clearly of a sub-par tier of strength. "What¡¯s going on here?" I asked, approaching. "We told her to leave, she wouldn¡¯t listen," Goblin explained, mercilessly increasing the strength with which he restrained the girl. The sight made me question the way I raised him. My boy, haven¡¯t I taught you to be gentle with the ladies? Well, I¡¯m joking and all, but in truth, this was no laughing matter. I only needed a glance to understand what was happening. From the look of it, and as Goblin had said, he had told her to leave. The girl was clearly coming to see my battle against Alexander but was stopped by Goblin and Blondie. Goblin had explained it earlier in the day¡ªshe had been keeping them on their toes ever since she got roped into the mess of this ploy to bait Alexander here. The initial premise of this plan, as I had devised it and forwarded to Dungeon Master 07, was to lure Alexander to Elven territory, where I would handle him myself. But as Goblin explained, something happened that made them¡ªDungeon Master 06, Dungeon Master 09, Dungeon Master 13, and Blondie¡ªstep forward and defeat him. The reason was that Alexander stumbled upon the bait that brought him here too quickly, and from the way she literally came out to meet us in the sky earlier today, I could see how it happened. Anyway, the result of all this was that Alexander was defeated, but wanting to still adhere to my plan to defeat him myself, the four of them held the king captive, awaiting my arrival, where I was expected to follow through and defeat him myself. I can''t say I admire the devotion, but I also can''t help but be impressed by the idea of restraining a king. Defeating someone is one thing, but keeping them captive is another. But, well, they managed to do so, with only one recurring problem¡ªher. She was apparently intent on figuring out what happened to the man who had suddenly attacked her and was swiftly defeated by strangers who seemed all too ready to handle him. Perhaps she realized that her role in this whole plan was that of bait, or perhaps she was just eager to know the fate of the man responsible for the downfall of her family. But the fact remains that in the following days, even weeks, she had been monitoring Goblin and Blondie to figure out the truth. It''s not hard to understand¡ªthat''s what happened here again. And today, as she took notice of the commotion of our battle, she wanted to see it but was stopped by Goblin and Blondie. Looking at Goblin, I could tell he was annoyed by the girl, but I knew the Dungeon Master well enough to know that the light in his eyes wasn''t just annoyance¡ªit was something more ominous. Which is why, with a stern voice, I ordered, "Release the girl, Lee." "Yes, Ma''am," he obliged, withdrawing without a complaint. I glanced at Blondie, my gaze meeting hers despite the visor hiding her gaze. She withdrew her magic circle, and as she did, the small loong lunged at the elven girl, coiling around her body like a very clingy pet. After throwing a mean glance at Goblin, who didn¡¯t show a hint of a reaction to it, the girl on the ground stood up, dusting herself off. Her blue eyes met mine¡ªno doubt the same curious eyes from that day, albeit older. The elven girl¡¯s hair was tied in a simple ponytail, hair that was an unusual shade of blonde that I was tempted to describe as ashy blonde despite not being quite that. The elf looked older than the last time I had seen her, but it had been centuries ago, so of course she looked older. But, once again, if one considered the fact that it was centuries ago, not much had changed. She looked at best eight years older than back then. "It''s been a while since I last saw you, Miss Aquaflora." "It''s been almost two centuries, Miss Arianna." To rocket the chitchat, I really felt like mentioning Alphonse, but I quickly realized that was a very awkward subject to talk about, since the fate of the man was obvious. Humans don¡¯t live that long, unless, of course, they managed to level their longevity skill, which is a privilege available to just anyone. "I''m surprised you still remember me after so long." "I have heard about you," she said. "Oh, you have...." "Yes," she nodded. "So perhaps I should call you Queen Arianna." "Arianna is fine," I said. "No need for such formality between friends, because we''re friends, right?" In that moment, she cast a glance at Goblin, whom she clearly wasn''t fond of at all, then Blondie, then Dungeon Master 05, who stood still where he had landed, before looking at me again. "That depends." Girl, you''re so brave you''re stupid, I thought. The right answer to that question is obvious. But calmly, I just asked, "Depends on what?" "That man... the king... Alexander. What''s your link with him?" "My link?" I echoed. Girl, my link with him is that I''m the one who had him baited to his demise¡ªthe bait being you. I felt like answering, but I couldn¡¯t do that, so instead, I said, "None. He is just one of my... fellow kings." The expression on her face made it clear that she didn¡¯t believe my words, so I felt like adding more to coat my lies. But a glance at Dungeon Master 06, who seemed very fed up with the girl, and another glance at Dungeon Master 05, who literally stared at Blondie without giving the poor girl a second of respite, made me decide not to entertain this any further for now. I had more urgent matters to tend to. "I have heard about the strife between you and my fellow king, so I can assure you he won''t be a problem to you anymore, in any way," I reassured before adding, "You may go and live your life as you used to." The girl clearly didn¡¯t seem satisfied, but not giving her the chance to add anything, I continued, "You once saved the life of someone very dear to me, which left me in your debt, despite what I gave you to thank you back then. But today, I believe I have finally repaid that debt, leaving the two of us on equal footing. We might not be friends, but we are by no means enemies, so I suggest we keep things that way, or else..." In that moment, perhaps understanding the threat carried by my words, the loong clinging to her retracted, and she instinctively glanced at Goblin, who stared at her with a glare that was outright malevolent. Despite the boldness she had displayed thus far, she understood my point. She retrieved her broom from a corner and used it to make an ascent into the sky, disappearing from the scene, leaving only the four of us: me, Goblin, Blondie, and Dungeon Master 05, who looked at me with an expression that demanded an explanation about the identity of the girl: Blondie. I couldn¡¯t help but sigh a little. B2. Chapter 09: Sharonne Upon figuring out that we could actually use the authority of Greed and Resurgence in a way that allowed us to reincarnate into a desired vessel, under the condition that the said vessel was a baby, instead of a random newborn human in Fiendfell, several of my fellow Dungeon Masters were reincarnated through that method. For the most part, they were like Dungeon Master 06, reincarnated into non-humans, as we also discovered it was possible to have Dungeon Masters reincarnate into other sentient races and much more, provided we had an available vessel of the desired race. With the perfect vessels prepared, four of my fellow Dungeon Masters were reborn as non-humans¡ªthose being Dungeon Master 06, Dungeon Master 03, Dungeon Master 13, and the first of them all to go through this, Dungeon Master 09. Although they were reincarnated into races with different life cycles from humans, growing at different paces, there was one thing that made this type of reincarnation similar to the conventional one we were used: as babies, they were as vulnerable as their human counterparts, and they still needed as much care as any normal child. I took over that role, raising the four of them. Considering what they each were, I believed the right way to raise them was to immerse them in environments familiar to the races they had reincarnated into. Therefore, I didn''t raise them in the Voidborne Catacomb where most of my experiments with the authority had taken place. Instead, I made sure they were exposed to elven, demonic, and therianthrope cultures as much as possible. Of the three, it was the elven culture that they spent the most time around, mostly because it seemed to fit them better than the other two. This mansion, in the middle of nowhere, was where they grew up, more or less. *** After dealing with Alexander, though not exactly as I had planned, and fixing our little issue with the half-breed princess, I, along with the others, returned to the mansion we had left in a hurry after being briefed by Goblin on what they had done without me. We were back, seated at the large table in the kitchen, where we were earlier presented with a not-so-appetizing meal, but now things were different. A lovely-looking young girl with golden hair tied in a high bun served us a meal that looked and smelled wonderful¡ªfar different from the morning¡¯s offering. "Heartshire hare with accompaniments, Ivan''s specialty, the Forest Feast," Blondie said, introducing the dishes. The main course was tender rabbit, pan-seared with herbs like thyme, rosemary, and wild garlic. It appeared roasted over a fire, with a crispy, rustic skin that kept the inside juicy. It was served with wild mushrooms, roasted root vegetables like parsnips and carrots, and a light herb sauce made from foraged greens, such as nettles and dandelion leaves, with a splash of mead or wine for flavor. I was eager to start eating, but I wasn¡¯t about to do so without the cook joining us. I was about to praise Blondie for the meal and ask her to sit with the three of us when Goblin let out what sounded like a moan of approval. "Blondie, you''re the best," he praised. "You like it?" "If I like it? Of course I do¡ªit''s even better than Bortz''s original! I¡¯d say you''ve surpassed him by miles." Blondie smiled, her eyes shutting briefly as she replied, "There you go, exaggerating again." "I''m absolutely not exaggerating," Goblin insisted. I backed him up. "He''s right. I haven¡¯t even tasted it yet, but it looks far better than Bortz''s." "Ma''am," Blondie responded, sheepishly. The way she spoke, bashful at the praise, brought a nostalgic smile to my face. "I''ll get some refreshments," she declared before asking, "Ma''am, red?" "You know me well," I answered with a nodded. She nodded and left to get some red wine. As soon as she left the room, Goblin spoke up, bluntly saying what I had also noticed. "Buddy," he began, looking at Dungeon Master 05, who sat beside him, "you''re staring too much." Dungeon Master 05 flushed and stammered, "I... I was¡ª" Goblin interrupted, "She might not be able to see you, but she can still sense the gaze you¡¯re throwing at her. I know she¡¯s the perfect image of the ideal woman, but at least try to be subtle about it." Dungeon Master 05 turned redder, attempting to deny the claim. "I... I wasn¡¯t doing that!" "Spare him, Goblin," I scolded. Goblin returned his focus to his meal, while I added, "He¡¯s messing with you," to Dungeon Master 05. "Still, you were staring a bit too much. Though I know why you''re staring that that much." With a tinge of annoyance, Dungeon Master 05 asked, "If you two know why I¡¯m staring, then why not answer the question that made me stare in the first place¡ªwho is she?" Before I could respond, Blondie returned with a bottle of wine. At the sight of her, Goblin immediately said, "Since Ma¡¯am hasn¡¯t introduced you two, I¡¯ll do it my way. Sharonne, this guy glaring at you over there is Licht. He¡¯s a human, an adventurer¡ªa well-known one in the land of men, in fact. He¡¯s an older brother, of sorts, to me, Bortz, and White, a little brother to Luci, and arguably an older brother of some sort to Ma¡¯am too. But that¡¯s too convoluted to explain, so just understand that he¡¯s one of us, like Charlie was. Peace to his soul." Sharonne nodded, "looking" in Licht¡¯s direction before acknowledging him. Goblin continued, "That beautiful girl over there is Sharonne. She¡¯s human too¡ªan adventurer, albeit a low-ranked one because of the time she¡¯s spent away from the land of men. But that¡¯s no reason to look down on her; she¡¯s a friend and... family."This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Dungeon Master 05 seemed to barely hold himself in place, confused by Goblin¡¯s casual naming of several Dungeon Masters the girl clearly recognized. When Goblin referred to her as family, Dungeon Master 05 shot me a look, his eyes demanding an explanation. I whispered, "Don''t worry, I¡¯ll explain, but it''s a long story. I''m not doing that on an empty stomach." With that, I took my first bite of the meal, and it was even more delicious than it looked. Though Dungeon Master 05 seemed impatient, I ignored his gaze. As Blondie deftly uncorked the wine bottle and poured my glass, I said, "Thanks, love." She nodded and moved to Dungeon Master 05, who seemed in no mood for wine, but with Goblin practically staring into his soul, he didn¡¯t dare refuse. Blondie poured his glass while I thought about the awkward atmosphere¡ªthen decided to ignore it. "You''re not eating?" I asked, noticing Blondie hadn¡¯t sat down to eat. She shook her head. "I¡¯m fine." "She said she¡¯s trying to lose some weight," Goblin added. I looked her up and down and asked, "What weight?" I wouldn''t say she was petite¡ªshe stood over 170 cm¡ªbut compared to the giants she was surrounded by, she indeed looked small. Even so, there was nothing about her that suggested she was over her ideal weight¡ªin fact, she seemed to be under it. "I was wondering the same thing," Goblin added. "I did put on some weight recently," she said, "it just doesn''t show." Goblin and I exchanged shrugs, and I said, "Alright then." After we finished eating, Blondie announced she was going for a bath, while Goblin, whom I had assumed would assist me in answering Dungeon Master 05¡¯s questions, left to apparently fetch towels for Blondie¡ªclaiming our arrival on Veilleuse-19 had messed up the batch he¡¯d left out to dry. It was an excuse, and I could tell, but I didn¡¯t blame him. If I could¡¯ve avoided the conversation, I would have too. Deciding to take the discussion to one of the rooms, I chose the one that had once belonged to me and had been prepared by Goblin and Blondie. "So are you finally going to answer my question?" Dungeon Master 05 asked, standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed. "Alright, alright," I sighed, preparing myself. "I promised to tell you, so I will tell who Blondie is." Dungeon Master 05 had almost immediately realized that Blondie wasn¡¯t like Goblin, Bortz, Luci, or even White, that she wasn¡¯t a Dungeon Master. To help him understand who she was and how she became so involved in our affairs, I had to start at the beginning---her birth. No, even before her birth, over a century and a half ago. Several decades after I figured out the alternative reincarnation method through the Greed and Resurgence authorities, having mastered the craft, I decided to finally put my knowledge to practical use. Until then, I had mostly been experimenting¡ªpushing the boundaries, making discoveries both groundbreaking and tragic. But then, I was ready to use that knowledge toward our grand goal. The idea was to provide Dungeon Masters with vessels that suited their missions or roles. It was around six years after my successful experiment with the vessel given to Dungeon Master 13 that I set out to do the same for Dungeon Master 14. Dungeon Master 07 had plans for Dungeon Master 14 to be born as a Highbreed, to infiltrate the faith and be raised to a position of influence. So, I began my search for the perfect vessel. Though there was nothing concrete that indicated heredity played a role in how successful a reincarnated vessel would be, I believed it mattered. I sought out noble families known for producing talented children. One particular family stood out, and since they were vassals to the royal me of that time, I decided that Dungeon Master 14¡¯s vessel would come from them. I waited for news of a pregnancy in that family, so I could take the mother and soon-to-be child to the Voidborne Catacomb to finalize the process. During that time, I heard a quieter piece of news¡ªa child was indeed expected, but it was a child that''d be expected out of wedlock, the result of an affair between the heir and a girl of no status. It wasn¡¯t what I¡¯d planned, but I figured it could work. I could always pull strings to have the child recognized and integrated into the family if necessary. I stealthily took the mother and brought her to the Voidborne Catacomb. Things went well until the day of delivery, and then everything went wrong. First, the birth didn¡¯t go smoothly, resulting in the mother¡¯s unfortunate death. The second problem was that the child was female. All of us Dungeon Masters, Dungeon Master 14 was no exception, had lived their previous lives as male. Despite being genderless as Dungeon Cores, the idea of reincarnating as a female vessel was uncomfortable for them, especially as it meant all subsequent reincarnations would also be female. And then, the third problem: the child was frail. Frailer than any I had seen, and something was clearly wrong with her eyes. Dungeon Master 14 couldn¡¯t bring himself to reincarnate into a vessel like that. As frustrated as I was, I couldn¡¯t blame him. Feeling bad, he offered to use the usual reincarnation process instead¡ªand did, ironically reincarnating as someone else¡¯s daughter. "So she was supposed to be Dungeon Master 14¡¯s first vessel?" Dungeon Master 05 asked after I explained everything. I nodded. "That was the plan. But things don¡¯t always go as expected. To be honest, back then, I didn¡¯t expect Blondie to last beyond her first day. She was small, frail, and visually impaired. I couldn¡¯t have been more wrong." I had several options for what to do with her, but none felt right. She was blind, frail, and seemed destined to die like her mother. Maybe it was because I had already associated her with Dungeon Master 14, but I couldn¡¯t just abandon her. I decided to raise her alongside the then-young Dungeon Masters¡ªDungeon Master 13, Dungeon Master 03, and Dungeon Master 06. And much to everyone¡¯s surprise, mine included, she grew up healthy. She didn¡¯t recover her sight, but she adapted, striving to follow in their footsteps. She leveled up, acquired the Longevity skill, and even kept up with them. "¡ªwhich is why, as you¡¯ve seen, she¡¯s so involved. She¡¯s practically family," I explained. "Does Dungeon Master 07 know about¡ª? No, if he knew, he¡¯d have told me." I chuckled. "You¡¯re right. He would¡¯ve, if he knew. To be precise, he knows about her, but not that she¡¯s still around." "Who else knows?" "There¡¯s me," I began, "Goblin¡ªDungeon Master 06, Bortz¡ªDungeon Master 13, Luci¡ªDungeon Master 03, and in recent years, Charlie¡ªformerly Dungeon Master 10. Dungeon Master 00. And now you." Dungeon Master 05 rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if dealing with a headache, which was understandable. I waited in silence for him to process what I¡¯d said. Eventually, he asked, "What do you expect me to do with this information?" "Me? Nothing. You wanted to know, so I told you. What you do with it is up to you. But if you want to know how I¡¯d like you to react, I¡¯d say I hope you react like Dungeon Master 10 did." "How did he react?" Dungeon Master 05 frowned. "He didn¡¯t complain¡ªnot to me, not to White, not to Goblin or Bortz. Not even after getting to know Sharonne personally. She¡¯s proven herself to us." Truthfully, Dungeon Master 10 didn¡¯t complain because he was a newborn at the time. By the time he could speak, he had nothing left to complain about. But Dungeon Master 05 didn¡¯t need to know that. After a moment of contemplative silence, Dungeon Master 05 said, "There¡¯s one thing I¡¯d like to know. Does she know that what you told me is her story?" I smiled. "What do you think?" Interlude It was already deep in the night when I finished my discussion with Dungeon Master 05. The conversation had veered off on several tangents, eventually focusing on what I had planned for this excursion. According to him, I was acting too unpredictably, and he wanted to know what my plans were for everyone involved. Despite his insistence, I put the rest of the conversation on hold, claiming I was tired and needed sleep. But I didn¡¯t actually sleep. Ten minutes later, I slipped out of my room and made my way to the veranda. The veranda was easily my favorite spot in this place, especially on a night like this. Sitting on the steps, I looked up at the sky. There was no moon, just thousands upon thousands of stars shining with a vivacity that couldn''t be seen in the Land of Men, where the moons usually stole the spotlight. I sat there, stargazing, when I heard footsteps behind me. "Done with the talk?" asked Goblin. I had already seen him approaching, thanks to my skill [Perfect Vision], an enhanced version of [Eagle Eyes], despite his attempts to remain unnoticed. I nodded. "What did he say?" he asked. I looked back at him, giving him a look that begged him to drop the act. "Do we really have to pretend you didn''t eavesdrop on the entire conversation?" He chuckled. "No, we don¡¯t," he admitted, moving to sit beside me. I sighed. "I would have loved it if you actually helped me instead of just listening in. He didn¡¯t exactly give me a lecture, but it still felt like I was being scolded by Dungeon Master 07." Goblin winced sympathetically. "Sorry," he said. "I would have helped, but I think my presence might have made things more complicated." "How so?" I asked, genuinely curious. "I don¡¯t think I would have handled any remarks against her very well." I was surprised by this admission. Goblin had grown fond of Sharonne over the years, despite his initial reservations when I first brought her here. His protectiveness was expected, to a certain extent, but the idea that he would antagonize another Dungeon Master on her behalf was concerning. I cared for Sharonne too, but there were things I held above her¡ªour original taboos, our duty as Dungeon Masters, our bond. The way I had explained things earlier might have made Dungeon Master 05 think I prioritized her over all else, but that wasn¡¯t true. My loyalty to our purpose remained unshaken.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. I kept my thoughts to myself and listened as Goblin continued. "They died for her too, you know," he said, his voice quieter. It wasn''t hard to guess who he meant. "Charlie and Frank?" He nodded. Charlie, the previous incarnation of Dungeon Master 10, and Frank, the creature bonded to him¡ªa loyal companion from his monster-imprinting class, a creature he had essentially grown up with. "They died to give her a chance to escape from that bastard." I had heard the full story from Dungeon Master 10 before his death, and then from Dungeon Master 13 when he rejoined me in the Voidborne Catacomb. The image of what had happened came vividly to mind¡ªthe authority being forcefully stolen, Frank slain, and a fellow Dungeon Master sacrificing himself to ensure Sharonne¡¯s escape. The memory made Goblin¡¯s point painfully clear. We heard soft footsteps approaching behind us. Neither of us needed to turn around to know it was Blondie, dressed in pink pajamas and fluffy slippers. She walked up and wordlessly wedged herself snugly at my left. Goblin, perhaps prompted by Blondie getting comfortable, also leaned in closer, laying his head on my shoulder. "I know I shouldn''t say this," he whispered, "especially when I almost cost us all that authority, but I want that bastard to pay." Silence settled between us. He added, "I know about our policy toward retribution. I haven¡¯t forgotten, but with my whole being, I want that bastard and everything dear to him to burn." I wanted to look at his face, but the way he leaned on my shoulder made that impossible. Part of me didn¡¯t like the fact that today he had admitted something that, if confessed to someone like Dungeon Master 07, would have caused great concern and marked him with suspicion. Yet another part of me loved it¡ªthat he trusted me enough to reveal these incriminating thoughts. That same part of me wanted to tell him that I, too, after hearing what that bastard had done, wanted vengeance. But the part of me that remembered my status as a Dungeon Master and my duty to the Goddess prevailed. "I came here to retrieve an authority that belongs to the Goddess," I said. "Retrieving it from the usurper is the justice expected of me, and I will do that. I will bring justice." I paused, then added, "As for how I plan on doing it, you¡¯ve heard the plan I laid out through Bortz, I believe." Both of them nodded. "Do either of you have a problem with it?" They shook their heads. "Then that¡¯s how we¡¯ll proceed¡ªwith my version of justice. Parts of the plan have already deviated, like what happened with Alexander. Unexpected things happened, and I expect you to adapt to them as they come. That¡¯s the kind of flexibility I need from both of you. So let¡¯s put aside anything that gets in the way of delivering justice." B2. Chapter 10: Rule and Overrule What exactly happened with that newly discovered authority? To answer that question, one must first understand how the authority was discovered in the first place, because it wasn¡¯t just randomly found. It all began about twenty years ago, during Dungeon Master 07''s last visit to the Voidborne Catacomb. With his latest incarnation, he had been striving to inform me and Dungeon Master 00 about the evolution of events in Fiendfell, as well as to learn about my various experiments. These visits took place every ten years, much like the old days when we gathered at Miriandelle''s Plaza of Convergence to exchange intel. It was during one of these visits that a particular topic came up¡ªour use of the authorities. During my stay in the Voidborne Catacomb, I had been studying these authorities in depth. We all acknowledged that we had been using the available authorities incorrectly or, at the very least, underutilizing them. We possessed a total of four authorities, with Greed and Resurgence being the last ones we acquired. All four were in Dungeon Master 00¡¯s possession, kept in the safest possible place in Fiendfell. However, having them there meant that, with the exception of Greed and Resurgence and Ethereal Echo¡ªthe authority that allowed us to reincarnate repeatedly and the authority that enabled many of us to be born from a singular mind¡ªthe others were underutilized. The Authority Gathering authority was particularly wasted in Dungeon Master 00¡¯s possession. It was an authority that allowed the wielder to sense the presence of other authorities. It didn¡¯t work like a GPS; it was more like a dowsing rod that provided a general direction to locate available authorities. That is why when Dungeon Master 00 wielded it, there wasn''t much practical use¡ªit simply confirmed the existence of authority wielders out there without providing anything actionable. The idea that this authority would be more useful to any Dungeon Master other than Dungeon Master 00 wasn''t new. Dungeon Master 07, Dungeon Master 09, and I had all agreed on this for a long time. However, there were reasons why we never acted on the idea. First, reaching the Voidborne Catacomb to get the authority wasn¡¯t easy. To acquire it, we had to get it directly from Dungeon Master 00, which wasn¡¯t a simple task¡ªnot in terms of timing or strength considering the Voidborne Catacomb location. Additionally, there was a fear that the Dungeon Master wielding the authority would meet an untimely end at the hands of another authority wielder they were tracking. A Dungeon Master''s death would result in their soul being summoned back to Dungeon Master 00, but we could infer that the authority itself wouldn¡¯t be so easily recovered and could end up in the hands of an enemy. The idea of someone else wielding that particular authority was unsettling, especially for Dungeon Master 07, who always considered the worst-case scenario. For years, decades, and even centuries, the thought pf having the authority being wielded by any Dungeon Master than Dungeon Master 00 remained unacted upon. But in recent years, Dungeon Master 07¡¯s visits to the Voidborne Catacomb led him to reconsider. He eventually agreed to put the Authority Gathering to use. Though he didn¡¯t make the suggestion himself, no doubt he would have preferred to be the one to wield it. However, he understood that he was the worst candidate for the mission due to his proximity to those we absolutely wanted to keep the authorities away from¡ªthe Seraphims, allies to our late and treacherous reincarnate, Jason. As a second choice, I was considered, but my persona also posed a problem. I had enemies everywhere, and there was a significant chance the authority could end up in the hands of a certain someone as problematic as the Seraphims. Therefore, neither Dungeon Master 07 nor I were options, which is why I put forth a suggestion for whom to entrust with the mission¡ªDungeon Master 06. I could easily vouch for him; after all, I had raised him. Even if I hadn''t, I had seen the kind of person he was¡ªeccentric, yes, but steadfast and dedicated. He knew how to take care of things. To me, he was perfect for the task. Six years ago, we entrusted him with [Authority Gathering], and he took it into Fiendfell, leaving the Voidborne Catacombs for the first time in centuries. From this point onward, everything I know is from Dungeon Master 10 and Dungeon Master 13, who narrated what happened in the elven lands, where the authority led Dungeon Master 06. It was fitting, as that was the continent he was raised on. One thing he did upon taking on the task was surround himself well¡ªDungeon Master 10, who had been living in Quel''thalas for years, accompanied him, and Dungeon Master 13, along with Sharonne, was summoned from the land of the beastfolk. Together, the four of them¡ªfive, if you count Frank, Goblin''s loyal bonded creature¡ªactively searched for the mysterious authority wielder in Quel''thalas. Unsurprisingly, they found him, and what they found was nothing short of surprising. Perhaps it was confidence in their numbers or just the unexpectedness of what they found, but they chose to confront the authority wielder. They fought him. Contrary to my worst fears as Dungeon Master 10 narrated this to me, the battle went well for them. Despite the problematic nature of the power wielded by the authority wielder''s , they won easily and were able to secure the authority without slaying its wielder. They were able to "tame" him, as Dungeon Master 10 put it. So in much simpler term, that part of the story went well. What didn¡¯t go well was what happened afterward, when they were extraditing the authority wielder back to the Voidborne Catacomb. That¡¯s when everything went wrong. Out of nowhere, a Patriarch¡ªan elven monarch, the elven equivalent of an emperor for humans or a Seraphim for angels¡ªappeared, throwing everything into chaos. The encounter required the loss and sacrifice of Frank, Dungeon Master 10, and the authority wielder, along with the authority [Rule and Overrule], which allowed its wielder to infuse their will into living beings. All of this was a necessary sacrifice for Goblin, Blondie, and Bortz to barely escape alive.
The night passed in a flash, and morning came. After breakfast, as promised, I began to elaborate on my plan of action. We were gathered in the living room, where I sat in an armchair, with Dungeon Master 05 to my left, facing Goblin and Blondie on the sofa across from me.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "You''re staring too much again," I softly warned Licht. He gave me a look that seemed to ask, "What else am I supposed to do?" Understanding his point, I decided to side with him for the moment. I turned my attention to Goblin and added, "Goblin, we¡¯re talking about something serious here. What you two are doing is a bit distracting for our friend." Goblin threw a glare at Licht, then sighed. "I''m almost done, give me a moment." After a few more careful adjustments, he finished arranging Blondie''s golden hair into an elegant low bun. The sight brought a wave of nostalgia over me. Back in the early days, before Sharonne had earned the nickname "Blondie," she had been a clumsy little child. Doing her hair had been my job at first, but both Bortz and Goblin had taken over quickly, enjoying the task so much that it seemed as if they were little girls playing with a doll¡¯s hair. I didn''t mind the sight¡ªit felt natural. However, I could understand how it might be hard for an outsider like Licht to ignore. "You''re good now," Goblin said to Licht as he finished. I didn¡¯t give Licht a chance to respond. "Well then, gentlemen, let¡¯s get back to the matter at hand." The three of them nodded. "As I said, we will proceed with the plan as you all know." After evaluating the strength of the enemy we were up against to recover the lost authority, I had come to a conclusion¡ªone that I am not happy about. Despite my desire to say otherwise, I couldn¡¯t confidently claim that I could defeat that elven monarch, even if I made use of every resource available¡ªmy own strength, Dungeon Master 05''s, Dungeon Master 06''s, Dungeon Master 09''s, Blondie''s. We simply didn''t have the firepower, after all, the elven monarch was the equivalent of a Seraphim for the angels or an emperor for humans. Since we lacked the strength to take them down, we had to do something most Dungeon Masters weren''t fond of¡ªborrow firepower from others. "While White will..." I glanced at Licht. "Dungeon Master 10 will keep a close watch on our ''big fish.'' It¡¯s up to us to secure the help we need to take him down." I paused, letting my words sink in. "I¡¯ve already sent Bortz to seek help from our old friend from the Ferron Elven Family. Our rusty-haired friend will most likely be down for our plan, so long as Bortz voices my offer as well as I hope he will." "Knowing him," Goblin commented, "I have no doubt he¡¯ll be able to convince him." "I feel the same way," I said with a smile. "That¡¯s why I sent him first. I¡¯m confident he and White will carry out their mission flawlessly. It¡¯s us that will have more complications with our respective missions." I then announced what each of their tasks would be. "Goblin and Blondie, you two will go to the Aurian family and request the assistance of their Matriarch. Convince her to help us take down our ''big fish.'' She will fret about it, no doubt, since there is literally nothing for her to gain by joining our fight. However, it should be possible to change her mind by showing her what she stands to lose if she doesn¡¯t." The two of them nodded, indicating that they knew exactly what to do, much to Licht¡¯s confusion. He seemed a bit lost, but I pretended not to notice as I issued a warning. "One thing I¡¯d like you to remember¡ªwhen I say to remind her of what she stands to lose if she doesn¡¯t help us, do not make it sound like a threat. Be as reverent as needed, because you will be in the territory of a monarch. Monarchs often believe themselves to be gods, and condescension directed at them is rarely taken well." While making my point, I cast an obvious glare at Goblin. "Ma''am, what are you looking at me like that for?" he asked. "You know exactly why," I replied. Goblin frowned for a moment, clearly annoyed, but then sighed and let it go. "Ma''am, you don¡¯t have to worry. I won¡¯t do anything that will put your plan or any of us in danger," he said with conviction. "Good," I smiled, satisfied. "That¡¯s all I wanted to hear. Now, the only thing I have to worry about is my mission¡ªmine and Licht¡¯s. He and I will go request help from the Umbryan Family¡¯s Patriarch." Goblin grimaced. "That somehow makes me feel blessed to be sent where I¡¯m sent." I chuckled, understanding where he was coming from. That Patriarch, along with the one we were planning to fight, was equally tyrannical¡ªlikely because both of them had the power to boast about being the strongest around which got into their head. "We¡¯re up for a challenge, that¡¯s for sure," I said. "You sure are," Goblin responded. "You think he''s going to welcome us with open arms?" "Well, with him, I don''t even know anymore. To be frank, you should be able to make him agree to help us take down that bastard, but I''m not sure if he''ll even listen to you at first. I heard that bastard is one arrogant son of a bitch. He''s the kind to allow you an audience, have you bow to him, then completely ignore your words," Goblin said, speaking from obvious experience. "But well, you''re the one handling this after all. Perhaps it will go well for you." I contemplated for a moment. Bortz was directly involved in the incident and had seen firsthand the danger that our problematic patriarch represented to other elves. He had all the arguments to convince the Ferrum elves'' patriarch to join us. The same went for Goblin and Blondie. They were directly involved in the matter, and Goblin, being an elf, had a clear reason for the Matriarch to want to see that problematic patriarch defeated. It all made sense. But in our case, not so much. I was a Highbreed, and Dungeon Master 05 was a Verdenkind. We are obviously not going to mention the authority, so from an elven perspective we--human as we were---really have no business with this matter¡ªit was an elven affair, through and through. I did have a good excuse, but it wasn''t the kind of excuse that would work well as an opening move. It was more of a coup de grace rather than an opening move. "What do you think?" Goblin asked, noticing my musing. "Want to wait until Blondie and I are done convincing the Matriarch before you join in? Or..." "Do you freally want to deal with him?" I asked with a smirk. "Hell no." "Then we''ll do as I said. You handle your part, and I''ll handle my part. Though I suppose you make a point¡ªI''ve thought about it, we need something that will be an excuse for our interest in seeing that bastard taken down. Well, I''m saying ''something,'' but it''s more like someone." "Someone?" Goblin repeated. It took him a moment, but then realization struck. "Don''t tell me you''re thinking about her." B2. Chapter 11: Blondie "You''re sure you want to use that swamp witch?" Goblin asked, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty. With Blondie walking beside me, her cane in hand, toward Veilleuse-19¡ªthe massive red wyvern lying low in the garden¡ªGoblin followed behind, along with Dungeon Master 05. "This is a bad idea," Goblin said. "How so?" I asked calmly. "How so?" He strangely echoed remaining silent for a moment before finally voicing his thoughts, "She''s going to be trouble." "You''re sure that''s the real reason?" I gave him a teasing, inquisitive glance. "She''s... she''s only brought trouble so far," Goblin responded, meeting my gaze briefly before looking away. "That was because she was curious about her assailant. Isn''t that a very understandable reaction? In fact, we''re the last people with the right to complain since we used the poor girl as bait." "Still..." Goblin seethed, his expression one of frustration. I chuckled. "Come on, give me your real reason¡ªor better, give me a pertinent excuse as to why I shouldn''t use her." Sulking, Goblin muttered, "Would it be pertinent enough if I said that White wouldn''t like the idea of you using her again?" I sneered. "Not enough," I said. "She might have saved his life once, but he doesn''t owe her anything anymore. And even if he still did, that''s between him and her. As for me, maybe I still feel like I owe her an apology for using her as bait, but that''s not stopping me from using her again." Goblin sighed in annoyance. "You know what? Do whatever you want." "That''s what I was planning to do," I said, walking up to Veilleuse-19 and patting its scales before climbing onto its back. I helped Blondie up as well, deciding to bring her along. Watching as Dungeon Master 05 seemed intent on following, I asked, "You''re coming too?" "Is there a reason for me not to come?" He paused, one foot on Veilleuse-19''s side. "Well, I was thinking this would be a small excursion between girls. With you tagging along, that would ruin everything." Dungeon Master 05 put on one of those faces¡ªa look akin to a child being denied something. I thought, What are you, a child who''s been denied something? Because that''s exactly what he looked like. I offered an alternative, "How about instead you have Goblin show you the village? Spend some time between boys, and... stuff." At that moment, the two of them looked at each other, sizing each other up for a moment before Goblin said, "You heard the lady. I''ll get changed, then I''ll show you the village." As I watched Goblin make his way back to the mansion, I had Veilleuse-19 take off into the sky. Dungeon Master 05 looked up at me, his expression resembling that of a child being dropped off at school.
Flying up there, I couldn''t help but take in the sight of the girl standing beside me. Her hair, styled by Goblin earlier, remained untouched by the wind. Almost immediately after taking off, she activated a barrier. The me from my early days would have frowned at the sight of a skill being used in such a manner. But I was no longer that child. I also knew that, for Blondie, the MP expense was nothing, especially considering how convenient and useful it was for reasons other than merely protecting her hair. For her, with her limited vision, she had established a certain balance that she always required, and the barrier she erected protected us both from the wind without totally sealing us in a vacuum. In fact, I found it kind of genius. When I first rode Veilleuse-19, I faced similar challenges¡ªweather conditions and the physical strain caused by thinner air. Back then, I was already quite durable despite being only a Hexcaster, so I faced those challenges head-on and adapted. Blondie, well, she didn''t have the same resistance, so she found a way around it. Finding ways around things¡ªthat was her little specialty since her very young days. If it weren''t, she definitely wouldn''t have made it this far. Sensing my gaze on her, she turned toward me. "Ma''am?" "Nothing," I smiled at her reassuringly. Considering her condition, one might assume that the cane she held was for assistance with locomotion, but that couldn''t be further from the truth. The cane served another purpose. It was a magical enhancer, akin to my staff of importance. Its whole purpose was to improve the manifestation of magic. And, of course, much like my staff, it came with its set of elemental affinities¡ªones that made it clear there was no better wielder for the cane than her.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "Is it still holding up, or is it slowing you down now?" She lifted the cane to show it to me. It was an elegant piece¡ªits shaft polished to a deep, obsidian shine that caught the light with each movement. Topping it was a golden knob, intricately carved with the visage of a noble eagle, its feathers detailed as if in mid-flight. Identification: Typha?ne [Status] Name: Typha?ne Object: M.C Amplifier and M.P-storing Staff Stored M.P: 1842 M.P (77% of total capacity used) Material: Paprite, Unmeltable Iron, Manacyte Core Gemstone: Refined Manacyte (+9,500 years) Origin: Eldoria Age: 823 years Creator: Master Enchanter Alaric Owner: Blondie Condition: Good, with minor signs of wear [Special Attributes] Infused Abilities: - Elemental Affinity: Shows a strong affinity with air, lightning, and water-based magic, enhancing control and potency. Infused Skills: - Magic Amplification: Enhances the potency of spells cast through it by 0.35, making magic circles manifest with greater precision. - Mana Storage: Can store up to 75% of the wielder''s available M.P, up to a maximum of 2400 M.P. [Recommended Use] Best suited for mages specializing in water, lightning, and air-based magic or those seeking to enhance their magic weaving precision. [Collapse] "It''s almost as pristine as when you first got it," I said, praising the care with which the hundred-year-old artifact had been kept in her hands. "And it''s still as useful as when you gave it to me," she replied. "I''m glad for that," I said, tempted to repeat something I''d done when gifting her the wand but ultimately deciding against it. "I couldn''t help but notice¡ªits name still hasn''t changed. Did you rename it, or did you just not try?" For people who aren''t Dungeon Masters, names¡ªthe ones recognized by the system¡ªaren''t something you can change easily. Just as with people¡¯s names, changing an artifact''s name takes time, effort, and belief. For well-known artifacts like this one, changing its name is a daunting task. Still, she''d had decades¡ªcenturies even¡ªto do it, so it wasn''t unreasonable to expect the artifact to go by another name by now. Blondie shook her head. "I haven''t renamed it. I think the name Typha?ne fits it well." "I see," I nodded, mumbling in a low voice, "I guess you wouldn''t be the first one to think that." Blondie tilted her head. "What is it?" "It''s nothing," I replied. Then, a question I''d been curious about since she and Dungeon Master 05 met. "What do you think of Licht?" She remained silent for a moment before answering. "He reminds me of Luci." I frowned a little, trying to figure out what part of Licht could have reminded her of Dungeon Master 03. I raised her, but I technically raised five Dungeon Masters¡ªDungeon Master 09, Dungeon Master 03, Dungeon Master 06, Dungeon Master 13, and finally Dungeon Master 10, who joined some years after Blondie. They had names of their own, but those were used mostly for official matters. For the most part, they went by their nicknames: White for Dungeon Master 09, Luci for Dungeon Master 03, Goblin for Dungeon Master 06, Bortz for Dungeon Master 13, and "Charlie"¡ªa common half-elven slur¡ªfor Dungeon Master 10. Luci stood out compared to the others with his seriousness. I supposed it was a quality that Dungeon Master 05 shared, though I¡¯d say it was two different types of seriousness. Luci¡¯s was the protective, supporting, big-brother type¡ªthe kind that put up with whatever you did while trying to fix the mess without much complaint. Licht, on the other hand, was serious in a tense, apprehensive, even complaining way¡ªand I knew very well who was to blame for that. ...Wait. As I thought, I came to realize something. Blondie might be right¡ªthey did look alike in that aspect. It was just that, unlike Luci, who put up with what I did without complaint, Licht didn¡¯t. But surely he would have if it were Dungeon Master 07 instead of me. He was apprehensive in the first place because of my reputation. Perhaps, if I¡¯d presented myself differently, he would have reacted just like Luci had back then. Adjusting my assessment, I admitted, "I guess you¡¯re right. They do look alike." In that moment, Blondie spoke with a nostalgic tone. "I wish he were here." I repressed a grimace. If it weren¡¯t for the fact that he was already on a mission of equal importance to Goblin¡¯s, I would have chosen him over Goblin. Not that Goblin was inept, but out of the two, Luci was the one you''d be tempted to trust with your eyes closed. Unfortunately, he was already busy, and I knew for a fact that he would hate not being summoned here. "Unfortunately, he can''t be here," I said. "I know," Blondie replied, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. "But I still wish he were. If he were, we would all be together like before," she said with a clearly nostalgic smile, before slowly returning to reality. "But without Charlie and Frank..." Unlike earlier, I hesitated because she was now... well, grown and freshly groomed. I reached out to pat her head as I did when she was no taller than a goblin. "It''s alright. You and the others did your best¡ªthere is nothing to feel bad about here. Come on, you literally managed to escape from a monarch. Those aren''t just anyone, and I know what I''m talking about¡ªI¡¯ve been avoiding one because I can''t fathom how to properly win against him. You guys managed to escape from a monarch, and better yet, you actually managed to land such a blow on one. There is nothing to be sad about here. Sure, their absence is not something to rejoice over, but they died so that all of you could be here. So the least we can do for them is bring them justice. That''s what I intend to do¡ªthat''s what we intend to do," I said, cheering the girl up. Then, with a bigger smile, if not an outright mischievous smirk, I added, "And if we''re lucky, we might get a little more than justice out of this." B2. Chapter 12: Aquaflora After flying Veilleuse-19 for a while, following the direction given by Blondie, I felt a certain magical fluctuation that I was familiar with, as I''d sensed it during our first flight above the elven village. We had arrived at our destination, a place north of the small elven village we flew by on the day of our arrival. On horseback, it would have taken roughly half a day, but for Veilleuse-19, it was a leisurely flight of just about a dozen minutes. The spot we flew above was, much like anywhere in the vicinity, a verdant corner of forest with tall and green trees. However, I was certain, just like Blondie, that this was the place. With no space for a massive wyvern like Veilleuse-19 to land, we resorted to simply jumping off into the dense canopy below. Blondie activated a skill that allowed her to float her way down, while I simply allowed gravity to do its thing, bringing me below the canopy in less than a second. Only as I approached the ground did I activate a skill that froze the wet, boggy ground beneath me solid, as the terrain was truly boggy in every sense. Ahead, nestled on a knoll above the murky bog, stood a house. The house seemed to lean with age, as if it had been there longer than the trees themselves. Its crooked roof sagged under the weight of years, the dark shingles mottled and curling like scales on a sleeping beast. Ivy and moss clung to the rough, weathered walls, blending it into the forest around it, as though nature itself was reluctant to let go of this old, mysterious place. With shuttered windows that peeked out like narrowed eyes and a door darkened by time, the house radiated a aura of witchcraft¡ªone that couldn''t help but make me think of what Goblin had called the owner of this house: "Swamp Witch." I could guess that the nickname was mostly made up because of the girl''s class, but seeing this place, I found yet another reason to justify the nickname Goblin had given her. It stereotypically looked like the house of a swamp witch. Freezing the wet ground beneath me, refusing to stain myself with mud, Blondie and I floated over it as we made our way toward the witch-like house. It was only when we reached the doorstep that Blondie activated another skill, announcing, "She''s not here." She paused, activating a more advanced skill. "And she''s also nowhere nearby, at least not within a ten-kilometer radius." "Don''t worry about that. She''ll be here soon," I replied calmly. I wasn''t surprised by Blondie''s announcement. In fact, from the moment I sensed a certain magical imprint through [Mana Resonance] up above, I knew the one we came to see wasn''t here. The imprint I sensed was the same I had felt when approaching the village; if I had to guess, it was a stave set up by her. Most likely, it existed to inform her that her perimeter had been breached. Whether the stave was sophisticated enough to identify who had breached it, I couldn''t tell, but if I had to make an educated guess, I''d say it merely informed her that the perimeter had been invaded. That day, when we approached the village, she had flown up into the sky with a clear intent to fight, most likely because she thought Veilleuse-19 was some rabid monster. I couldn''t say whether that was bravery or stupidity but well... After waiting for about three minutes, Blondie declared, "Someone entered the perimeter... it''s her." I nodded in satisfaction, and after an additional three minutes, she arrived from the east, flying as she had the other day¡ªatop her broom. She was dressed in a dark, neatly cut coat edged with subtle red embroidery that fluttered against the wind of her flight. The coat, open at the front, revealed a stark contrast with her deep black shorts, tailored closely to her form. Her legs were clad in dark, thigh-high socks that vanished into a pair of sturdy boots, fitting well for the muddy environment. Draped around her neck, pale and intricate as if carved from moonlight, was a unique creature¡ªa subspecies of loong, a dragonoid that had its long and small body coiled gracefully around her like a scarf, its head resting gently on her shoulder, it staring threateningly at us, but quite failed to convey it was trying to. As she stabilized on her broom, coming to a halt, the girl mumbled, "You..." The girl was the one I came to see here: Aquaflora. To tell the truth, at her sight, I couldn''t help but sigh internally. Goblin had been right¡ªshe was partly the cause of the deviation in our initial plan to bait Alexander. Instead, sensing his arrival at the village, she had confronted him, which was literally the equivalent of throwing herself into the wolf''s mouth, leaving Goblin and the others with no choice but to intervene. No matter how I looked at it, it was the same thing happening here. From the look of surprise and apprehension on her face as she came to a halt, she hadn''t expected us to be invaders to be in her little place, and yet here she was, rushing to confront them. Do you ever learn? I lamented internally, but kept that thought to myself. "Greetings, Miss Aquaflora," I said with a large smile, to which the girl only responded with a frown as she slowly descended to the ground. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she finally reached the ground. "Sharrone and I were just flying around when I heard from her that you were living around here," I said, lying effortlessly. "So I thought, why not visit?" "Why not..." Aquaflora echoed, eying us with a look that made it clear she didn''t believe a word I said, but that was fine by me. "Didn''t you say last time that you didn''t want to see my face?" "Did I ever say something like that?" I asked, taking on an confused and slightly offended expression. "As far as I can remember, all I said was that we weren''t enemies and that we should keep it that way. That''s all I said. At no point did I say that I wouldn''t want us to ever cross paths again." It was clear that "Miss" Aquaflora wanted to refute my words, but she found nothing. Instead, she went on to add, "Even so, you threatened me¡ªyou and her," she said, pointing at Blondie, who stood beside me, bearing an innocent smile. "You hurt Ch¨¢ng Mi¨¤n." Who was Ch¨¢ng Mi¨¤n? It wasn''t hard to guess that it referred to the white, slightly iridescent loong on her shoulder that hissed at us¡ªnot boldly, but rather cowardly. My gaze landing on it immediately made it shudder and recoil in a way that broke eye contact.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Chuckling, I added, "Even so, Miss Aquaflora, I''m sure you know that we mean you no harm, otherwise you wouldn''t have come here to meet us. Deep down, you know that we really don''t. So why not drop all this pretense and invite us" ¡ªI cast a glance at the house behind us¡ª "into your humble abode?" From the outside, with its leaning walls, jagged roof, and eerie bog as a backdrop, I had expected a home to match¡ªa dark, cluttered space filled with shadows and strange trinkets, something truly fitting for a witch in the depths of the forest. But upon being welcomed in, I was greeted by a cozy, inviting room that felt unexpectedly warm and grounded, as though it belonged in a storybook more than a secluded witch''s abode. The stone-tiled floor was clean and sturdy, worn smooth by years of careful upkeep. Patches of sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting a soft, warm glow over the quaint furniture. There were two plush leather armchairs near a small coffee table adorned with a delicate mosaic pattern, and a sturdy, well-worn wooden table with matching chairs placed nearby. Potted plants dotted the room, adding a subtle touch of greenery that contrasted with the wildness of the forest outside. The overall setup seemed modest yet dignified, with signs of age everywhere¡ªthe faded upholstery, the slightly warped wood, the faint scent of earth and herbs hanging in the air. It was clear, though, that this place was old. A careful eye would immediately notice the patches in the ceiling, the newer nails in the beams, the way certain parts of the walls looked freshly plastered and reinforced. From what I heard from Bortz¡¯s report, this cottage had been abandoned not so long ago. But after Aquaflora settled around these parts of the elven continent, she chose this place as her new home, breathing life back into the structure with renovations and small touches that transformed it into the cozy space it was now. Surveying it all, I couldn¡¯t help but think that I could see myself holing up here. My gaze shifted to Blondie, who sat across from me, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as we both took in the unexpectedly charming space. "Nice place you got here," I remarked, settling into one of the two wooden chairs at the round table. "Thanks, but I''m sure it''s nothing compared to the manor you all settled into, or anything you must be used to," Aquaflora replied, her voice tinged with sarcasm that made it clear it wasn''t quite sincere. "Indeed," I responded, taking a sip of what was clearly not tea, though it wasn''t bad per se. Once I was done sipping, Aquaflora, growing impatient, asked, "So what are you doing here?" "Didn''t I tell you earlier already? I came to make peace. Last time, we parted on rather awkward terms, so I came to fix that." She didn''t look convinced, and she made it clear when she added, "Why do I feel there''s more to it?" Smiling, I replied, "Perhaps because there''s actually a little more to it." Putting the cup down and leaning forward, I added in a very serious tone, "I need your help with something." Noticing my change in tone, her expression changed too. Curious, she asked, "My help with what?" "It''s something that, just like me, I''m sure you think ought to be dealt with," I teased before elaborating. "I''m, of course, talking about the patriarch of the Sylvan elven family." At these words, Aquaflora underwent a visible change¡ªeven her ears twitched and shifted angle, as though they were reacting to the weight of my words. Her reaction surprised me somewhat, as I hadn''t expected such a strong response. However, I was expecting a reaction. After all, she had her history with that patriarch¡ªthe very same one who currently held the authority that I was here to retrieve. In fact, he was the reason she moved to this corner of the world after initially holed up further north east, closer to where her elven family usually resides. "What do you mean by ''dealt with''?" she asked with a concerned frown. "Exactly what I said: dealt with. Or perhaps ''put down'' is a term that will help you understand my point." Aquaflora looked at me as though I wasn''t making sense, so to ensure my point came across, I added, "I heard about your story from one of my associates. You were one of his earliest victims, if we may say so. You know what danger he represents, and you better than anyone should know of the threat he poses to every living elves of this continent." After acquiring the authority from Goblin and the others, the patriarch entered a frenzied state that unleashed a rampage. The form of the rampage was unique; through the newly controlled authority, it seemed that the authority had taken over the patriarch''s will. He gathered a horde of monsters under his control, forming a force that rampaged over the land¡ªall while bringing them under his control. To put it simply, the patriarch had gone mad. The current will driving him was that of the authority, urging him to increase the number of monsters under his control. Ironically, it was likely the same drive that had pushed me forward in my dungeon master days¡ªthe need to harvest more G.P. "From the latest intel I received," I continued, "he and his stampede are still only active in the Argyrian Family territory, but they are slowly drifting westward toward the Umbryan Family''s lands. The strength of the monsters under his control is swelling by the minute. He has grown significantly stronger since the last time you crossed paths with him, which is why he must be stopped before he becomes too strong. You''ve seen it with your own two eyes; I''ll let you imagine what will happen to everything in his path." After a pause to digest all that information, Aquaflora asked, "What exactly... What do you expect me to do?" Casting a glance around the room, I replied, "It was a difficult decision for me to come here and ask for your help when you''ve done your best to reestablish yourself in this peaceful corner of the world, but I need your help. The one we''re up against is a patriarch¡ªan elven monarch. As much as I would love to say I could defeat him myself, I can''t. That''s why I''ll have to borrow the strength of other elven monarchs to help." Aquaflora seemed to slowly understand where I was going, so I continued, "I''ve already sent some of my associates to request help from the patriarch of the Ferron Family. Sharrone here and Lee will be heading to the Aurian Family''s territory to request the assistance of their matriarch, and I, along with Licht¡ªthe red-haired young man from the other day¡ªplan to request the help of the Umbryan Family''s patriarch." Glancing at her, I added, "That''s where I need your help. I''m sure you can guess what it is." "You want me to come with you to convince the Noctil elves," Aquaflora said in an apprehensive tone. "Exactly," I nodded. In that moment, she chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I don''t think I''ll be the help you hope I''d be." "What do you mean?" "I''ve tried convincing elves of my own family, and they didn''t care for my words," she said bitterly. "I doubt I can convince elves of another family to do anything¡ªand even less so a patriarch." "I''ve heard about that," I said. "But I think you''re misunderstanding something here. I''m not asking you to convince the Noctil elves'' patriarch on your own. I''m asking you to be our voice." Deciding to lay it out frankly, I added, "No matter how you look at it, Licht and I are very much outsiders to this conflict. In appearance, we have no reason to take part in it because we are... we''re humans." "And I''m an elf, and as such, I should have an easier time bargaining with another elf¡ªis that it?" "I know you elves have these prejudices against one another that my Highbreed mind can''t process, but yes, that''s it." Unlike I expected, she didn''t seem offended by that last remark, but she nonetheless sank into a silence that seemed positive for what I was here for, judging from the look of it. It was after some moments of silence that she asked, "You mentioned earlier that you have a reason to take part in this conflict. What is it?" Up to this point, I had been honest with her about everything, but this one question was one I couldn''t answer with full honesty. I couldn''t tell her I was here to recover an authority¡ªthe very authority behind the patriarch''s madness. However, there was something I could confess. "That patriarch is responsible for the loss of "things" that were very dear to me and to people who are dear to me. So I made myself the promise to bring justice for their losses¡ªfor everyone, including myself." Aquaflora pondered my answer for another moment before asking cautiously, "Is that really all the reason?" "Yes," I responded with conviction before asking, "So, will you come with us or stay here in your peaceful little corner of the world? I wouldn''t blame you for staying, but I need your answer now. What will it be?" B2. Chapter 13: Mistwood Arbor After receiving Aquaflora''s answer, Blondie and I, having found no better reason to linger, took our leave from her place as we''d come, on Veilleuse-19. We pondered what to do next and settled on visiting the village, something we hadn''t yet found the time to do since my arrival. Blondie mentioned she had things to take care of there, so we headed toward the village. After flying for about ten minutes, we approached Mistwood Arbor. This time, I was careful not to make the same mistake I had before with Veilleuse-19; I didn''t want to cause the same frenzy as the first time. A couple of kilometers away, we dismounted the red wyvern and proceeded toward the village without causing much of a stir. As always, the first thing that caught my eye when entering Mistwood Arbor was the intricate network of treehouses perched high among the colossal trunks of ancient trees. The houses were built directly into the living wood, with branches and leaves intertwining with the structures in a seamless blend. The village''s houses boasted two types of designs. The most common ones featured steeply pitched roofs covered in blue, green, or clay-colored shingles. Then there were other, less pleasant-looking ones with thatched roofs. Looking up, I could see walkways made of wood connecting these treehouses, forming a dizzying maze of paths above. Some walkways were fitted with railings, while others were mere planks of wood. Below these elevated abodes, the lower tier of the village spread out across the forest floor. Here, the homes were more grounded, built with entirely thatched roofs that curved upwards at the edges. These ground houses were smaller and less intricate than their aerial counterparts, dotting the landscape sparingly. Most of the land below was used for activities like agriculture. Small patches of cultivated land showed neat rows of crops and enclosures to restrain cattle of all sorts. At the sight of the village, I was tempted to think it was the same as when I last visited, but an image conjured from memory immediately dispelled that nostalgic yet inaccurate thought¡ªthe village had changed. The last time I was here, there were fewer bridges, fewer thatched-roof houses hanging in the trees¡ªin fact, there were none. Mistwood Arbor was a strange place, in the middle of nowhere. It wasn''t particularly close to any of the prominent elven "capitals". Even if it had been, the relationship between an elven village like this and the rest of the "kingdom" was complicated. Villages like this didn''t belong to any elven family but were cut off from the world. Despite that, Mistwood Arbor had partly taken strong architectural inspiration from the elves of the Umbryan Family¡ªthus, the steeply pitched roofs covered in colorful shingles¡ªwhile also borrowing elements from the Aurian Family for their houses built alongside the tree trunks. The new thatched-roof houses weren''t typical. Previously, they could only be found on the ground floor. Now, not only were there more of them, but they were also found among the colored-shingled houses in the trees. I also noticed a significant change in the population. The village''s creators and inhabitants were mostly descendants of the Aurian and Umbryan Families, making the villagers predominantly Solvan or Noctils elves. In other words, they were either golden-haired or black-haired elves. Occasionally, there were a few half-elven---"Charlies" among them, but for the most part, villagers fell into the latter or former category, which is why Goblin, with his silver hair, had always stood out. It seems he won''t anymore. A large portion of the elves now had silver hair, making it impossible to miss. "Are those the elves Bortz mentioned saving?" I asked Blondie. She nodded. Just as I thought. The silver hair was a dead giveaway that these elves were of Argyrian descent¡ªthe ones Dungeon Master 13 had saved along with Goblin after escaping for their lives. They had initially lived in a village very much like this one, but their village had been caught in the path of the current authority wielder''s maddened rampage. Aquaflora had lived near that village, which was why she helped relocate them here when she also moved to this corner of the world.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Those are most of them," Blondie explained. "Over the past month, some of the native villagers have expressed annoyance over the influx of Lunor Elves refugees... You know how elves are with each other, even among the excommunicated." "Oh... How''s that going?" "Well, the complaints were quelled¡ªpartly because of Miss Aquaflora, who acted as a mediator, and partly because of... Lee." "What did he do?" I asked, though I had a good guess. "Did he threaten them into silence?" She chuckled. "You know him well. He threatened both sides into silence. Though I have to admit, I had the feeling that deep down, he would''ve preferred to side with the native villagers in this case." Hearing this, it almost sounded like a confession¡ªor maybe a rat-out. Blondie wasn''t one to do that unless she was really concerned, especially about Goblin. Goblin had spent most of his elven existence in this corner of the world, and he was very familiar with this village. He had seen it grow and even taken part in helping it thrive, even though he''d removed himself from it in the recent century. It wasn''t unreasonable to expect him to have some degree of fondness for this place. Hearing what Blondie said, it was easy to think that concern stemmed from Goblin''s attachment to the village. But what she''d hinted at was that his desire to side against the refugees had deeper roots¡ªmost likely the bitterness he held toward them, or rather their family''s patriarch, who had a direct hand in causing the deaths of Charlie and Frank his beloved bonded creature. I looked at Blondie and asked, "How''s he holding up after everything that happened?" Blondie hesitated but then confessed, "He''s fine, especially since you''ve been back. He was really down after everything, but since you''ve returned, he''s recovered his spirit. Though when it comes to elves of Argyrian descent, he''s still a bit..." "Hateful?" I proposed. "Bitter at the sight of them, but he''s holding it together," Blondie reassured. "I see," I nodded before adding, "I''ll keep that in mind." At these words, Blondie''s expression morphed into one of distress, audible in her voice as she asked, "I didn''t bring trouble on him by saying that, did I?" I chuckled, then reassured her, "Don''t worry, you didn''t. What you said will likely help me figure out a way to soothe his heart. You may have actually helped him, so no need to worry," I said, patting her on the head. Hearing this, she exhaled and relaxed. Despite hosting over hundreds native elves and even more inhabitants when including the refugees, the village wasn''t all that large. It was small, with the houses hanging from the tree trunks distributing the village''s living space vertically rather than horizontally. Unsurprisingly, we soon stumbled upon Licht and Goblin, who immediately rushed over upon noticing us. "How did it go?" Goblin asked, apprehension on his face. "We have a new person on board," I announced teasingly. Hearing this, Goblin let out an exaggerated sigh of annoyance. "Tch, I''m going to go drown my disappointment in some disgusting mead," he declared, pointing toward a corner of the village before promptly leaving. He clearly didn''t want Aquaflora joining us. Blondie and I exchanged glances before she declared, "I''m going to get him. We''ll go find some lunch and gather what we need for the journey ahead." "And Licht and I will do a little bit of tourism," I said. As Goblin and Blondie disappeared around a corner, Dungeon Master 05 asked, "What''s the deal with him?" "With Goblin?" I asked, curious as to what prompted the question. "Yes. Is he... is he racist toward elves?" He asked with concern. Well, you two really got to know each other. Chuckling, I replied, "I wouldn''t say he''s racist. He just hates a certain kind of elf." "How is that not racism?" "He doesn''t discriminate... yet," I said, though given what I''d just heard from Blondie, he might be a few steps away from it¡ªif he wasn''t there already. "I see..." After a moment of silence, he suddenly asked, "Are they... Are those two together?" It took me a couple of seconds to register what he''d just said. Once I did, I promptly answered, "No." "But they''re always snuggling each other." "I like snuggling, too¡ªthat doesn''t mean anything," I said teasingly, pulling him into a bear hug. "That''s not what I meant," he whined, wrestling to break free, which he did only after I let him go. "Well," I said, "even if that''s not what you meant, my point still stands. They''re not together, not like that." Then, with a teasing grin, I added, "Even though Blondie is everything he could dream of. She''s not an elf, she''s strong, and she''s blonde¡ªand we all know that we Dungeon Masters once dreamed of that perfect blonde girlfriend." He eyed me with a reprimanding look but simply replied, "I see," which made me wonder what was going through his head. Whatever it was, I hoped he didn''t think that just because she and Goblin weren''t together, he had a shot¡ªbecause he''d be in for a big disappointment. B2. Chapter 14: Parting Ways I was sitting by the mansion veranda, rocking on a chair with a glass of wine in one hand, and several empty bottles nearby, stargazing at the star-filled sky. To such a sight, I couldn''t help but think how much I''d missed it. Having spent the past fifty years in the Voidborn Catacombs, it had been ages since I had gotten to enjoy a sky like this, and I found myself savoring the moment. It wasn''t half bad¡ªin fact, it was quite pleasant. It was there, rocking on my chair, lost somewhere between deep thoughts and the comfort of nothingness, that I noticed Goblin coming out the door and joining me on the veranda. "Not sleeping yet?" I asked, glancing at him. "Nope," he responded, closing in to take a seat on another rocking chair next to me. "You''re sure you can afford to slack on sleep?" I asked, more to tease him than out of actual concern, as I took another sip from my glass before handing it to him. He accepted it without hesitation. "Yes, I managed to acquire [Exhaustion Resistance]¡ªthe ability, not the skill¡ªthirteen years ago," he said, pouring himself some wine. "That''s the sub-par version then..." "Yes, but it''s strong enough that I hardly need to sleep," Goblin announced before gulping down the wine. "Is that so..." I said with a small chuckle. Goblin eyed me. "And you? You''re sure you can afford to drink right now?" I shrugged nonchalantly. "I maxed out my resistance to poison¡ªI can''t get drunk unless I really want to." It was true. While I could still get drunk, I never actually did¡ªnever found an excuse to let myself go like that. I drank mostly for the taste. Sure, drinks like wine didn¡¯t particularly taste good if you were just after flavor, but after living for hundreds of years, when water became unbearably boring, mead, wine, and all sorts of drinks that weren''t just water started to have their own distinct charm. "I see," Goblin muttered, sipping in silence. After a moment, he commented, attempting to strike up a conversation, "So, we''re leaving tomorrow, huh?" "Yep. Tomorrow you and Blondie fly to the Aurian Family''s territory to meet their matriarch, while I, Licht, and Aquaflora will fly to meet the Umbryan Family''s patriarch," I responded, before asking, "Anything to comment about?" "Nope," he shook his head. I raised an eyebrow. "You''re sure? Not a comment, a complaint, or anything?" "Yes, I''m sure," he insisted. "Besides, even if I had ¡°a¡± complaint, would you even listen to it?" Pretending to be offended, I said, "What did I ever do to earn such an image in your heart? Here I was thinking I came across as an open-minded leader." He let out a small chuckle. "I don''t have any complaints, really. I had one, but I can see the logic in why you want her involved. She''s here, so we might as well make use of her." He added, "Besides, I''m not the one dealing with her, so what''s there for me to complain about?" Sensing that after that discussion he wanted to change the subject, I complied, although I still had things I wanted to discuss. "We''re not going to see each other for some time after tomorrow. Are you sure there''s nothing you want to confess to me? We haven''t really talked about what happened yet, just the two of us." "Something to confess about..." he mumbled, pondering the question seriously, before ultimately announcing, "I don''t think there''s anything about what happened that I would confess that you wouldn''t already have heard from Char¡ªDungeon Master 10¡ªwhen he spawned by Dungeon Master 00''s side." I poured myself another glass of wine. "You¡¯re right. I heard what happened from him, and the aftermath from Dungeon Master 13. Now I''m eager to hear your opinion of it all. In fact, it doesn''t even have to be an opinion¡ªanything will do fine by me." "Anything, huh?" He sank into an introspective silence before saying, "Now that I think of it, I have something I have been thinking for a while now, and I''d like to hear what you think about it. You know why we spared the authority wielder instead of getting the authority the old way, right?" I nodded. The "old way" was the one we''d used to acquire authority so far, with the exception of [Greed and Resurgence], which we obtained from a willing wielder. The old and usual method to acquire an authority was to kill the wielder, which caused the authority to fall into the ¡°slayer¡± possession. Given how many of our fellow reincarnates had turned their back to our duty toward our savior, when giving him that mission to use [Authority Gathering] to find other authorities, I strongly advised Goblin not to hold back against any reincarnate displaying signs of antagonism.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Yet, despite the authority wielder they found antagonizing them, they didn''t slay him outright as I¡¯ve prescribed, even though they could have. The authority wielder was a level-30ish Verdenkind, with stats all over the place and a very fragmented mental state. But unarguably, the reason for which they really spared him was his age. The authority wielder was a literal child¡ªnot just some random soul from another world inhabiting a child''s body, but an actual child, both in mind and spirit. After restraining and eventually ¡°taming¡± the authority wielderas Dungeon Master 10 described it, they began investigating what exactly was wrong with the young authority wielder. Goblin, with Charlie''s talents, learned that the child carried memories of a different world¡ªa harsh and primitive one¡ªwhere she met an unfortunate end at a very young age. Before she could get to commit anything that would have earned her a spot in that terrible place and yet there she was, lost and tormented in that place we once were. "You know," I said, "at first, when I heard that from Dungeon Master 10, I chuckled at the idea. But then, as I thought more about it... it''s really tragic. It even makes me pity everyone." The thought of having people I hated¡ªsuch as our very employer who betrayed us and killed us¡ªsuffering in that place was one I originally found satisfying. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how messed up it was, for those that one could say didn¡¯t deserve to be sent there, such as that kid. the place''s true nature¡ªa place of torment, and not just for villains. "So, I''ve been wondering¡ªsince he was once an unarguably innocent child, do you think that place isn''t just for people like the one we were, but for all dead souls altogether?" "That''s a reflection I''ve made myself too," I admit bitterly. "I was thinking the same thing," Goblin said, this time grabbing the bottle and drinking straight from it. "Do you know what else I thought about?" "Do tell," I replied, already suspecting what he was about to say. "If that place is where all souls from other worlds go after death, could it be that it''s also where all souls from this world end up?" Called it. I took a deep breath before announcing, "Then in that case, it''s more than a pity¡ªit''s a tragedy."
Morning came quickly. After a final breakfast together, Goblin, Dungeon Master 05, Blondie, and I made our way out of the mansion, closing it up as it would be left unattended for some time. Waiting outside was Veilleuse-19, standing beside a gigantic crow-like creature¡ªa Caarghast, a high-level shadow-attribute animalist monster and one of Goblin''s bonded beasts, who would serve as his and Blondie''s steed for the journey. Beside the two creatures stood Aquaflora, who had agreed to join us. "Good morning, Miss Aquaflora," I smiled. "Good morning," Aquaflora replied, casting a cool, almost antagonistic glance at Goblin and Blondie. Pretending not to notice, I added, "You''re looking particularly sharp today," noting her outfit¡ªa long, snow-colored coat trimmed with fur, paired with fitted pants and sturdy black boots. Aquaflora responded with a flat gaze, making it clear she wasn''t taking the comment as a compliment. I simply shrugged and turned my attention to Goblin and Blondie. "So this is it, huh?" I said, moving in front of Goblin. "Yep, this is it." Towering over Blondie, Goblin wore a dark, military-style coat. In his gloved hand, he held an ushanka hat. I took the hat from his hand and put it on his head. "We''re parting ways again from here on out, so be safe out there." He nodded. I was about to move on to Blondie when I remembered our conversation the previous night. "Be extra careful out there, especially with Blondie. Remember our talk from yesterday?" He nodded broodingly, casting a glance at Blondie, who looked curious about what we had discussed. Goblin added resolutely, "I will be." "If anything seems to spiral out of control, contact me. Notify White. Bail out if you have to¡ªdo not hesitate." "Understood, Ma''am," he declared resolutely. I nodded, then moved on to Blondie. She was dressed warmly in a blue coat, her hat and scarf matching the same color, and white gloves and earrings completing her outfit. I reached for Blondie''s visor and placed it on her face. "You heard what I told Goblin¡ªbe careful out there." "Yes," Blondie eagerly nodded. "Good girl," I said, smiling. "Now, I have another mission for you. You just heard the heavy responsibility I laid on Goblin. He will not admit the weight, but it will burden him, so Imma need you to keep an eye on him." I glanced at Goblin, whose face showed a pretend indifference. "Can you do that?" "Count on me, Ma''am." "Oh, I am. Now have a safe journey, you two." "You too, Ma''am," Blondie said, embracing me, and I gave it back. After pulling away, Blondie went to bid farewell to Licht, taking him by surprise as she hugged him. A little bird entrusted to him by Goblin in hand he awkwardly accepted it. She then turned to Aquaflora, who recoiled apprehensively. Before Blondie could try anything else, Goblin, already on the Caarghast, called out, "Ignore her, Blondie. Let''s go." Blondie hesitated for a moment before simply waving goodbye, which Aquaflora this time returned, albeit awkwardly. It seemed their little confrontation wasn''t fully behind them but was on the path to reconciliation. After helping Blondie onto the Caarghast, Goblin turned his attention to Dungeon Master 05 as the creature began to ascend. "Good luck out there, especially out in the field¡ªand I''m saying that for a reason," Goblin said. At these words, Licht frowned, glancing at me for understanding but failed to glean anything before Goblin added, "a word of advice, Licht¡ªjust follow along with her decisions. They might seem questionable, but the outcome will make sense in the end. Anyway, that''s all from me." He turned to me, "I won¡¯t really be able to contact you, but through that little bird you should be able to update me should you have to.¡± I nodded. "Well, then. Farewell, and godspeed. Let''s go, Leo!" He called, urging the Caarghast they rode, prompting it to take flight into the northeastern sky. Once they were just dots in the sky, I turned to my soon to be journey¡¯s companion and declared, "Well then, I think we should get moving too." B2. Chapter 15: Licht, Arianna, Aquaflora Despite being an equally sentient and humanoid race, elves differed from humans on several levels. Beyond abstract factors¡ªsuch as the unique interfaces they accessed through the system, their interactions within this system-driven world that is Fiendfell, and even their distinct modes of birth¡ªthere were also many notable differences on a superficial level. Yet, upon first meeting an elf, one might mistakenly assume the only difference was their pointed, elongated ears. However, that trait alone was unreliable an identifier as other sentient species, like certain demon races, also shared it. Recognizing an elf required knowledge of key traits and customs unique to their race. Like humans, who have subspecies such as Highbreed, Peons, and Verdenkind, elves also have their own equivalents, though structured differently. One prominent category was known as the "bastard elves." Originally, this type of elf was simply called "ancient" or just "elf," but that title faded as these beings were gradually replaced by other elves who bore similar characteristics. ''Bastard elves'' might sound like a disparaging term, but it only denotes elves who lack ties to a recognized elven family. A good example is Goblin, who, along with elves of the Mistwood Arbor village, belongs to this group. These elves descended from an elven family yet have distanced themselves from that legacy due to circumstances. Another pragmatic way, albeit somewhat crude, to identify this category is the existence of biological parents, as those elves were usually born with a conventional set of parents, both elven, a father and a mother who "directly" gave birth to them, which doesn''t happen for the other category. Next, there are half-elves like Aquaflora, who were born as half-breed but chose to embrace elfhood. Bastard elves, depending on their descent background, have various names for half-elven children born from elves and humans; the best known is ''Chai ii Lin,'' meaning ''Child Born Across the Sea.'' This term is the origin of the common practice of naming human-elven hybrids ''Charlie.'' Last but not least, there are the true elven families. Currently, there are five major types of elves, each associated with a distinct family: the Noctil Elves of the Umbryan Family, the Solvan Elves of the Aurian Family, the Lunor Elves of the Argyrian Family, and the Terran Elves of the Ferron Family. While one might think of an elven family as a clan, it¡¯s more complex; one cannot simply join an elven family as one would join a human clan as those are two very different concept. Being born into an elven family brings about physical changes, often manifesting in shared traits like hair color and complexion. In some cases, these traits are so pronounced that they become defining physical markers. For example, members of the Umbryan Family¡ªthe Noctil Elves¡ªare distinguished by their pale skin and black hair. They live in the northern western regions of the continent. We were currently headed there, riding on the back of Veilleuse-19, to seek the patriarch of the Umbryan Family, the monarch of the Noctil Elves. We were flying above the clouds, just as we had many times before, when I, becoming increasingly bored of the silent journey, couldn''t hold back a yawn. Dungeon Master 05 and Aquaflora both gave me a look. "What? Don''t you two think this is too monotonous?" I defended myself, indignant at their gazes. Having traveled almost as long with Dungeon Master 05 before, I was certain the journey wouldn''t have been this dull if we didn''t have Aquaflora along. His silence this time around was clearly due to our little extra. Tired of the silence, I decided to break it myself, "So, since we still have a long journey ahead, why don''t we discuss something to pass the time?" While it was clear my two companions were interested in the suggestion, neither of them showed it outright. Instead, both answered in a seemingly indifferent tone, "Sure." "What do we talk about?" "You''re the one who suggested it," Dungeon Master 05 said. Oh, what difficult companions I have here, but I wasn''t going to back down. "How about we introduce ourselves properly, since we''ll be together for some time?"You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Licht and Aquaflora exchanged glances, then replied, "We already did that." "Indeed, but last time it was done under awkward circumstances. We mostly just exchanged names. Now''s our opportunity to actually get to know each other¡ªyou know, properly," I said. "In sign of good faith, I''ll start. "I am Arianna. I am a Highbreed, with unique special classes of both Sorceress and Monk classes. Beyond my nature, I am many things¡ªadventurer, former King, though it''s more of a thing of a past, so ''Oathbreaker'' might be more accurate. But you see this tiara I''m wearing? You can still call me Queen Arianna, I wouldn''t mind. I like traveling¡ªbe it by flying like this or the old-fashioned way on horseback. And I also enjoy rat-hunting." At this, both Aquaflora and Licht frowned. "Rat-hunting?" Aquaflora echoed. "Yes, rat-hunting. It''s one of my favorite hobbies," I smiled. "Rats are quite a nuisance, so to make the world a better place I chase them, find their lair, and set it on fire. In other words, thoroughly exterminate them so they don''t cause any more problems." Dungeon Master 05 caught on quickly and added, "She was so thorough with it that it earned her the unique nickname among adventurers¡ªthe ''rat-slaughtering black witch.''" "How rude of them, I deserved a better title, especially after all the effort I put into cleaning the continent of the pest that they were," I replied with a pout. Licht made a "can''t be helped" shrug, while Aquaflora looked at me with a grave expression, so I went ahead and said, "Anyway, that''s me. If you have any questions, I''m open." I glanced at Licht, more out of courtesy than expecting a real question. He didn''t ask, but Aquaflora did. "You earlier mentioned you''re an Oathbreaker. Is it true that you''ve killed a king?" Bold question, I thought, amused. I smiled at her and answered, "It happened." Then I added, "I am an Oathbreaker to the One and Only Emperor, through and through. Well, to be exact on paper only. If you had [Appraisal], you would see that I have no such title." [King] and [Oathbreaker] are both system titles. The latter is bestowed by the emperor, and the former is stripped when the emperor deems you unworthy. Normally, I would have contracted the title [Oathbreaker], but since I never fully embraced my kingly oaths, I fully escaped its backlash. "So that man¡­ Alexander, did you¡­ him?" Aquaflora asked but couldn''t do so fully. I smiled, refusing to directly answer. "Lee once told you not to worry about him anymore. Now I''m telling you the same." Before she could react, I shifted focus. "Now, I believe that''s enough about me. Licht, why don''t you introduce yourself properly?" Licht proceeded with an introduction¡ªhe talked of he was the knight Verdenkind and an S-ranked adventurer. His introduction was smooth, almost rehearsed, but it was genuine. He spoke of his penchant for and adventure and solo monster extermination. As soon as he offered to answer questions, Aquaflora immediately asked, "What''s your relationship with her?" She pointed at me. "And with Lee and that girl?" Getting curious, aren''t we? I decided to answer on Licht''s behalf. "Licht here was mentored by a good friend of mine. He believed staying in the Land of Men was holding him back from reaching his full potential, so he sent him over here for me to look after. And as for his relationship with Lee and Sharrone¡ªnone, except what connects them to me." Before Aquaflora could pry further, Licht added curtly, "I suppose you don''t have any other questions." His tone made it clear that no further explanations were forthcoming. "I guess it''s your turn now, Miss Aquaflora," I said. With a sigh, Aquaflora introduced herself, much the same as she had before. It was nothing I didn''t already know. I was most interested when she finally finished so I could ask, "Now, I''ve always been curious. What were you doing in that corner of Quelt''halas where Lee and the others found you? I understand you were sent to this part of the world to keep you away from danger, but why the isolation?" "What do you mean?" she asked, clearly understanding but wanting me to elaborate. "You knew I was Queen, which means you were informed about what''s going in the Land of Men¡ªabout what happened to your grandmother and family¡ªdespite being isolated deep in Quel''thalas. My question is, what were you planning?" "Are you asking because you want to mock me for not doing what you did to your fellow King?" "Not at all. I''m genuinely curious. When I heard about that one missing half-breed princess Alexander was searching for, I immediately thought of you. I assumed you were out there plotting¡ªyour return, your¡ª" "Revenge?" "Justice for your usurped royal family. I have no respect for people who cling to titles, but a desire for ''justice'' is something I can get behind." Inaction, on the other hand, was something I couldn''t fathom. I chose not to voice that thought, though. Petting the white loong draped around her, Aquaflora said, "My family sent me here so I could live away from all that burden." "Oh? And it never occurred to you to go against that wish? Not even when you heard what Alexander did to them?" Aquaflora remained silent, but her loong¡ªcoiled protectively around her like a scarf¡ªhissed at me, clearly wanting me to stop. It was about as intimidating as a garden snake. Still, deciding to wrap it up, I said, "Well, that''s impressive, really. As you said, I can''t imagine myself doing that. I guess that''s the difference between you and me." I glanced at Licht before adding. "Because I do not forget, and I certainly do not forgive." B2. Chapter 16: Umbryan family capital What''s a monarch? A monarch is the equivalent of what a Guardian is to a dungeon and what a Prime is to monsters, except that a monarch is for sentient races such as humans, dwarves and elves. In other words, it is a title bestowed upon beings deemed by the system as the apex of their category. Depending on the title bearer''s race, the title of monarch can differ: for humans, it is Emperor; for angels, Seraphim; and for elves, it is either Patriarch or Matriarch. Just like Guardians for dungeons, monarch isn''t just an empty title. It comes with three substantial improvements to the title bearer. First, the monarch title is unique in the sense that it allows the wielder to bestow other "titles." The [King] title, for instance, is bestowed by the One and Only Emperor to those he deems worthy of it. The effects of these bestowed titles can vary and depend entirely on the monarch''s strength and decision. The second advantage is that monarchs, like dungeon Guardians, gain access to something called a domain. Within this domain, they can either receive significant advantages or inflict debilitating effect on a particular type of opponents. The way this domain manifests varies by race. For an Emperor, it manifests as an actual territory¡ªa physical domain ruled by themselves or individuals they have given titles to. The third major improvement brought about by the monarch title is the acquisition of a [Relic], which is a manifestation of a sovereign''s dominion. Depending on one''s class, race, and other factors, this relic can take many forms. For the Seraphims of the Land of Men and Archdukes of the Underworld, it takes the form of a moon. For humans, whose manifestation depends largely on their class, the relic often appears as a weapon¡ªsometimes two. For elves, however, the relic manifests uniquely¡ªnot as a moon or weapons but as something entirely their own. We had been flying for almost a week. I''d expected the journey to be long but didn''t think it would stretch on this much. Sure, with our guest, we had to take actual breaks now and then, but still, I strongly underestimated the distance¡ªtoo strongly. But after six days of flight, we finally closed in on our destination. How did I know when none of us were particularly familiar with this corner of Quel''thalas? Well, the something massive, gray, and magical in the distance was a dead giveaway. "That thing, that''s it, right?" Licht asked, his eyes widening at the sight of the gigantic tree. Its trunk shot up like a pillar from the earth, with branches reaching skyward, crowned by leaves that dwarfed even the clouds. I nodded. Aquaflora noticed Licht''s expression¡ªhis eyes filled with wonder¡ªand asked, "This is your first time seeing an Ancestral Tree, right?" Licht nodded. "I had the same reaction too when I first saw one," she said with a smile, one that suggested that she got a little confortable than she initially were with him. Traveling together means you sometimes fill the silence with small talk. When you''re alone, traveling in silence can be peaceful, but when you¡¯re with others¡ªespecially on Veilleuse-19''s back, which, though massive, still has limited space¡ªsilence can get awkward. From time to time, either I, Aquaflora, or Licht would start a conversation to kill that boredom. Usually, it wasn''t anything deep, but it helped us to grow accustomed to each other''s presence. Wanting to join in the banter, I added with mock boastfulness, "I wasn''t all that impressed by the first one I''d seen." Frowning, Aquaflora asked, "Whose Ancestral Tree was it?" I smiled then, "a friend''s," I answered. To quell any further inquiry¡ªconsidering the sensitive nature of that friend and the ancestral tree in question¡ªI added, "It was a friend''s Ancestral Tree," emphasizing the "was" part. Aquaflora seemed to catch my meaning. Perhaps out of consideration¡ªjust as I''d refrained from mentioning her family or her grandmother since our "introduction"¡ªshe didn¡¯t press any further. As we drew closer, the true enormity of the tree became even more evident. From a distance, you wouldn''t notice the tree''s translucent quality. But here it was clear. Beyond the gray haze that made it appear otherworldly, the within of the massive trunk harbored signs of civilization.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Within the heart and at the base of the colossal trunk of an ancient-looking, translucent-gray tree¡ªa magical titan that reached the skies¡ªlay an expansive city. It wasn''t built around the tree; instead, it was sheltered within the very core of the trunk. Despite its vastness, the city occupied only a fraction of this natural sanctuary¡ªa mere portion of the tree''s interior, cocooned by its massive, magical almost living walls. Veilleuse-19 began circling the magical tree, giving us a breathtaking view. From this distance, the tree glowed faintly, its aura shimmering. The towering trunk walls appeared translucent-gray, revealing clearly the massive living sanctuary within¡ªa hidden realm that we were yearning to enter, for this was our destination: the capital of the Noctil Elves. For a moment, we circled the gigantic tree¡ªwell, "circled" is a big word when you consider the tree''s size. It would be more accurate to say we flew along the edge of it. Why didn''t we just proceed directly into the capital you ask? Well, that gigantic tree¡ªknown as an Ancestral Tree¡ªserves a particular purpose. Its main purpose is to act as a barrier, preventing unwanted intruders from entering the domain it protects. Having seen one before, I knew these trees are set up to repel monsters¡ªcreatures like Veilleuse-19¡ªand even, in some cases, outsiders who aren''t part of the elven family the tree protects. So, chances were that if we tried to proceed into the capital, we would be stopped. But even if we weren¡¯t, it would be incredibly rude to just march into someone else''s capital unannounced¡ªespecially when that "someone" was a monarch. In my experience, title-bearers of such status tend to be rather prideful. Tact and decorum were expected. I learned that. My time as a Queen wasn''t entirely wasted, after all. Despite my attempts to avoid it, I had learned the importance of ceremonial matters. In this case, sending an envoy to announce our arrival was the right move. Naturally, such an envoy should have been sent weeks or months in advance, but we didn''t have that luxury. So, I adjusted my approach by sending Aquaflora to meet the authorities representing the patriarch. They''d likely already noticed our approach, so she would probably encounter them midway to initiate contact. As I watched her fly off on her broom to fulfill this role, I couldn''t help but be pleased with my decision to bring her along. Standing under the shade of a nearby tree, looking toward the looming Ancestral Tree, I said to Licht, "I told Goblin she wouldn¡¯t be a burden. Now look at her, already being useful." From the corner of my eye, I saw Licht nod, more out of politeness than genuine agreement, I assumed. "What are we going to do after we meet the patriarch?" he asked after a moment. "We''ll ask for his help to defeat our problematic patriarch," I replied. "Yeah, I know that part," Licht said, frowning. "But how are we going to convince him? You mentioned that this patriarch has quite the personality. Do you have anything to convince him for sure?" "No, I..." I hesitated, weighing my words. "I have nothing to convince him except the facts. We''d all better be extra convincing when explaining just how much of a threat the rogue patriarch is to him, his people and his domain if we don''t deal with it." "That''s..." Licht began, but then paused. "What?" I asked. "I thought you... I had hoped you had a better plan," he admitted. What, I thought, that sounds like a good plan to me. Despite the sting of his words, I kept my expression neutral. Perhaps seeing this, Licht asked, "What will happen if he refuses to cooperate?" I smiled. "Don''t worry about that. It''s very likely that he''ll cooperate... about that part," I said, which only prompted another frown from him. "It''s also very likely that he''ll ignore us at first, so it''s fifty-fifty. But even if the odds weren''t in our favor, we aren''t far from having everything we need to tip the scale. We just have to play our cards right," I added, addressing his earlier skepticism. "But don''t worry, I chose to come because I know that if there''s anyone who can handle someone like this patriarch, it''s me." Licht gave a nod. "I see... Sorry, I didn''t mean to question you like I did." "It''s fine," I replied. "You were just concerned, and rightfully so. After all, we need the cooperation of the elven monarchs to take down our rogue patriarch." Nodding, he mumbled, "Three patriarchs against one... Just how strong is he?" "How strong compared to whom?" I asked. After hesitating for a moment, Licht answered, "Compared to the One and Only Emperor." Hearing this, I chuckled, genuinely amused. "As much as it pains me to admit it, Cleon is stronger." Licht was about to respond when I added, "But that''s if we don''t factor in what makes this patriarch truly problematic: the stampede of monsters under his control, his relic, and of course, the authority he wields. With those three, I''d say he''s far more difficult to deal with than Cleon." He nodded, then ventured, "And compared to you?" "Compared to me?" I smiled. "Well, as sad as sad as it is to admit, as of now, I''d say it would take three of me to even the playing field. In other words, one to handle each of his problematic assets. With a fourth, I''d say what we came here to recover would be in the bag." I paused, shaking my head in disappointment. "Unfortunately, we don''t have three of me, let alone four, which is why¡ª" "We have to get the elven monarchs to help take him down," Licht finished my thought. I nodded in agreement. "Exactly." About an hour later, Aquaflora returned atop her broom, closely followed by two squads of Noctil Elves. As she approached, she announced the good news: the patriarch of the Umbryan elven family would receive us as guests in his capital. B2. Chapter 17: Umbryan Patriarch Beyond the obvious anatomical distinctions¡ªthe elongated ears being a constant hallmark among elves¡ªthere are also variables that vary among elven families. Yet, anatomy alone doesn¡¯t capture the full scope of their uniqueness. What truly sets elves apart from humans lies in their system interface. Humans and elves access different system interfaces, a necessary divergence given the disparity in their life expectancies. While humans rarely live beyond a hundred years, elves, with their comparative ease in longevity, could dominate Quel''thalas unchecked if they had equal access to the human system. This difference introduces a sense of balance, ensuring fairness in how the system treats both races. That¡¯s not to say the elven interface is entirely alien to the human one. They share structural similarities: both have status, attributes, skills, and abilities. However, three key distinctions set the elven system apart. The first is their class structure. Elves have core classes and subclasses, but these terms don¡¯t hold the same meaning as they do for humans. The second difference lies in their attributes. Unlike the human attributes of Strength, Intelligence, Agility, Wisdom, Constitution, Charisma, and Faith for highbreed humans, elves possess Vitality, Resilience, Agility, Affinity, Perception, and Mysticism. These stats govern their interactions with their statuses and classes. The third and most unique feature of the elven system is the presence of two additional sections: [Affiliation] and [Affinity]. The [Affiliation] section is simple, detailing the family an elf belongs to and the ancestral tree they wield. The [Affinity] section, however, is far more intricate. It allows elves to accrue and allocate Affinity Points into subaffinities belonging to five main affinities: Elemental, Artistic, Arcane, Nature, and Spiritual. Each main affinity can host dozens, even hundreds, of subaffinities. For instance, Mana Control belongs to Arcane Affinity, Herbalism to Nature Affinity, and Alchemy to Artistic Affinity. Affinity Points, gained through level-ups much like attribute points, can be invested into these subaffinities. This investment increases the likelihood of unlocking skills or abilities tied to the subaffinity. For example, investing in Lightning Elemental Affinity might lead to the acquisition of a Lightning Elemental Discharge skill or the Lightning Mantle ability. The effect of these points becomes more tangible as investment grows. At lower thresholds, such as below fifteen points, the impact is negligible. This is where elven classes and subclasses play a role, as they enhance affinity point efficacy. For example, the Swamp Witch subclass synergizes with Nature, Elemental and Spiritual Affinity, while the Sylvan Enchanter class pairs well with Arcane Affinity subaffinities. Still, these pairings only offer moderate boosts; they¡¯re far from being overpowered cheats. Substantial benefits only emerge at higher investment levels, typically between seventy-five and ninety points. Reaching the ninety-point threshold in a single subaffinity is especially significant. If the elf possesses the required level of [Longevity] skill, it grants them the ability to ascend to monarch status¡ªa patriarch or matriarch¡ªand manifest a relic: an ancestral tree. Once rejoined by Aquaflora and the escort of Noctil elves, we were promptly led to the elven capital. To my surprise, the process was nearly immediate. I had expected rigorous questioning before being granted entry into the domain, followed by days or even weeks of negotiation to secure an audience with the patriarch. Yet, it all happened with surprising speed. While expedience was convenient, it left me uneasy. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that such haste would lead to a negative outcome. Perhaps it was just my inherent pessimism speaking¡ªor so I hoped. As we approached the barrier of the massive tree that guarded the capital, we left Veilleuse-19 outside. While the barrier¡¯s enchantments allowed familiars like Aquaflora¡¯s loong or even Veilleuse-19 to pass, I had concerns about the potential chaos Veilleuse-19¡¯s size might cause within the city. It seemed best to let it roam freely outside. Escorted by the Noctil elves, we ventured into the heart of their capital and arrived at the patriarch¡¯s abode. The castle was unlike anything I had ever seen. Rising above the gardens treetops, it was a sprawling testament to elegance and power, its white facade contrasting sharply with the dark wooden architecture of the surrounding city. The roofs tiered in elaborate layers, their curving edges evoking the wings of a bird about to take flight. Shadows danced across its walls, each silhouette sharp against the sky. The central tower loomed tallest, surrounded by cascading wings that gave the structure a rhythmic grace. Inside, the polished wooden floors gleamed with light streaming from high windows, and intricate painted screens adorned the walls, depicting black-haired elves slaying formidable entities. The large room were brought to was both austere and commanding. Parallel rows of elves lined the room¡¯s sides, their silence almost palpable. Most bore the characteristic black hair of the Noctil elves, but one corner caught my attention. There sat Lunor Elves with their striking silver hair, a stark contrast to the dark-haired majority. Aquaflora¡¯s expression mirrored my surprise, her gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts. At the center of the room, raised slightly on a platform, sat the patriarch¡¯s throne. Seemingly grown from the roots of an ancient tree, its intricate backrest and armrests exuded vitality, as though the tree had willingly shaped itself into this regal form. Upon it sat an imposing figure, his dark hair framing a face of both regal and severe bearing. His piercing eyes seemed to see through all who dared meet them. He wore a robe richly embroidered with golden floral and vine motifs, gemstones glimmering faintly at his chest. The image of Cleon, the self-proclaimed One and Only Emperor, briefly flashed in my mind. Yet, unlike Cleon, this elf bore no crown¡ªonly an undeniable air of authority. The elf leading our group came to a halt several meters from the elevated platform. With a solemn tone, he announced, ¡°Patriarch Linh, Owner of the Obsidial Tree, Patriarch of the Umbryan Family, Monarch of the Noctil Elves, I present to you Aquaflora the Kinless, Licht of the Land of Men, and Arianna of the Land of Men.¡± He then turned to us. ¡°Pay your respects to the patriarch,¡± he instructed, bowing low to demonstrate. Aquaflora and Licht immediately followed suit, their movements measured and respectful. I, however, remained standing, my gaze fixed on the patriarch. The silence stretched, the room¡¯s tension thickening with each passing moment. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Aquaflora and the elf who had introduced us asked simultaneously, their voices tinged with confusion. Ignoring them, I continued to stare at the patriarch. Finally, he spoke. ¡°Is there a problem, Miss Arianna of the Land of Men?¡± ¡°There indeed is,¡± I answered promptly. ¡°In the land of men where I come from, one simply does not bow to one¡¯s equal.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Naturally, my claim incited an uproar among the assembled elves. Murmurs and sharp whispers echoed through the hall, most coming from the older elves in attendance. The patriarch, with a mere raise of his hand, quelled the commotion. ¡°So, you¡¯re claiming to be my equal?¡± he asked, amusement flickering in his tone. I didn¡¯t answer directly, simply maintaining my gaze. His chuckle broke the silence. ¡°I¡¯ve heard rumors of what you did in the land of men, challenging your monarch¡ªthe only one among you humans who might be considered my equal. Bold enough to confront him, suggesting you see yourself as his equal, or perhaps even his superior. Yet as far as I can see, you bear no mark of a monarch.¡± ¡°That might be true,¡± I conceded, ¡°but I do not judge equality through titles. Having appraised me, you might understand why I think that.¡± The patriarch¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, though his smile remained. ¡°Strength over titles, is it? And do you think I¡¯d agree?¡± ¡°I have no doubt you would,¡± I said evenly. ¡°For someone who has claimed every ancestral tree under the Spiritual Affinity in Quel¡¯thalas, strength must mean everything to you. At least that''s what I''m inclined to believe. I might be wrong though.¡± After a moment of tense silence, the patriarch¡¯s sharp gaze softened just enough to signal his decision. "I can¡¯t say that it¡¯s not the same," he finally said, his tone measured. "Fine. You may do as you wish. As for you two..." He motioned toward Aquaflora and Licht, indicating that they should rise. They did so, their movements cautious yet grateful. "Now then, I hope you¡¯ve enjoyed the sights of our capital on your way," he added, almost conversationally. "We have," I replied smoothly, though I added with a hint of regret, "Though, regrettably, we haven¡¯t had the chance to visit much since we just got here." "Oh, I hope we didn¡¯t rush you off," he said, the faintest trace of mockery laced in his words. "Not at all," I answered, inclining my head slightly in a gesture of respect that could just barely qualify as a bow. "In fact, we are very honored to be granted such a prompt audience. The matter we¡¯ve come to discuss is rather urgent." "Oh?" The patriarch leaned forward, his tone turning curious. "And what might that be, I wonder?" I didn¡¯t respond immediately, instead glancing toward Aquaflora. With a subtle nod, I signaled that it was her time to speak. This was why she had come¡ªto make the appeal for unity against the rogue patriarch, a matter that concerned her more directly than it did me. She hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward. At first, her voice was tight, constrained by nerves. But as she continued, her words began to flow more freely, detailing the events that had led to our presence here. She explained the danger posed by her patriarch, the threat to Quel¡¯thalas itself, and the need for the patriarchs and matriarchs to unite. While her voice carried conviction, my attention wandered momentarily to the corner of the room where the Lunor Elves sat. Their silver hair marked them unmistakably as members of the Argyrian family. As Aquaflora spoke, I scrutinized their every movement, every subtle shift of expression. They didn¡¯t seem entirely at ease, their apprehension evident in the tension of their postures. Were we in a more relaxed environment, I had no doubt they would have interrupted to interject their own perspectives. However, the presence of the Noctil Patriarch seemed to keep them in check. Aquaflora pressed on, her words gaining momentum, though it became increasingly clear that the patriarch was already aware of the situation. His impassive expression gave little away, but his response when she finished confirmed my suspicion. "To tell you the truth," he began, his tone carrying an air of amusement, "I have already heard about this matter¡ªno sooner than a couple of days ago, in fact, from your well-informed fellow Argyrians over there." He gestured toward the Lunor Elves clustered in the corner of the room. Finally, I allowed myself a full glance at them. From the moment I had noticed their presence, a theory had been forming in my mind. Based on what I knew of the latest developments within the Argyrian Family, it made sense that they would reach out to the other patriarchs for help. Still, I hadn¡¯t expected them to act so swiftly. Months had passed since the first signs of trouble, but this move still seemed prompt. Two concerns immediately rose in my mind. The first involved what exactly they hoped to achieve here and how it might interfere with our efforts. The second was for Goblin. If the Lunor Elves had sent envoys here, it stood to reason they might have dispatched others to the matriarch of the Aurian Family, where Goblin and Blondie went to seek help to. Aquaflora¡¯s presence, as someone of partial Argyrian descent, had already irritated him enough. How would he react to these full-blooded Lunor Elves in the court of their matriarch? I sighed quietly, pushing the thought aside for now. I¡¯m worrying too much, I told myself. He¡¯s not going to lose his temper over a couple of Argyrians. Definitely. Still, as soon as this meeting was over, I resolved to warn him, just in case. "And, it''s regrettable for me to say this," the patriarch began, without putting any effort to make it sound the slightest bit genuine, "but I''m going to give you the same answer I gave them a few days prior, as I assume you''re here to request my help to deal with your patriarch." "I---" "No," I interrupted, understanding that the answer was obviously going to be a refusal. If he wouldn¡¯t help, then I had to make my position clear before he completely dismissed us. "No?" he questioned, raising a dark brow. "Yes, no. We didn¡¯t come here to ask you to deal with such a problem," I clarified, standing my ground. "We came with the offer to help deal with the Argyrian elves'' rogue patriarch. Now, by the time we¡¯re speaking, friends and allies of mine are on their way with the same request to the matriarch of the Aurian family and the patriarch of the Ferron family, to join a coalition with the common goal of annihilating the rogue patriarch." The words out of my mouth didn¡¯t seem to please the Argyrian guests. They barely managed to contain themselves, their tension palpable, but I couldn¡¯t care less. Their indignation was irrelevant. "Oh," the patriarch said, leaning back slightly in his throne. "And Miss Arianna of the Land of Men, what is it concretely that I can gain from this?" "That," I said, musing, "can be negotiated, so I can''t yet name anything. But what I can say is that you joining this coalition guarantees you the extermination of the threat that the argyrian patriarch currently represents for you." "A threat, huh," he echoed, skepticism lacing his tone. "Yes, a threat. As per the latest news I received about his movements, he and the stampede he¡¯s leading are slowly making their way to this side of the continent," I stated, raising my voice slightly to ensure the other elves present¡ªthe patriarch¡¯s "elders" as I call them¡ªcould hear me clearly. At my words, a ripple of murmurs erupted. Glances were exchanged, tension rising in the room. But the patriarch quelled the growing noise with a mere motion of his hand. The silence that followed was heavy, but I wasted no time in using it. "With this coalition, we guarantee you my strength, plus that of two other elven monarchs to deal with him. As it stands, he is a threat¡ªto you, to the other elven monarchs¡ªunless, perhaps, you, Patriarch, are confident in your ability to singlehandedly take him and his monsters down." For a brief moment, a flicker of pride flashed in his eyes¡ªa pride I¡¯d seen before in the man who called himself the One and Only Emperor. It was the belief in one¡¯s own unshakeable strength, the conviction of being an unassailable monolith. But it was only an instant before his expression returned to its usual calm, measured demeanor. "So far," he began, "you¡¯ve presented several arguments, and they involve me, the other patriarchs, and the matriarchs. But I¡¯ve yet to hear anything from you that explains what you have to gain out of this. Because there has to be a reason for you to be involved in this seemingly elven problem, right?" "What I have to gain from this?" I pondered his words for a moment, then met his gaze unwaveringly. "You¡¯re right. I do have something to gain from this," I admitted. "As it stands, the patriarch of the Argyrian Family is the person I hate the most, and the second person I undoubtedly wish the demise of. For the simple reason that he is directly responsible for the death of someone very dear to me¡ªsomeone I had spent years rearing, decades, and even centuries ahead of him. Lost, all because of him. My motives are very simple," I continued, my voice steady but laced with an edge. "I just want justice for my little baby stolen from me and his siblings too soon." B2. Chapter 18: Stalemate Seven days had passed since our arrival in the capital of the Umbryan family¡ªseven days since we had been served a resounding ¡°no¡± from their patriarch in response to our proposition to join forces against the patriarch of the Argyrian family. Seven days since disappointment settled in, tempered only slightly by the patriarch¡¯s unexpected gesture of hospitality. Despite his answer, he had invited us to stay instead of sending us on our way, a move that had initially made me frown at his seemingly contradictory behavior. But I wasn¡¯t one to let an opportunity slip, and if he was willing to host us, I was more than willing to abuse his hospitality. And here we were, in an estate generously assigned for our stay in the capital. It wasn¡¯t just luxurious; it was excessive, as if the patriarch wanted to make a point. I sat in my room on an armchair, facing Licht, who was similarly settled across from me. Between us was a table bearing a board game: black and white stones arrayed on a grid. We were playing ¡°?¨¢ Vay¡±, a local game I¡¯d been introduced to one century and half ago. It wasn¡¯t native to the Umbryan family but had been adopted from an older elven family, one that had been annihilated long ago. The game, reminiscent of chess in its tactical complexity, had been a welcome distraction. After teaching Licht the rules and playing a few practice rounds, this was our first serious match. I placed a black stone on the upper-right corner of the board, initiating the game. Licht countered with a white stone in the lower-left, mirroring my move. ¡°So, what exactly do we do now?¡± he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp as he analyzed the board. ¡°What¡¯s that question about?¡± I replied, adding another black stone near the center, aiming to control more territory. He set a white stone adjacent to mine, challenging my advance. ¡°I mean, what¡¯s our plan? It¡¯s been a week since he turned us down, and it doesn¡¯t look like he¡¯s changing his mind.¡± ¡°Did you really expect him to change his mind?¡± I chuckled softly. ¡°Erm, yes?¡± Licht¡¯s voice held a hint of defensiveness. ¡°Isn¡¯t that why we¡¯re still here? Or was I just being stupid to think that?¡± ¡°Not stupid,¡± I reassured, sliding a black stone along the board¡¯s edge, attempting to flank his position. ¡°Just too hopeful. We¡¯re dealing with a monarch¡ªsomeone who¡¯s been told by the almighty system that he¡¯s at the apex of his kin. And he¡¯s spent centuries proving that notification right. Pride from something like that isn¡¯t easily swayed.¡± Licht mulled over my words, then placed a white stone to block my approach. ¡°So I was stupid to expect it after all.¡± I smiled warmly. ¡°To be fair, it¡¯s not impossible to change his mind. It¡¯s just going to take more than what we¡¯ve offered so far.¡± I tapped a finger thoughtfully before placing another black stone. ¡°We need better arguments¡ªones that appeal to his perspective.¡± Licht opened his mouth as if to ask if I had any such arguments, but he seemed to catch himself, halting mid-thought. So instead, he said, ¡°Your terms didn¡¯t seem like a bad deal to me. Joining forces guarantees the demise of a threat that¡¯ll eventually become his problem too.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true¡­ to you,¡± I said, emphasizing the last two words. ¡°But try looking at it from his perspective.¡± Licht fell silent, contemplating my words as he grinned, clearly pleased with his next move. He dropped a white stone, cutting off one of my potential connections. I narrowed my eyes and set a black stone to fortify my position. ¡°He¡¯s not just a monarch¡ªhe¡¯s an elven monarch. Try to see it from his prideful perspective,¡± I added. Licht placed another white stone, venturing, ¡°He thinks he can handle the Argyrian patriarch by himself?¡± ¡°Not exactly. It¡¯s not just confidence in his ability to win¡ªit¡¯s confidence that he can handle himself. There¡¯s a difference.¡± I continued, ¡°Currently, in Quel¡¯Thalas, there are four known elven monarchs: the Umbryan patriarch, the Aurian matriarch, the Ferron patriarch, and the Argyrian patriarch. Each of them has reached the pinnacle of their respective affinities. To become a monarch, an elf must invest 90 affinity points into a single sub-affinity, manifesting a sigil¡ªan ancestral tree. This sigil not only marks their status but also ensures that no other elf can manifest a sigil from the same sub-affinity. Three of the four monarchs¡ªthe Umbryan patriarch, the Aurian matriarch, and the Argyrian patriarch¡ªare the undisputed leaders of their affinities having conquered other ancestral trees within their main affinity, solidifying their dominance. The Ferron patriarch, however, is the only one that has yet achieved such dominance. Licht placed another stone thoughtfully. ¡°So they¡¯re equals?¡± ¡°In terms of the potency of their sigils, yes,¡± I replied. ¡°But judging by the confidence the Umbryan patriarch exuded when he refused our offer, I¡¯d say he believes himself stronger.¡± I was tempted to call it arrogance but held back. This patriarch had lived many lifetimes over, far longer than I had, and his confidence likely stemmed from experience. If I had to guess, it was due to a certain detail we¡¯d uncovered¡ªone involving not just us but also the unexpected guests from the Argyrian family. The current state of their patriarch was¡­ less than stable. So it¡¯s very likely that he believes that would be a disadvantage for the Argyrian patriarch. I made a bold move, placing a black stone deep in Licht¡¯s territory. ¡°Now then, another question. If you were in his shoes, what other reason might he have for refusing our offer?¡± Licht raised an eyebrow, his next move deftly surrounding my intruding stone with white. ¡°Does it have to do with his sigil?¡± ¡°Bingo.¡± I chuckled, placing a black stone elsewhere, shifting my strategy. ¡°In fact, I¡¯d say that¡¯s the main reason he refused. For him, there¡¯s simply nothing to gain from going after the Argyrian patriarch.¡± To stand where he currently stands, one has to possess a natural leniency for conquest¡ªa bloodthirst, in fact. It can even be said that such a trait is a necessity. A battle should ignite that hunger, awaken the instinct to dominate. But here¡¯s the thing: when a patriarch doesn¡¯t belong to the same affinity branch, battles become pointless. For elven monarchs, the primary motive for fighting lies in the acquisition of a sigil from another monarch. Yet, a sigil spawned from a sub-affinity cannot be merged with another from a different main affinity.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Well, it¡¯s not entirely impossible, but the consequences are so disastrous that any sane elf wouldn¡¯t entertain the thought. This is why elven monarchs belonging to different branches of affinity exist in a sort of harmony. Not the friendliest of relations, certainly, but far more peaceful compared to the bloody feuds that occur within the same branch. ¡°Sure, there¡¯s experience to be gained from defeating a powerful patriarch,¡± I said, placing a black stone on the board, ¡°but at the end of the day, the most valuable reward¡ªthe sigil¡ªwouldn¡¯t even end up in his hands. So, what¡¯s the point?¡± I gestured towards the luxurious surroundings of the Umbryan domain. ¡°Elven monarchs aren¡¯t particularly interested in territory. Look at this place. It¡¯s already excessive. I suppose you could argue that the Argyrian population itself is a resource worth seizing, but compared to the pain in the ass that is defeating an elven monarch standing at the apex of their specialized affinity? It¡¯s a miserable loot.¡± Licht winced as I laid out the logic, either because he finally understood or because he realized I¡¯d just put him in a miserable spot on the board. He made a resigned move, placing a white stone with a sigh. ¡°I now think, in his shoes, I would¡¯ve refused too.¡± ¡°You sure would¡¯ve,¡± I replied, smiling as I moved my piece, bringing about the game¡¯s equivalent of checkmate. ¡°Especially when you ask the one inviting you to battle why she wants to defeat a monarch you have no motive to fight, and she responds with some random personal reason. Perhaps I should¡¯ve come up with a more pragmatic answer.¡± Leaning back in his seat, Licht sighed deeply before asking, ¡°How was he?¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Him. Charlie. What was he like?¡± ¡°What was he like, huh¡­¡± I trailed off, my mind slipping into a nostalgic haze. My gaze drifted to the small bird perched silently in the room. It had been there the entire conversation, watching us like an uninvited guest. ¡°He was adorable. Ridiculously adorable. You should¡¯ve seen him as a child. Born with a full head of black hair, hazel eyes, and the kind of mischief that made you want to spoil him rotten.¡± Licht sat quietly, listening, so I continued. ¡°He was the youngest of the group. Goblin, Luci, Bortz, Blondie¡ªthey were already there when Charlie, or as I first named him, Daemon, came along. That name didn¡¯t last long, though. The others preferred ¡®Charlie,¡¯ and it stuck. As the cadet of the group, he was the most spoiled, and he was the kind of child you couldn¡¯t help but pamper.¡± ¡°Sounds like you really loved him,¡± Licht commented softly. I chuckled at the sentiment. ¡°Not any more than I loved any of us.¡± Licht frowned, tilting his head. ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I responded, but the look on Licht¡¯s face told me he didn¡¯t believe me. ¡°I''ve seen how you''re looking at Goblin.¡° So, with a sigh, I admitted, ¡°Okay, maybe I love Goblin more than the rest, but only by a reasonable margin. You should have seen him as a child.¡± Goblin was technically the first Dungeon Master I had to raise as my own, if we didn¡¯t count Dungeon Master 09¡ªhis circumstances being vastly different from the others. That might be what clouds my judgment. Back then, I was fumbling through how to do things properly, but looking back on those days, I can only smile. Those memories of the four of us together¡ªme, White, Goblin, and his beloved serpentine companion Frank¡ªare some of my fondest. Smiling, I added, ¡°As a child, he was a hunk¡ªa compressed hunk of cuteness. And he stayed that way until he reached the elven equivalent of twelves years old. Then, the chubby little one turned into a slim and short teenager. Sigh, I miss those days.¡± Listening, Licht frowned. ¡°Slim? Short? Him?¡± ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s lanky. If you think otherwise, you¡¯re being fooled by the effect of a skill.¡± That¡¯s right. Goblin¡¯s current appearance¡ªthe one that looks as though he¡¯s lived half a lifetime¡ªis nothing more than the effect of a skill. When I asked why he used it, he said it was ¡°time for a change.¡± While I wasn¡¯t particularly fond of his slim teenager look, I can¡¯t say I¡¯m a fan of his current one either. Sure, it brings back some of the hunk he had as a child, but it¡¯s not the same. ¡°I see,¡± Licht said. ¡°I didn¡¯t even notice.¡± ¡°That¡¯s normal,¡± I reassured him. ¡°The skill is one he was born with, and one of the first he managed to level up. It¡¯s not something easily discernible.¡± ¡°What does he look like without it?¡± Licht asked, curiosity evident. ¡°A little younger than you look,¡± I replied. ¡°That¡¯s why I thought the two of you would get along. But, well, it seems I expected too much.¡± Licht remained silent for a moment before saying, ¡°It¡¯s not like he and I don¡¯t get along. I just think he¡¯s a little weird¡­ and unfriendly.¡± Glancing at the bird perched in the corner of the room, I chuckled. ¡°I won¡¯t pretend he¡¯s not both. Goblin is the kind you have to learn to love¡ªimperfections and all.¡± After another game¡ªwhich ended in my win, much to Licht¡¯s frustration¡ªI asked, ¡°Wanna come with me later this evening?¡± ¡°Where to?¡± ¡°Tourism. I invited Aquaflora yesterday to see the capital¡¯s streets. You want to tag along?¡± Without much pause, he agreed. I couldn¡¯t pretend not to understand his quick response; the current stalemate we were stuck in was slowly getting boring. After a final game that ended like the previous ones, Licht stood up, announcing, clearly annoyed, with the game, ¡°I¡¯m going to get changed for our outing.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± As he reached the door, he stopped, taking a few deep breaths before turning back with a serene expression. ¡°From what you explained earlier, is it safe to assume we¡¯re not just wasting time?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not,¡± I assured him. ¡°What¡¯s to be done, I can¡¯t say yet. But we¡¯re definitely not wasting time. If I had to call it something, I¡¯d say we¡¯re taking time to contemplate the problem.¡± Licht sneered. "Contemplating problems, huh?" "What?" "I didn''t take you to be the kind to take time to contemplate anything." ¡°How rude,¡± I responded, feigning offense. ¡°Did you think I was the type to punch my way through every problem?¡± ¡°I admit, that¡¯s exactly how I thought of you. And to be fair, I''m not to be blamed, your reputation is.¡± I burst into laughter. ¡°Well, then you¡¯ve got me wrong, friend. I¡¯m a very calm, thoughtful, and peace-loving person. Despite everything you¡¯ve heard. Sure, I have solved most of my issues through violence, but I also know how to appreciate the peace that follows or precedes it.¡± Like nothing, my time as Queen of my little kingdom came to mind. Having servants cater to my every whim while I relaxed had its appeal. The responsibilities and appearances of royalty were a bore, but the peace and comforts? I absolutely loved them. ¡°I see,¡± Licht said before finally leaving. As the door closed behind him, I stared at it for a moment before looking at the bird in the room¡ªthe one Licht had been carrying when we left the mansion. Goblin had given them to us. It was one of his bonded companions, our first means of communication. The bird flew to perch on the finger I extended. Despite being effective as a communication tool, it wasn¡¯t as seamless as a phone. At the skill¡¯s current level, it allowed only one-sided discussions, and my lack of skill related to monster communication¡¯s transcription was to be blamed for that. ¡°You heard everything I just said, Goblin. I want you to know I meant every word, and none of it was spoken just because I knew you¡¯d hear it. Though, me saying that probably isn¡¯t helping either. I¡¯ll leave it to you to guess.¡± Switching to a language only Dungeon Masters and perhaps a reincarnate from my original world would understand, I added, ¡°Now, onto a more serious matter. It¡¯s about the developments here. You¡¯re no doubt already aware of our progress. Most likely, you understand why I¡¯m calling you.¡± B2. Chapter 19: Umbryan Capital Somewhere in the early afternoon, Licht, Aquaflora, and I made our way to the capital city to see the streets with our own eyes. We were never explicitly forbidden from exploring, but I had refrained from doing so earlier to avoid giving the impression that we were spies scouting the area. Not that I thought our host would think that, but caution seemed prudent. Now, however, I felt comfortable enough to indulge in a bit of tourism. And damn it was worth it, the sight was absolutely mesmerizing. The architecture wasunlike anything I had seen before. I had seen elven villages before, and had also once visited another elven capital and they were a completely different experience than the one we were experiencing right now. Just like they are between one another, Elven architecture is truly something unique compared to that of humans in the Land of Men. I know better than to lump all elven styles together, but so far, out of all the elven settlements I¡¯ve seen¡ªincluding Umbryan ones, Argyrian ones, and Ferron ones that I once had the honor of visiting the capital of¡ªthere is something undeniably distinct about elven designs, despite their differences from one another. They are all, without exception, very different from the human architecture I am used to. The city around us was predominantly made of wood, often with darker tones that seemed almost black, giving the entire area a subtle, cohesive appearance. The roofs were sometimes green or a rusty orange, lending a beautiful contrast against the wooden structures, while the vibrant colors of the environment¡ªthe blossoming trees and lush greenery¡ªbrought life to the city. The layout was fascinating, with tiered structures and winding walkways, reminiscent of something growing naturally rather than built by hand. Buildings were not stacked beside one another as in many crowded human cities but spread out gracefully, providing ample space between them. Every corner seemed to respect nature, blending rather than imposing upon it. Elven society, as I¡¯d come to learn, is almost always centered around a single capital. Unlike the Lands of Men, where towns and cities are scattered, the elven people believe in building and living collectively within a vast capital, which serves as their home and stronghold. Sure, there are small settlements like the elven villages I had visited before, but for the "true" elves, such villages are seen as pariahs. "True" elves, they say, are meant to live in the capital, under the protection of the Ancestral Tree¡ªthe sacred tree that stands as a sigil of the Patriarch. This tree provides a magical barrier that wards off monsters and invaders, making the capital nearly impenetrable. That''s the reason why when we approached the capital, we had to stop before the large magical tree. We wouldn¡¯t be able to pass through unless permitted by the Patriarch himself. From a human perspective, it might seem impossible for an entire elven family¡ªessentially a nation in its own right¡ªto live in a single place without facing overcrowding. The capital, an undeniably vast monocentric megalopolis, defied such expectations. This was possible because the city was expansive, with ample space within the protective domain of the Ancestral Tree. This allowed the elven people to expand comfortably without needing to crowd or stack their homes. Though subtle, the architecture clearly favored multifloored wooden housing, and there was an unmistakable obsession with height in this capital. The most opulent structures were always the tallest, yet none could compare to the Patriarch''s palace, which towered over the city, visible even from the southern corner where we were staying. The estate we were guests in was quite tall in its own right and belonged to an elf who held a position akin to that of a king under the Patriarch. Since each elven monarch has a unique title for such individuals, I simply refer to them as elders as more often than not, they are the oldest-looking elves around. *** After roaming for a while, we found ourselves walking through a mercantile corner of the capital, moving under the watchful gaze of Umbryan elves. Wanting to blend in we naturally dressed in outfit that wouldn''t get us excluded. Licht is wearing a layered robe consisting of a dark inner layer and a lighter, textured outer layer. The outer robe has wide sleeves and hangs loosely over the shoulders. A fabric sash secures the outfit at the waist, keeping it functional without adding unnecessary ornamentation. Aquaflora¡¯s clothing includes a layered garment with a wide sash tied at the waist. The outer fabric has a floral pattern covering most of its surface, and the colors shift between cream, pink, and teal. The sleeves are long and wide, with the ends draping past her arms. The outfit appears decorative but structured, likely intended for formal or semi-formal occasions. As for me, I¡¯m wearing a multi-layered outfit with an upper layer in cream and a lower layer in teal. The sleeves are long and open, extending outward when I move my arms. The waist is cinched with a sash, keeping the garment in place. Embroidery, mostly in the form of plant patterns, decorates the fabric in specific areas. The hem of the skirt is loose, designed to allow free movement. Nothing about it feels excessive, though it¡¯s clearly made to stand out compared to simple attire. But well if one looked around we based on the outfit alone fit in but I guess the outfit don''t matter when your face is literally a beacon. Yep, that''s a thing, we didn''t look like the local, and because we stood out like sore thumb despite the effort put in the outfit department. Umbryan elves are easily recognized not only by their characteristically long, pointed ears, but also by their uniformly straight, black hair¡ªa feature they share with both Solvan elves. In our old world, this combination of traits was often associated with the peoples of the far eastern regions. Here in Fiendfell, however, it is distinct to elves, giving them an appearance reminiscent of Asian features.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I with my silky smooth black hair could pass up for Umbryan if I cancelled my ears, but if an umbryan elf were to stare at me, they would quickly notice that I didn''t have the facial feature of noctil elves. As for Aquaflora, she''s a strange mix, being half Argyrian she partly possesed the common argyrian and umbryan''s feature but the feature she inherited from her mother side, in other words human side were still there, so she was stuck somewhere in the middle where she could''ve passed for umbryan had it not been for those ashy blonde hair of hers, which betrayed any attempt at blending in. As for Licht, with his red hair, and face he might have as well screamed, "I am an outsider," he would have been more discreet. With a rictus on his face, Licht remarked, "If I''d known it would have gone like this I would have dressed in something more discreet." I doubt even a hood would have made you any more discreet budy, I thought to myself, if anythng that would have made him look more suspicious. Smiling only at his remark but not commenting the three of us proceeded in our touristic endeavors, moving from stall to another, we weren''t looking for anything in particular just anything that would successfully catch our interest, for Licht and I, those were obviously artifact that can''t found in the human continent. Doing this brought me back to my early days upon reaching a big city I went on artifact hunt one that''ll provide me some measure of healing which ultimately brought me to the workshop belonging to the old elf named Charlie, it made me feel somewhat nostalgic. While I set out to find artifacts, I never intended to limit my interests solely to that pursuit. So when I came across a stall selling what appeared to be cosmetic products, I decided to investigate. A few young elves were sampling the wares, but as soon as they noticed my approach, they scattered, much to the stall owner''s dismay. I offered her a sympathetic smile. Quickly regaining her composure, she welcomed me, adopting the practiced demeanor of a seasoned shopkeeper. She began to present her products: perfumes¡ªsome of them quite potent¡ªskin whiteners, even treatments for teeth, and several other intriguing items. My curiosity, however, remained relatively unpiqued until she revealed a special box. Within it lay a small mirror adorned with golden filigree, which opened to reveal two sections. In the center was a fine paintbrush, neatly dividing the compartment into two halves, each containing a distinct balm of similar consistency and color. The vendor explained that one was a type of lipstick, the other a red under-eye makeup favored by certain elven fashions. I should note that, although I have long since embraced the fact that I am more woman now than ever before, I have never truly been drawn to elaborate cosmetics. I have always needed only the barest hint of enhancement¡ªafter all, I was already beautiful. For centuries, I found no genuine interest in makeup beyond the simplest necessities. It was not until some two hundred years ago, when I suddenly found myself caring for a young girl, that something within me changed. In caring for her, I discovered a new sense of delight and curiosity in these arts of adornment and self-expression that I''ve so far always overlooked. Holding the ornate cosmetics box in my hand, I couldn¡¯t help but recall the days when I came back from my many journey bearing all sorts of gifts. Together with Goblin and Bortz, I used to dress Blondie up¡ªperfumes, fancy dresses, makeup of all kinds. In retrospect, we might have treated that poor girl like a living doll, a thought that now made me chuckle softly. As I did, I wondered how these new cosmetics might look on her, only to have my musings interrupted when I spotted a girl out of the corner of my eye whose blonde-shaded hair faintly reminded me of Blondie herself. Aquaflora, noticing my sidelong glance, turned and asked apprehensively, ¡°What?¡± ¡°Do you hate cosmetics?¡± I asked, curious. She seemed surprised by the question. ¡°No,¡± she answered, though her tone lacked conviction. ¡°Well, in that case¡­¡± I took the opportunity at once, offering the makeup box back to the stall owner to hold while I reached for Aquaflora¡¯s chin, lifting it gently. ¡°You won¡¯t mind us trying this out on you then, right?¡± I didn¡¯t give her time to refuse. With a swift, practiced motion, I applied the lip gloss first and then the red tint under her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t squirm,¡± I chided, noticing her flinch. ¡°If you move, it¡¯ll smear past your lips.¡± She narrowed her eyes, wincing as if expecting pain. ¡°Why are you squinting like that? It¡¯s not going to hurt.¡± The truth was, even a five-year-old Sharonne had been more cooperative than Aquaflora was now. For someone who claimed to have nothing against cosmetics, her discomfort was obvious. Now that I think of it, it made sense, considering her swamp-witch lifestyle¡ªappearance was hardly her top priority. Once finished, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. Aquaflora finally opened her eyes and asked, in a small, sheepish voice, ¡°How is it?¡± I took the cosmetics box back from the shopkeeper and angled it so she could see her reflection. ¡°Well,¡± I said, inspecting her face in the mirror, ¡°red does look good on your lips, but it¡¯s not the best match for those lovely blue eyes of yours.¡± At that, I noticed her cheeks flush. ¡°You¡¯re blushing,¡± I teased, surprised and more than a little amused. ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± she insisted, bringing her hands up to cover her face. Her response only fueled my laughter. ¡°You can¡¯t expect me to believe that,¡± I said, leaning in a bit, ¡°not when you¡¯re reacting like that.¡± Her protests grew more fervent. ¡°I think you are,¡± I added, enjoying the moment far too much. ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± she repeated, this time turning around and attempting to wipe away the carefully applied makeup. I let out a weary sigh and reached into my belongings for a handkerchief, stepping closer to help clean her up. She squirmed again, but I held steady, much as one would with a fussy child. As I gently wiped the under-eye makeup away, she closed her eyes again, making me pause. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, opening them and noticing I was staring. I smiled faintly. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you remember it as well as I do, but the first time I saw you, you were with Sir Alphonse, hiding your face beneath that conspicuous hood. The very first thing I noticed were your blue eyes.¡± I continued dabbing away the red tint. ¡°They stayed in my mind for a long time back then, you know.¡± Her face flamed an even deeper shade of crimson, and I had to bite down on a grin that threatened to form. Oh, poor thing¡ªblushing like a firework just because of a few kind words. I supposed that living in the woods had turned her into a flustered little lamb indeed. This was going to be fun. Before I could enjoy it further, a sudden cough snapped me out of my reverie. It came from none other than Licht, who, once I glanced his way, averted his gaze, pretending not to have coughed at all. I returned my attention to Aquaflora, only to find she¡¯d reclaimed the handkerchief and was now wiping her face by herself. Turning to the shopkeeper, I declared. ¡°I¡¯ll buy this,¡± I said, tapping the cosmetics box. ¡°Also, do you have anything else that might suit my¡ªfriend over there?¡± B2. Chapter 20: Patriarch Linh After our tour of the capital¡ªor to be fair, a very small corner of it¡ªthe afternoon came to an end in no time. Following our stop at the cosmetics corner of the mercantile district, we resumed our quest to find magical artifacts. And heck, we found some¡ªan exciting prospect for Licht, given that artifacts often came in the form of swords, something he, as a knight, deeply valued. Unfortunately for him, none of the swords we found met the standards of a Dungeon Master as difficult to satisfy as he was. That being his standards, though high, weren¡¯t unreasonable. As a high-ranking adventurer back in the Land of Men, Licht had access to the finest artifacts the human continent had to offer. It was no surprise that trinkets sold in open markets couldn¡¯t pique his interest. ¡°Here I was thinking I¡¯d find something interesting in the Land of Elves,¡± he remarked, clearly unimpressed. Chuckling at his comment, I said, ¡°Got baited by the usual marketing hype around elven craftsmanship, didn¡¯t you?¡± In the Land of Men, artifacts from other continents were always highly praised. Products tied to dwarven lands guaranteed unparalleled quality, especially in weaponry. Elven artifacts, on the other hand, were lauded for their enchantments, which were said to be unmatched. Yet, what we encountered here didn¡¯t live up to the reputation. The weapons were poorly forged, and their so-called enhancements were weak¡ªclearly the work of novice enchanters experimenting rather than experts producing masterpieces. ¡°That¡¯s not entirely false advertising,¡± Aquaflora noted, ¡°but you¡¯re looking in the wrong place. You best seek the Ferron family for high-quality enchantments or craftsmanship.¡± I nodded, smiling as a waitress approached the table at the restaurant where we decided to have dinner before heading back to the elder¡¯s mansion. Since we still had a significant portion of our tourism budget left, we decided to splurge on a meal at this place. The restaurant, though tucked away in a discreet corner of the city, didn¡¯t feel very discreet at all. Many of the patrons kept glancing at us, a sensation we had grown used to by now. As the waitress left with our order¡ªconsisting of the most expensive dishes available¡ªI turned to Aquaflora and Licht, thinking of a topic to break the silence. Finally, I settled on one and asked, ¡°So, what do you think of the Umbryan capital so far?¡± Directing the question to Licht first, I fixed my gaze on him. He echoed, ¡°What do I think of it?¡± It wasn¡¯t a tone of musing¡ªhe already had an answer but hesitated to give it. ¡°It¡¯s unique¡­¡± he finally said. Aquaflora nodded but could tell it wasn¡¯t his full opinion. ¡°Unique, sure, but anything else?¡± ¡°Anything else?¡± he repeated, casting a quick glance around. After another moment, he added, ¡°Alright, but it¡¯s going to sound harsh.¡± ¡°Go ahead,¡± I encouraged him. ¡°Alright. I think they all look alike,¡± he said, switching to a language only I and my fellow Dungeon Masters understood. ¡°That sounds exactly like something Goblin would say,¡± I noted, shaking my head. ¡°I thought so too,¡± Licht sighed. ¡°Wait, what did he say?¡± Aquaflora asked, clearly not following. ¡°Are you sure you want to know?¡± I teased. ¡°It wasn¡¯t exactly flattering.¡± ¡°I want to know,¡± she insisted stubbornly, though a hint of apprehension flashed in her eyes. ¡°Alright.¡± Leaning in, I whispered to her, ¡°He said they all look alike.¡± The glance Aquaflora shot at Licht proved his hesitation was warranted. Yet, while the remark was undeniably blunt, it wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. While such words might better fit Goblin¡¯s typically blunt manner, Licht¡¯s observation was rooted in a certain truth. Elves, particularly the Umbryan ones, do share many physical similarities. Their uniformly black hair, without variations in shade, their pale skin, and their distinctively shaped eyes¡ªfeatures they share with their Argyrian cousins¡ªall contribute to their homogeneity. Yet, while these traits make them appear alike at first glance, each elf still possesses subtle, unique features. Calling them identical wasn¡¯t entirely fair, but Licht¡¯s point became more valid when one considered how their society¡¯s values and traditions seemed to enforce that sameness. Here¡¯s the thing: while elves are very similar to humans¡ªto the point that they can copulate and create fully functioning ¡°offspring¡±¡ªthere are fundamental differences between the two sentient races. These differences range from their system interface to their reproductive methods. Yes, I said reproductive methods. For humanity to reproduce, the presence of a male and a female is required. Elves, however, have an alternative. They can reproduce the human way, of course, but within elven families like the Umbryan¡¯s, reproduction can takes on a different form. And by "alternative," I mean it¡¯s not really a choice. If you belong to an elven family, you will be born that way¡ªthrough the elven monarch¡¯s sigil: the Ancestral Tree. An Ancestral Tree serves more than one purpose. Beyond its role as a barrier, it can also be used to create life¡ªelven life. Naturally, this raises many questions, especially for someone who grew up with a purely human perspective. But the system is simple: in a society like the Umbryan¡¯s, when a couple wants to have a child, they approach the patriarch for a blessing. If the blessing is granted, an elven child will be born through the Ancestral Tree and handed over to the parents to feed, raise, and love. This setup creates a peculiar dynamic. For the patriarch, every member of the family under his rule could be seen as his creation¡ªhis offspring, even. One could go so far as to view them as his desired clones, born from a power tied inherently to him. From an outsider¡¯s perspective, there¡¯s something unsettling, even dystopian, about such a system. But from the inside, this must feel entirely normal. For the Umbryan elves, this system is as natural as the life of ants: the working ants and their queen. Though the comparison might seem harsh, it isn¡¯t entirely off base when one considers what the patriarch gains from creating and perpetuating such a system. My point is this: knowing how they are born, even if the Umbryan elves don¡¯t share exactly the same face, you can¡¯t help but feel like they¡¯re all a product of the same source. They¡¯re all spawned from one individual. In that sense, Licht¡¯s observation wasn¡¯t particularly insulting. It was a fact, albeit one shaped by his knowledge and preconceptions. Still, there was no denying his comment was somewhat indiscreet. After glaring at Licht and then glancing around to ensure no one else had overheard, Aquaflora made a statement that took me by surprise. ¡°I guess I can¡¯t pretend I can¡¯t relate.¡± It took me a moment to quell my surprise. Once I did, I realized her comment made sense. Despite having lived in Quel''Thalas for hundreds of years, she¡¯d seen the outside world. Most likely, she¡¯d been shocked by it at some point. Prompted by curiosity, I decided to ask a question that had been lingering in my mind since our meeting with the patriarch and the envoys of the Argyrian family. ¡°I¡¯ve been curious for a while,¡± I began. ¡°When Lee and the others found you, you were living near a village in Argyrian territory. That wasn¡¯t always the case, was it?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± she asked. ¡°You once lived in the Argyrian capital, didn¡¯t you?¡± She stared at me for a moment before asking, ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°When we met the patriarch,¡± I explained, ¡°the Argyrian envoys stared at you in a way that made it obvious they either knew you personally or had heard of you. I might have believed it was the latter if I hadn¡¯t seen how you recognized them.¡± Now, here was the big question: how did they know each other? While no formal introduction had been made, it was obvious that as envoys, they must possess some measure of power to be granted an audience with the patriarch. A certain explanation came to mind, but the fact that Goblin had never reported this detail to me left me hesitant to accept it outright. If what I suspected was true, Goblin should have been able to figure it out. Yet, he hadn¡¯t mentioned it. Then again, his apprehension toward Aquaflora somehow made more sense if I was right. What didn¡¯t make sense was him not mentioning it. ¡°They,¡± she stammered, hesitating before falling silent as the waitress arrived with our meal. Once the waitress left, she sighed and explained, ¡°The three elves back then were the second and advisors of one of the patriarch family¡¯s clan leaders.¡± Each elven family has its own naming system. For convenience, I often refer to the elven equivalent of a king as an elder, as they are usually old and battle-hardened. Among the Lunor elves, their equivalent rank is known as a clan leader. In this case, the envoys were the second-in-command and the advisor of an elven clan leader. Aquaflora then went on to explain that their presence here, considering their respective identities, was tied to seeking help from the Umbryan family¡¯s Patriarch. That much was obvious. But on a deeper level, it seemed obvious to her that they weren¡¯t asking for help on behalf of all the Lunor elves. Instead, they represented their specific clan. After the Argyrian family patriarch¡¯s fall to madness, the powerful clan leaders united under him had split politically, each trying to seize control of the population left behind. Like a ship without a captain, the crew stumbled over one another, steering the vessel toward several directions at once, yet going nowhere. As Aquaflora concluded her theory about the current state of leadership in the Argyrian capital, I couldn¡¯t help but remark, ¡°You sure know a lot about Argyrian leadership.¡± Licht nodded, clearly in agreement. She was too knowledgeable. Even if she had lived in the Argyrian capital, as she¡¯d confirmed, that alone didn¡¯t explain the depth of her insights. If I were to ask a random Umbryan in this establishment, I doubted any would know their own family¡¯s politics as well as she seemed to know the Argyrians''.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°That makes sense,¡± Aquaflora said, almost nonchalantly. ¡°I was once part of it, after all.¡± --- After dinner, the three of us returned to the mansion where we were staying as guests of one of the Patriarch¡¯s elders. Bidding Licht and Aquaflora goodnight, I retreated to my room. There, I found my thoughts drifting back to what she had revealed. She had once been something akin to an elder to the Argyrian patriarch. However, she had relinquished that status, unable to adapt to the elven environment, and ultimately chose to live where Goblin and the others eventually found her. It was a surprising development¡ªone that neither Goblin nor Bortz had reported to me, likely because they hadn¡¯t figured it out themselves. I mulled over this new information, wondering how it might be of use, but my thoughts were repeatedly interrupted by a feeling of unease. It wasn¡¯t something¡ªit was someone. Glancing toward my door, I smiled and asked aloud, ¡°Can I ask something? Am I dealing with an assailant?¡± My words hung in the silence for a moment until a voice responded, ¡°What if you were?¡± ¡°I would ask you to at least let me get my shoes. It¡¯s not customary where I¡¯m from to fight barefoot.¡± The door opened, revealing my uninvited guest. As he stepped inside, I added, ¡°It¡¯s also improper for a male to enter a lady¡¯s room without a proper invitation.¡± ¡°That,¡± he said, his tone calm and composed, ¡°not bowing to equals, not fighting barefoot¡ªthat¡¯s a lot of customs.¡± ¡°What do you want me to say? It¡¯s another world out there. But since I¡¯m in your domain, I suppose most of these customs shouldn¡¯t apply. Wouldn¡¯t you agree, Patriarch?¡± The elf standing before me was tall, his long black hair cascading down his shoulders and back. Striking white strands interspersed the black, a unique trait not passed on to the elves he created. He wore a fitted crimson tunic adorned with intricate golden embroidery. His angular face, though calm in expression, carried an air of nobility and condescension. Towering over me, his gaze was fixed and unblinking. Remaining composed, I asked, ¡°What might bring the Patriarch to my room tonight?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve come to visit, naturally,¡± he replied. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be natural for a host to check on his guests?¡± Not at a time like this, or under these circumstances, I thought, though I kept that to myself. Instead, I chuckled pleasantly and said, ¡°As you can see, I am fine. We¡¯re having such a pleasant stay that we wish to tarry in your capital a little longer. Would you allow us to do that?¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡± he replied, his gaze unyielding. ¡°You¡¯ve not yet given me any reason not to.¡± ¡°I indeed haven¡¯t, nor am I planning to give you any,¡± I said with a smile. My gaze drifted to a small table where a board game was set up. ¡°Do you play, Patriarch?¡± He nodded and invited himself to the chair Licht had occupied earlier that day. Rearranging the pieces for a game, I noted that I had the white pieces, leaving him with black. As the game began, he made the first move and asked, ¡°What do you think of my capital?¡± ¡°As I said earlier, I think your capital is fascinating,¡± I replied, making my move. Ignoring my comment, the Patriarch made another move and followed it with a pointed question. ¡°I do not want that answer. We both know that¡¯s not what you really think. I want to hear your true thoughts.¡± ¡°What I really think of it, huh?¡± I mused, making a move to the left. He promptly anticipated it, immediately blocking my path on the board. Wasting no time, I added, ¡°Since you expect honesty, my answer is that I find your domain fascinating.¡± A smirk played on my lips as I attempted another approach in the game, only for him to block me again. ¡°But I don¡¯t mean that in terms of architecture, people, or even culture. No, I think it¡¯s fascinating because of the grip one single man¡ªwhat am I saying? One single elf¡ªhas over all of it. You.¡± Elves within families such as his domain are given life by him personally. But there¡¯s a reason for it¡ªa purpose behind his actions. It wasn¡¯t out of a desire to create a happy family. Elven monarchs, with rare exceptions, always end up building a family¡ªa nation of sorts. The purpose is the same reason Cleon has his domain ruled by kings and nobles, and the same reason Seraphim spread their faiths. There are gains to be made here. The first gain lies in the subjects, as we¡¯ll call them for convenience. These subjects are linked to their monarch¡¯s sigil, serving as a reserve of energy that the monarch can draw from in times of need. In other words, if the patriarch were to face a formidable opponent, he could draw energy from every single Umbryan under his domain. Similarly, the emperor can draw from his nobles, and the Seraphim from their devout believers. That alone is a compelling reason to establish and maintain a family. But for elven monarchs, there¡¯s an even more enticing benefit, unique due to the peculiarities of the system interface elves are privy to. When an elven monarch ¡°births¡± a child¡ªbecause it is the monarch, not the parents, who conventionally go through this process¡ªthat child is bestowed with heightened potential for the sub-affinity the monarch has mastered. For example, if a monarch achieved their status by investing 90 affinity points into the ¡°Earth¡± sub-affinity¡ªa branch of the elemental main affinity¡ªthe child will have an enhanced chance of unlocking that sub-affinity or an adjacent one, such as ¡°Water¡± or ¡°Fire.¡± This is particularly valuable to elven monarchs. Despite their elevated status, it¡¯s not uncommon for an elven monarch to lack access to an adjacent sub-affinity. Without access, they cannot invest affinity points to create an additional ancestral tree, let alone merge it with their existing one to create a more powerful sigil. However, if someone else in their domain¡ªone of their subjects¡ªmanages to unlock and master that sub-affinity, reaching the 90-point threshold to ascend to monarchhood, they can manifest an ancestral tree. At that point, the existing monarch can simply¡­ acquire it. Is it stealing? Perhaps. But hey you don¡¯t become or remain a monarch by being a good person. ¡°Where I come from,¡± I began, ¡°monarchs have domains. We have oath-bound subjects. But we don¡¯t have this level of control. We can¡¯t.¡± It can¡¯t happen in the Land of Men because power is split between the emperor and the three Seraphim. ¡°You wish for something like this in the Land of Men?¡± he asked, sounding genuinely curious for the first time. ¡°I do,¡± I admitted. He let out a soft ¡°mph¡± of thought. ¡°I thought humans valued freedom much more.¡± ¡°Oh, I do value freedom plenty,¡± I said, smirking. ¡°I just don¡¯t let others¡¯ freedom hinder mine.¡± My words earned me a difficult look from the patriarch, prompting me to add, ¡°But well, I¡¯m realistic enough to know that I could never achieve such control without defeating the current monarchs of the Land of Men.¡± ¡°So you admit it¡¯s impossible for¡ª¡± ¡°Not impossible,¡± I cut him off. ¡°Just very difficult.¡± The Patriarch sneered, his expression carrying a weight of condescension. ¡°You earlier mentioned being realistic, and here I was, thinking for a moment that you were.¡± ¡°What is the Patriarch referring to? I¡¯m a little lost here,¡± I replied, feigning ignorance. ¡°You talk as if the monarchs of the Land of Men are the first obstacle you need to worry about, but they¡¯re obviously not.¡± ¡°Oh? And what is?¡± Without a hint of sympathy, he dropped the answer, ¡°Your mortality.¡± The word struck like a blow, and I winced. ¡°That¡¯s a low blow, Patriarch,¡± I said with a bitter chuckle. ¡°Where I come from, it¡¯s considered unbecoming to speak of a lady¡¯s age. But¡­ you¡¯re right.¡± He was right. My greatest enemy wasn¡¯t the Emperor, the Seraphim, or even the other monarchs. It was time¡ªthe limited time I had left. He knew it, and so did I. How? The answer was simple: when he appraised me during our first meeting, he must have seen the state of my Longevity skill and deduced my predicament from there. Somehow, during this exchange, I hadn¡¯t noticed the game we were playing had panned out into a checkmate state. Letting out a sigh, I leaned back in my chair. ¡°As a monarch who has conquered the Spiritual affinity, how long do you think I still have?¡± ¡°Fifty years, perhaps twenty-five,¡± he said coldly. ¡°It¡¯s already a miracle you¡¯ve lived this long with your Longevity skill being so low.¡± ¡°That¡¯s grim,¡± I remarked with a bitter smile. ¡°I was hoping for at least another hundred, or at the very least seventy-five. But I suppose it can¡¯t be helped.¡± Laying back in his chair, the Patriarch said, ¡°I¡¯ve heard about you, former Queen Arianna. I must admit, I¡¯ve been intrigued for a long time, which is why I was eager to see you in the flesh. But when I did¡­¡± ¡°You were disappointed?¡± I interjected. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that exactly. But I started to wonder: what you did to your fellow King and your monarch, was that an attempt to level up your Longevity skill?¡± Well, if I¡¯m not being torn apart over here? I wondered internally. Out loud, I said, ¡°Would you believe me if I said I did it because I was simply working toward my dream?¡± ¡°So you¡¯re saying you genuinely tried to defeat your monarch by yourself?¡± I didn¡¯t answer immediately, but the grimace on my face confirmed his suspicion. ¡°Then I¡¯d say you¡¯re a fool.¡± ¡°For going after my dreams?¡± ¡°For believing you stood a chance against a monarch. I¡¯ll grant you that you¡¯re strong and that your title board is impressive. But regardless, a peon wouldn¡¯t stand a chance against a fully realized monarch.¡± I¡¯m being compared to a peon now? I chuckled internally. ¡°Even if you somehow won, with your Longevity skill being so low, you¡¯d never reach the level required to replace the monarch you wish to usurp. What would be the point? You won¡¯t stay long on your throne.¡± His words stung, but they weren¡¯t wrong. I didn¡¯t stand a chance against Cleon, much less the Seraphim, and even less the Immortal and Eternal Emperor of the dwarves, who were now confirmed as enemies. I acknowledged that. That¡¯s why, as a last-ditch effort, my plan was to lure Cleon into the Voidborne Catacomb, where I was confident Dungeon Master 00 would make easy work of him. Unfortunately, Cleon hadn¡¯t taken the bait. Raising my arms in a gesture of surrender, I said, ¡°I recognize my defeat.¡± He looked at me with a gaze that seemed to say, Why do I think that¡¯s not the case? To preempt him, I quickly asked, ¡°Now then, I think we¡¯ve talked a little too much about me. Let¡¯s talk about you. Let¡¯s be honest, if you don¡¯t mind the familiar tone. Since you¡¯ve uncovered something so intimate about me, I believe we¡¯re beyond formality. What I want to know is: what are you planning to do about him? Because he¡¯s coming here.¡± ¡°Him?¡± he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. ¡°Yes. My sources confirm it. He¡¯s sailing in this direction and will soon be upon you and your capital.¡± ¡°I am a monarch,¡± he said, his voice flaring with pride. I¡¯m not forgetting that, I thought before saying, ¡°So is he. But I can see you looking down on him.¡± His reasoning was understandable. As the apex of their respective affinities, the three monarchs of Quel¡¯Thalas were equals in strength. However, he was failing to consider something critical¡ªsomething he didn¡¯t know existed. ¡°Do not make the same mistake as me,¡± I warned. ¡°With your monarch?¡± he asked. ¡°No. With him.¡± At my words, his frown deepened. ¡°You¡¯ve fought him before?¡± ¡°Have I fought him before?¡± I echoed, rearranging the pieces on the board. ¡°No. I wouldn¡¯t call what happened a fight. More like a disagreement that could have developed into one.¡± He studied me carefully, seeming to accept that I wasn¡¯t lying. ¡°When?¡± ¡°A little less than two hundred years ago. He¡¯s far from a pleasant man, but he had the merit of being reasonable. I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s a principle he abides by anymore. As for his strength, he was already incredibly strong back then. So strong that I really didn¡¯t want to fight him. I can only imagine how much stronger he¡¯s become since then.¡± Finishing the rearrangement of the board, I looked up at him and asked, ¡° another game?¡± Interlude In a clearing, days away from the Aurian capital, a silver-haired elf stood among mangled bodies. He loomed over another elf, his hair equally silver, who was being savagely mauled by two creatures: a Frilled Devourer¡ªa large, eyeless lizard with a flower-like mouth¡ªand a Noctilion, a black, wolf-like beast adorned with a golden, crown-like protrusion. The first creature gnawed on the elf''s arm, while the other gripped his leg, eliciting a despairing wail that was swiftly silenced as the standing elf approached, a maniacal smile etched on his face. Extending his arm, a monstrous mouth appeared on his palm, dribbling a sinister liquid onto the struggling elf below. The corrosive fluid seared his flesh, rendering him unable to scream, only to writhe in agony. "Now you''re going to answer the questions I asked," the attacking elf declared. Regaining his ability to speak as the flow of Blightcoil¡¯s venom ceased, the tortured elf cried out indignantly, "You haven''t asked any questions; you just attacked us out of nowhere!" Pausing, the elf known as Goblin mused, "I guess you''re right. Now that I think of it, I haven''t actually asked you anything yet." "Mad...you''re mad," the other elf responded, horror-stricken. "Mad, I guess I am... Mad," Goblin replied jestingly. "Aren''t you an Argyrian as well?" At this question, the injured elf watched in terror as Goblin¡¯s expression morphed from jest to wrath. "Don''t ever compare me to any of you inbred trash. You all should just die, die, die," Goblin seethed, stomping on the bloodied elf while his beasts tore even more ferociously into their victim. In the midst of his assault, Goblin caught sight, in the corner of his vision, of a magic circle forming from an elf who, despite being severely injured, was still alive. The circle was moments from unleashing its power when a bolt of lightning struck from the sky, reducing the elf to nothingness. Looking up, Goblin saw Blondie hovering above on Leo the Caarghast. The creature descended gracefully to land before him. "I could have handled that myself, just so you''d know," Goblin remarked. "I know," Blondie responded, her expression indifferent, partly because of her visor. She then glanced at the tortured elf, adding, "You''re wasting our time." "Wasting our time," Goblin echoed, reflecting her words before concluding, "I guess you''re right."The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Without another moment¡¯s hesitation, his arm transformed into a worm-like monstrosity with teeth as large as fingers. In a few bites, the elf was no more, leaving only the limbs that Serge the Frilled Devourer and Bill the Noctilion devoured next. "That''s a good thing done," Goblin said, reverting his arm to normal. Turning to Blondie, he noticed her unease¡ªhidden well behind the visor but not well enough to escape his notice. "What?" "You''re sure we should have done this? These were meant to be Argyrian envoys to the Aurian family, right? And we just killed them. For no apparent reason." Goblin immediately thought of the latest update he had received from Dungeon Master 08. There were Argyrian envoys sent to the Umbryan family, and she believed there must also be some sent in parallel to the Aurian family with the same goal¡ªthe one to seek help from them. Her intuition was proven when, by a fortunate twist of fate, they stumbled upon these envoys on their way to the Aurian capital. At their sight, Goblin had acted, thinking eliminating these envoys would better their chances of appealing to the Aurian matriarch. Now, questioned by Blondie over his actions, he wasn¡¯t so sure anymore. "Since they''re gone anyway... Let¡¯s hope we''ll have an easier time convincing the Aurian Matriarch being the first to do so, don''t you think?" Blondie speculated. He could tell she was trying to be nice at this point so, "Yeah," Goblin replied, convincing himself nonetheless with her logic that was pretty much the exact same as his. Unlike Goblin and Blondie, Dungeon Master 08 and her group had reached their destination over a week ago, but they were still on their way. There were two main reasons for their delay. First, they didn¡¯t have the convenience of a Red Wyvern for transportation, a method they had utilized to arrive swiftly to their destination. Second, they had been instructed to take their time with the journey. Rushing would have been counterproductive, as their mission in particular, while important, wasn¡¯t urgent to the point of requiring relentless haste. Thus, they traveled at a leisurely pace, only increasing their speed when they¡¯d been informed by her of the existence of the Argyrian envoys. The news had prompted the duo to pick up their pace, realizing that the envoys¡¯ presence might complicate matters when it comes to the negotiation. It was really a surprise for them both to stumble upon them on their way to the Aurian capital. "That''s right, we did good," Goblin assured as they climbed onto the Caarghast''s back, the two bonded creatures merging back into him. "Yes,¡± Blondie chuckled, ¡°and that''s why I''m definitely reporting to Ma''am about what happened." "Eh, don''t do that," Goblin frowned.. "If you report me, you''d be snitching on yourself for doing nothing and even participating." This time she frowned. "That''s the truth, though," he grinned, extending his hand. "So let''s just agree that whatever happened here, never happened. Do we have a deal?" "We have a deal, but if any of this somehow reaches her ears, you¡¯re on your own," Blondie agreed, shaking his hand. "Deal." B2. Chapter 21: Stampede "Core classes for elves mean an entirely different thing from core classes for humans," I explained to Licht. "As you know, elves have access to a unique system section¡ªaffinity. As an elf, you would be able to invest affinity points into any sub-affinity. For them, classes are heavily reliant on those affinities." For humans, whether Highbreed or Verdenkind, one''s class determines the relevance and irrelevance of various attributes, the distribution of status points, and the type of skills and ability one would unlock. It''s similar for elves, except they have an additional parameter¡ªaffinity class¡ªwhich works in a different fashion. "You''re still following?" I asked Licht. He nodded, prompting me to continue. "Let''s take the common core class, Sylvan Enchanter. You might be tempted to think it''s the elven equivalent of a wizard, and you''d be right, as it makes an elf''s stats MP-reliant, focusing on Perception and Mysticism¡ªthe elven attribute equivalents of Intelligence and Wisdom. The skills they''re likely to unlock are either magic-type or spell-type. Another thing it does is increase the likelihood of unlocking a sub-affinity of a particular main affinity. For elves, Sylvan Enchanter is a core class because it boosts the likelihood of unlocking the arcane main affinity, while Memory Keeper, also an MP-centric class, is considered a subclass because it provides an increased likelihood of unlocking sub-affinities of several main affinities like Arcane, Artistic, and Elemental." "Now," I said before posing another question, "what are the five main affinities?" "Elemental Affinity, Artistic Affinity, Arcane Affinity, Nature Affinity, and Spiritual Affinity," he recited correctly. "Ding ding ding, you got them all. Now second question, what do these affinities have in common?" "What they have in common..." Licht echoed, falling into a ponder. "Come on, it''s not particularly hard to guess. It can just be found by the sound of their names." Since Licht seemed to struggle to figure it out, I answered on his behalf. "The answer is the fact that none of them sound like they''ll give you any physical boon." With the exception of Artistic perhaps, none of the main affinities inspire anything that''ll improve one''s physical might. In fact, it''s a set-in-stone fact that only a small minority of the sub-affinities improve one''s likelihood of unlocking skills and abilities related to physical prowess. This shows that elves, from a sub-affinity perspective, aren''t particularly advantaged in martial matters. In fact, they''re at a certain disadvantage. Their attributes lack a strength equivalent; they only have resilience, which is a bastardized version of vitality that slightly increases elven offense but really pales in comparison to the glorious strength attribute. Agility might increase martial might, but even then, it often manifests more as increased speed. "All that to say," I explained, "martial classes are kind of a black sheep for elves, and so are their weapons. It''s normal that you''ve stumbled upon any weapon that looked remotely interesting. Like I told you the other day, what you''ll find here is scrap, and the only remotely interesting things you might find here are enchanted artifacts, but even then, I doubt they''re of any interesting quality." Taking a sip of her tea, we were outside, in a random restaurant south of our guest mansion. Setting down my cup, I repeated, "If you want to wonder at elven craftsmanship, the Ferron family is where you''ll find it." Licht sighed and took a drink of his tea too, though clearly, it wasn''t to his taste. "Do you have a problem with your ''Trouble?''" I asked, glancing at the sword that I''d never seen him leave behind, save perhaps during their meeting with the patriarch. He shook his head. "She''s fine," he answered, patting the sword. "It''s just that I like to gather interesting artifacts, especially swords." "Oh," I responded, bringing a galette to my mouth. "I''m not really a hoarder myself, but I do understand it. I too like to browse at artifacts, especially magical ones. So, I take it you were expecting unique elven-made artifacts, weren''t you?" He chuckled self-derisively. "That didn''t go as planned, did it?" "It sure didn''t. But frankly, if we continue to look, or perhaps just ask for a good recommendation, we might find a shop that has something," I explained. Despite being on the lookout for anything remotely interesting¡ªbe it artifact shops, restaurants, or anything else¡ªwe never asked for recommendations for the simple reason that I didn''t want to. This is our third week in the Umbryan capital, and heck, there''s nothing more interesting for us to do in this place other than visiting the large capital at random. There was all the past time there was and fair enough it did just enough to keep us all busy, even Aquaflora, who''s expressed her dislike for the elven capital as it reminds her of her distressing time in the Argyrian capital. However, when I asked if she was ready to leave, she said no. As a representative to the coalition we were forming, her official duties were complete, and she could technically have returned to her tranquil home. However, she chose to stay. I suspected her decision might have been influenced by a reluctance to embark on the month-long journey back without our vessel, Veilleuse-19. But there was clearly more to her decision: we were here to persuade the patriarch to join our coalition, and she wants to see this mission through to the end. So, we waited, hopeful for something that would sway the patriarch''s initially unfavorable decision. "Well," Licht said, "it''s not like free time is an issue for us here." Oya, what was that, fellow Dungeon Master? Could it be that the sloppy time we''ve spent here got to you? Well, can''t blame you, but it''s not good to let go like that. I raised my cup of tea, suddenly noticing something about it. As the steam wafts up, mingling with the fading light, my eyes narrow slightly. The surface of the tea, barely perceptibly, is vibrating. It¡¯s so faint that under any normal circumstances, it would go unnoticed, but I was no ordinary observer. I set the teacup down with a soft clink against the saucer, my gaze fixed intently on the liquid. The ripples continue, each tiny wave a whisper of distant turmoil. Licht didn''t take long to notice my reaction. He asked, "A problem?"Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. "A problem, huh," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Not sure it''s fair to call this just a problem, but yes, something happened," I replied with a smile, wrapping up my beignets, before asking him, "Pay the bill." As soon as he had paid the bill, Licht followed me outside, where I immediately, with a single jump, proceeded to hurl myself at the top of the nearest and highest structure. Licht followed, without much care for the poor rooftop. "What is it?" he asked with a serious expression. "Is it it?" I nodded. "The Argyrian family patriarch is here, and with him, his stampede." At these words, Licht scanned the horizon, perhaps for the patriarch and the stampede I mentioned, but in my case, I wasn''t looking for that, for I knew that while it was upon this capital, it was still at least half a hundred kilometers away. "What do we do?" Licht asked. "What do we do," I echoed, before answering, "nothing, we watch what they do," I said, handing over a beignet as I took a seat to observe the scene. And sure enough, after about merely a half dozen minutes, something flashed in the southern horizon, but a quick look around would make one realize that it wasn''t just one corner horizon but all four horizons. In the faraway horizon, there seemed to be a fogged veil that, while looking like it was slowly approaching from the distance, was visible from the inhabited part of the capital. It was closing in fast from all directions. "That''s... that''s the ancestral tree, right?" Licht asked. "Yep," I nodded. "He''s shrinking it down, it seems," I said, seeing exactly the logic of the mysterious course of action. Human monarchs, their sigils upon reaching monarch hood, usually come in the form of a weapon, one that depending on one''s class can come in many forms. For elves, their monarch sigil comes in the form of an ancestral tree, one that has a purpose unique to elves and is shared by all elven monarchs. It''s the fact that the ancestral tree can be either used as a perfect barrier or a perfect prison. The latter is because it can make it so that nothing can make it in and out. Of course, just because it''s "perfect" doesn''t mean that it''s indestructible. It''s perfect in the sense that it is the perfection in the realm the wielder stands in. The ancestral tree''s ability to restrain something in or out is exponential to how strong the wielder is, and for elven monarchs, strength is often just the approximation of how many ancestral trees the wielder has acquired, be it by investing 90 affinity points into a sub-affinity or by outsourcing that job to one of its subjects or just by stealing it from another monarch. That''s just to say that as someone who has conquered most sub-affinities of the spiritual affinity, the ability to either entrap someone or stop someone from intruding into his domain has only an equal that of two other elven monarchs, the Aurian family matriarch and the one currently heading in this direction. I watched as the barrier shrank to the point where it stopped at the edge of where the capital habitation were. As it stopped, I saw something happening about the barrier that happened so subtly that it was almost imperceptible, like a light bulb that just slightly dimmed. The barrier''s gray lost a little of its foggy radiance. Putting myself in the head of the patriarch, I saw that the worst thing he could potentially do is allow the fight that''s bound to happen to take place here on his domain, because if it does, all these people would be trampled to death, and that''s not necessary because of the beasts that make up the stampede, but just the intensity of the battle there will be between the two monarchs. So the smart thing to do is to take the battle there¡ªto him and his stampede. Now, as a monarch, he''ll need his sigil to fight, but that sigil is currently being used to protect the capital. So will he go fight sigil-less? Nope. Then will he leave the capital barrier-less? Neither. So that left him with the only one reasonable alternative, the one to leave a portion of the ancestral tree here to do what it''s always done: protecting the elves of his domain. But being only a portion of it, it''s naturally not as potent as the full thing. If I had to estimate the strength he deployed for the barrier without it being a complete handicap for the battle he''s going to fight, I''d say that the barrier has the potency of at best half a dozen ancestral trees combined. That was a lot, but I doubt that was enough, but well, let''s just observe because that''s what I intended to do, just observe, to see what kind of "man" that Umbryan monarch is, how he compares to the Argyrian family patriarch, how he holds true to his belief that he doesn''t need the help of the coalition we offer, or, should he be proven wrong in his judgment, just how overinflated his pride was. "Did I miss something?" Licht asked as he watched the capital population take onto the street to march toward the center of the capital like ants through their colony¡¯s corridor to a common destination¡ªthe center of the capital. Only a minority were doing the opposite and making their way toward the southern edges; they were doing so at rapid speed, making it clear that they were the "fighter" portion of the population. "That''s his doing," I explained. "I think the patriarch gave a short explanation of the situation to his people through the link they share through the ancestral tree." ¡°I see,¡± Licht nodded. "Watching this, I think I finally understand Aquaflora''s aversion to this place. This is kinda creepy." I chuckled at the comment. That was a bit high for dungeon masters like us to think of anyone as creepy, but well, okay, I guess. "It was understandably creepy, I give, but clearly for elves who lived under this, this was most likely just normal to have such a link tying them to their patriarch. After all, from the moment they''re born, they have a relationship similar to worker ants to their queen with their monarch, so from their perspective, it''s normal. For Licht and me, I could understand finding it creepy, but at the same time, I found it particularly fascinating. Humans, even half-breeds like Aquaflora, seem kind of creeped out by the sight of such hive-like operationality, so I''m really curious how humans being subject to an ancestral tree would behave. Human monarchs have subjects just like patriarchs and matriarchs do, but theirs come in the form of an oath¡ªan oath that gives a system titles that come in the form of King, nobles, and such. Elven monarchs too get system titles, but they get theirs at the very birth. Theirs is part of their nature; it is, in fact, what makes their nature, so it''s not hard to understand why elves tend to be more connected to their power than humans, even with their oaths, are. Heck, look at myself; I spat on it plenty of times without ever suffering any consequences for it, so I was curious if an ancestral wielder tree gave a human a title because that''s something they can do as a monarch to a human. What kind of relationship would there be between the monarch and the subject? One like that of the elves and their monarch, or a conditional bond like the one that linked me to Cleon? I wanted to know. I was still thinking about it when I caught something in the corner of my eyes from the center of the city, where the patriarch''s estate was. Something flying approached at breakneck speed. As it closed in, the flying entity came into a slow flight, allowing Licht to behold what it was¡ªa large creature, one might easily assume to be a mythical beast as it was a creature similar in race as the loong Aquaflora is bonded with, save that this one had two things about it that made it clear that it was something entirely different. First, it dwarfed her bonded creature, making the size difference stark; her creature looked like a tiny snake next to a max-level Frostfang serpent. Even more pronounced was the difference in their forms. The creature, while shaped like a lloong was clearly not a real one but an ethereal manifestation, crackling with electrical energy. This spectral being was obviously a familiar¡ªone that belonged to the elf riding it¡ªPatriarch Linh of the Umbryan family. He clearly noticed us as he slowed his flight and looked our way. I stared back, expecting him to say something, but it seemed he had no intention of stopping. Understanding his decision from this, I chose to smile and wave, a gesture he barely acknowledged as he directed his phantasmal beast southward to battle. As he made it past the barrier, the words naturally escaped my mouth, "Arrogant fool." B2. Chapter 22: Stampede (1) "Arrogant fool," I muttered under my breath. He was the former because he thought he stood a chance to win the battle he had thrown himself into alone, and a fool because he left us here, not taking us with him. And it wasn''t because he would have had a better chance to defeat the Argyrian patriarch and his stampede with us¡ªI don''t think we would have made much difference. Rather, it was because he left us, total nobodies, with one of his most valuable assets: the population he had put to safety inside his domain. As it stood, if I chose to, I could slaughter all the people of this capital. No one here would be able to stop me. Just like Cleon the One and Only Emperor can draw resources such as MP, SP, and even HP from those who swore an oath to him, and Seraphims do the same from those who swore a vow of faith to them, an elven monarch can draw similar resources from their subjects¡ªthose bearing the title given by them¡ªthrough their patriarch ancestral tree. Should these title-bearing individuals be gone, he would lose one of his greatest battle assets. Here he was, letting them be enclosed with us. I had no particular plan on doing that, but when you literally put an easy meal near my mouth, I was tempted to bite it down. While it was still moronic, it would have been a less moronic decision for him to take us all to that battle he flew into. We''re still not going to win, but at least he wouldn''t have any reason to fear me pulling out what I pulled in the land of men by killing several of my monarch kings. Is he expecting me to follow him into this battle? I wondered, trying to understand the logic. Or did he grow fond of me and begin to trust me? I watched the dot the patriarch represented disappear on the horizon, unsure of his motives. "Sorry to disappoint you today, bud. No battle for us today," I said, casting a glance at Licht to my left. "Huh?" "I said there would be no battle for us today." "No, you said ¡®sorry for you¡¯, why?" "Oh," I said, smiling at him, "You thought you hid it. Look at you," I pointed at his hand clutching the pommel of his sword firmly. Despite his air of seriousness, at heart, he seemed somewhat of a battle monger, barely containing the excitement of a battle ahead. "I..." he stammered, letting go of his sword. "No worries, I don''t mind that. I''ve raised enough bloodthirsty and battle-yearning younglings to know that it''s a unique quality that you best have than not. Unfortunately, it''s not going to be put to use." "We''re not going to fight?" "Yes, we will observe, until¡ª" I paused, catching something out of the corner of my eye. Flying by fast, but nowhere as fast as the patriarch on his familiar creature, was Aquaflora, atop her broom. The little serpentine monstrosity coiled around her like a scarf, accompanying her throughout the entirety of her journey. She had made a point of concealing it, even though it, just like Veilleuse-19, was allowed into the capital. However, I had chosen to let Veilleuse-19 out of the Umbryan domain, while she chose to keep her living noodle hidden. "There you two are," she panted as she closed in, out of breath. "Hi," I greeted the girl we hadn''t seen since we invited her to come with us in our roaming early in the morning, only for her to refuse because she''d rather spend her time alone in her room, being a social recluse. "What are you two doing here?" she asked with a frown. "Us, we were taking in the view. Now I''m the one to ask, what are you doing here? And why are you so worked up?" Aquaflora responded, stammering as if not understanding my response, "I...this is him and his stampede heading over here, right?" "Yep," I nodded indifferently. "Then..." I cut in to explain. "The patriarch has already headed over to meet him." At that moment, Aquaflora looked toward the southern horizon with an uneasy expression. Just how much are you afraid of him, I thought, observing her reaction. But well, I couldn''t say I didn''t understand; she was one of the first to see the monstrosity of his and his stampede''s strength. No surprise that it left a very lasting impression on her. "You think he''s going to be enough?" Aquaflora asked. "Enough, huh? How about you give your opinion first. Do you think he will be enough?" Having difficulty admitting it, she shook her head¡ªa sight that would have undoubtedly stirred a negative reaction from any Umbryan that would witness this doubt of their monarch. But well, we''re being objective here, and thus I had to agree with her. "I think the same," I admitted with a shrug. "Then¡ª" "Then what?" I cut in again. "I don''t know why I''ve got the impression that you want my adorable little Licht over there, who wants nothing but peace and safety, to do something extreme." At these words, she seemed even more hesitant to say what she was clearly about to say. "You''re not going to help?" "Nope," I answered. "You''re just gonna watch?" I nodded. "Observe. Observing, that''s what I''m going to do." At these words, Aquaflora took real offense, clenching her broom as if she were on the verge of dashing off. "Heed my advice, since I see you''re about to do something really stupid," "I''m not¡ª" she started, only to be cut off again. "I''m not done," I interjected. "The outcome of this battle is already determined; neither you nor I am going to change any of it. Us interfering might just lead to something unfortunate happening to us. Heck, as much as it pains me to tell you, some of us are going to be a plain burden to him if we somehow manage to survive more than a minute in that battle. My point is that you, Licht, and I''ll add myself to the bunch, have no place in a battle between monarchs." It looked like she wanted to complain about this, but she was realistic enough to keep her ramblings in and accept my words as the bitter truth. "At this point," I explained, "the most positive outcome we''re to expect is him making it out alive from that battle, but that''s something he would have to do alone. He can''t and shouldn''t rely on our help. But we can definitely help," I pointed at the horizon he flew into, not particularly at it exactly but rather, I was pointing at the barrier that had shrunk to the inhabited edge of the capital. "To a monarch, there''s no more important resource than those bearing the title bestowed by them, to a patriarch, their subject. That''s why he left the barrier to protect its people, but I think he''s gravely miscalculated the danger of the one he went up against, and more precisely the stampede he is in control of." Realizing what my point was, she looked back in great concern at the capital where the elven population had gathered up, before asking, taken by panic, "You think they''re going to make it here?" "As strong as the patriarch thinks he is, I don''t think he has what it''d take to handle both the stampede and a patriarch of equal strength. He can only handle one. Wanna guess which one he''s gonna handle?" "The patriarch..." she responded. "What about the barrier he left behind?" I chuckled. "Do you really think it''s going to handle the full stampede?" Without giving her time to answer, I continued, "Well, we can only hope. Until then, the thing that actually makes sense is to do what these battle-ready elves over there are, I assume, doing¡ªholding it at the ready behind the barrier and hoping that nothing breaches it. But should anything breach through, handle it." "So...you''re gonna help?" Aquaflora asked. "Well," I said, casting a glance at Licht, "You heard that, my friend. It seems our yet-to-be allies might be in need of our help. Guess we have no other choice but to lend a hand. Sorry, I knew we were doing too much, but hopefully, they''ll understand our goodwill through that action," I said to Licht, who nodded, playing along in the masquerade.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. "Well then," I announced, activating my skill that in an instant made me don my battle gear, much to Aquaflora''s surprise. It was her first time seeing this form of mine. "Guess it''s time to go hold position along with the others," I declared, summoning my third fastest means of traveling¡ªa flying great sword¡ªupon which I threw myself onto after summoning another for Licht, riding it through the air like a surfer through the waves. As we arrived at the scene where the "front" was held up, we were met by an impressive amount of battle-capable elves gathered in one place. In a society like that of the elves, where everyone has access to the system, one might be tempted to think that everyone is a powerhouse in their own right, especially when compared to a society like that of humans, where having access to the system is a privilege that only a portion of the civilization has access to. But actually, no. It is in fact ironically due to the unique nature that allows the society to be as it is that it''s not the case. Sure, a large majority of the population has access to stats that make them superior to the average peon, but for the most part, most elves don''t make it past level 1-2 in their long, very long lifetime. The thing about leveling up is that it''s not something you can do in a safe environment; one has to be thrust into danger for it to work, which means that leveling is not something they can accomplish by just staying inside their safe barrier. They would have to go out there, fight monsters and risk their life for those sweet experience points. Just as it is in the Land of men¡ªwhere most Verdenkind choose peaceful lives over danger and adventure¡ªthe same pattern holds true here. Yet, because the Verdenkind are so few compared to the countless Peons, they are practically invisible. People rarely notice them; in fact, the only reliable way to identify a Verdenkind is by their occupation. Most often, they serve as handlers or, more commonly in recent centuries, as adventurers. When they don''t occupy these roles, one simply won''t notice them. Here in elven lands, where every individual has access to the system, the majority also favor long, tranquil existences, typically acquiring just a handful of skills and abilities. One of the easiest skills to obtain for elves born into a proper elven family is longevity¡ªan ironic twist, considering how highly esteemed the skill is for humans. Only a small, elite fraction chooses to push themselves, to level up and grow stronger. The proportion of these dedicated few is not unlike the proportion of peon Highbreeds in the human kingdoms. Now, that entire elite minority was gathered at the southern edge of the capital¡¯s protective barrier. They all stood apprehensively, gazing southward, where everyone could sense the tremors¡ªan earthshake¡ªominously rolling in their direction. I was hovering high up in midair with a better view than anyone above my floating sword, with Licht at my right and Aquaflora on her broom on her left. Casting a quick glance down, I caught sight of a silver amidst the rampart of black hair, the envoys from the Argyrians. Catching sight of the glimpse I threw down at them, Aquaflora started, effectively busting me. I gave them a polite smile. The moment I saw their silver heads here, I had a little concern about a certain thing they could have told the Umbryan patriarch about me, but I was pleasantly surprised to see that they hadn''t, most likely because they don''t know about me, as proven by the fact that the Umbryan patriarch was surprised to hear that I had a little falling out with the Argyrian family patriarch. Anyway, that''s a burden that was off my back when I realized that I was just overthinking things like a fellow dungeon master. After confirming that, I more or less forgot about their existence as, to be honest, them knowing that thing about me was the only thing I cared about their existence for. I heard that they were still around, waiting for the patriarch to change his mind, kind of like we did, but I never inquired more about it and didn''t know what else they were up to until now. But still, I''m surprised they have the gall to show up here considering who''s the one to blame for what''s going to happen here, I thought, but not voicing it as that might actually affect a certain girl of Argyrian descent. Exchanging a smile, I teased, "You look awfully tense." Trying not to appear so, she replied, "I''m not awfully tense. I''m reasonably tense. How couldn''t I when I see that?" She pointed from their vantage point at the approaching stampede. For most, it looked vague since it was some distance away, but with the evolution of my eagle eyes skill, I saw them clearly: monsters stretched across the landscape like an endless, undulating wave. Dust clouds rose into the air, kicked up by thousands of pounding hooves, claws, and talons, forming a hazy curtain that obscured details but added a sense of dread to the oncoming tide. Even from this distance, the sound reached them¡ªa low, rhythmic rumble, like distant thunder, punctuated by guttural roars and piercing shrieks. The monsters moved with wild, uncoordinated urgency, some larger beasts shoving smaller ones aside in their frenzied advance, while others darted erratically between the gaps. Their eyes glinted faintly in the waning light, pinpoints of fury or hunger, impossible to distinguish. The terrain ahead seemed to tremble, the grasslands rippling under the sheer weight of the charge. Trees in their path bent, broke, or disappeared entirely, swallowed by the sheer force of the stampede. "God..." Aquaflora bit her fist. "There''s more than last time." Of course, there''s more. Your patriarch didn''t waste any time in the past few months, I thought, but once again, I didn''t voice that out. "Chill out," I reassured her. "This is handleable, more than it would have been if we had to handle the Argyrian patriarch." "I guess you''re making a point," she eased up slightly. As the stampede was getting closer, so much so that it created a wave of unease among the onlookers and soon-to-be frontliners below, I watched as they rearranged themselves in formation. Yep, formation as the one that can be seen in medieval set movies. At first glance, one might think that such structured tactics would have no place in a world governed by a system where skills, status, and abilities could drastically vary, making traditional formations seem obsolete due to the vast power discrepancies among individuals. However, the condition of the oncoming confrontation actually fit the specific formation that was put down by the elves present. From the look of it, they smartly spread out in a long wave-like formation along the barrier, clearly intent on abusing its barrier quality to blast any monster that would get stopped by the barrier. And from the look of it in the distance, they weren''t going to lack targets for this strategy. There was enough monster part of this stampede for a ratio where an elf could handle ten at a time. So the question today was really going to be how effective each elf was going to perform against these aberrations outnumbering them ten to one. And we were going to figure that out soon enough as the creatures were upon us¡ªwell, to be exact, they were upon the barrier, crashing against its gray fog-like boundary, giving the impression that the monsters were just going to make it through. But no, the barrier surprisingly held well, not even shaking as the monsters, ranging from animalistic monsters to mythical beasts, from scaled creatures to furred ones, bipedal to quadrupedal ones, each crashing with absolute madness onto the barrier. So much so that I have to admit for the first time in my life I was impressed by madness itself. To think that an authority did that, I mused in wonder. Because yes, the stampede was the effect of an authority, not something that is manifested by the might of the Argyrian patriarch. It is something that is only possible because the authority he holds makes it possible, as the authority Rule and Overrule, allowing its wielder to instill their will onto a living being, in this case, the monsters that currently make up this stampede. At such a sight, I finally see what Goblin talked about. This is unarguably the most powerful authority we ever stumbled upon. I better hurry myself to recover that authority, I told myself, watching the elves launch their offense at the stacking monsters. Working the way it is, as either a perfect barrier or perfect prison, in this case, the former, while monsters couldn''t make it in, anything from within could make it out there, including the attacks of all sorts, but mostly magical attack, unleashed by the elves. The formation they put seemed rather effective as corpses piled up beyond the barrier, perishing against the onslaught of elven attacks. "Oh, they''re holding pretty well," I mused out loud at the sight. "Weren''t you going to help?" Aquaflora asked, clearly she would have swooped into the action earlier, but at the sight of us just standing there, she didn''t, which only now finally hit her. "We are, but as much fun as it looks, I don''t think that''s something I¡¯d like to partake in," I answered. ¡°That however,¡± I added, pointing into the gigantic trail of dust behind the first wave of monsters¡ªa second, far more ominous surge of monsters. Behind the already very dust-churning tide of smaller beasts, behemoth-sized creatures loomed, their sheer presence dwarfing the frenzied throng ahead. While far less numerous, their silhouettes painted an even more terrifying picture against the horizon. Each step, each movement, sent tremors through the earth, amplifying the already deafening cacophony of the stampede. The diversity of these giants was staggering, no two alike. Some trudged on heavy, lumbering legs, their mass breaking the ground beneath them with each step. Others crawled, grotesque limbs clawing at the earth and kicking up debris that swirled into a literal dust storm in their wake. Flying beasts soared overhead, their massive wings stirring gales strong enough to topple trees, their screeches sharp and grating even at this distance. One behemoth was unmistakably arachnid¡ªa nightmare for any arachnophobe. Its chitinous legs stretched impossibly high, its segmented body glinting ominously in the light, as if armoring a knight of pure terror. Another moved like a reptilian tank, built with a thick hide and a broad, horned snout reminiscent of a triceratops, though its gait was heavier, more deliberate. My familiarity with dragonoids allowed me to recognize it for what it truly was: a drake, a creature like Veilleuse-19''s general draconoid species. Trudging together in this direction, the creatures embodied literal chaos, one united with a strangely unified purpose to destroy, just like the first wave, but there was an undeniable difference. These weren¡¯t small fries. These weren¡¯t creatures sent to overwhelm or distract. They were the main event. In fact, I wouldn¡¯t even be surprised if some of these behemoths were primes¡ªthe system¡¯s designation for the strongest monsters in their respective categories. Primes were the monster equivalent of guardians to dungeons, or monarchs to the sentient races. These were creatures that defined their kind, the pinnacle of strength within their category. At my answer, Aquaflora sank into silence, understanding my point. I flashed her a smile that was both meant to be teasing and reassuring, one that she in her restlessness quickly did her best to ignore. She''s eager and that''s a good thing, but I''d say she''s not very good at thinking straight under stressful situations. Gotta fix that soon, but well, we can address that later once we''re done dealing with the issue at hand... I was about to make my first move of the battle when very suddenly something from across town caught my full attention in an instant, noticing that Licht asked, "A problem?" I looked at him, but as our gazes met, his gaze was literally being dragged to the barrier that, out of the blue, experienced a wave of cracks that seemed to emanate from the other side of the capital and spread in an instant, causing the barrier to collapse before everyone''s eyes. In an instant, the barrier that had been protecting the capital from the stampede''s monsters and holding them back allowed them to instantly spill into the domain a breath earlier protected. "What the fuck was that?" B2. Chapter 23: Stampede Serpent "What was that," Aquaflora reacted, mirroring Licht''s and everyone else''s shock. In an instant, something happened that shattered the barrier that had held so well, even with the viciousness of the stampeding monsters crashing into it. It had held until that ripple from across the capital; then, in an instant, everything was thrown into chaos. The monsters that had been held off by the barrier were now allowed much closer, to the dread of the elves in formation. Panic spread, though the "elders," being more astute and experienced, immediately tried to contain it. But truthfully, could you blame them for their panicked reaction? The barrier they had so much faith in¡ªthe same one that had been holding back these creatures that only dreamed of tearing them apart¡ªwas shattered before their very eyes, allowing these same creatures to crawl, dash, and fly their way toward them. The sight of such chaos and naturally the bloody mess that followed as the invading monsters reached the panicked front line compelled Aquaflora, without much hesitation, to rush in to help. Seeing Aquaflora''s actions, I glanced at Licht, who was holding¡ªno, at this point, literally clenching¡ªonto his sword, overcome with an urge to join the fight but still managing to restrain himself. Glancing back like a very obedient pupil, he asked, "What do we do?" "Join the fight, perhaps," I responded, "but I don''t know about you, I don''t feel like joining that fight," I declared pointing at the chaos below. Given the specialties of my classes, a chaotic close-combat battle is far from ideal. I''m better suited to a grander arena, ideally facing a manageable number, perhaps in the single or, at most, double digits. The sheer volume of opponents here was overwhelming. True, these monsters were low-level and easily dispatched, but that didn''t mean it would be easy under these conditions. It was particularly tricky for me to engage effectively, considering I couldn''t just obliterate the area without risking the lives of our "allies". In essence, intervening would be more trouble than it''s worth, and I''m not fond of unnecessary complications. "Besides," I started before explaining, "I think we have a big problem on the other side of the capital. Someone should go check it." "We''re heading there?" Licht asked, with repressed impatience in his voice. Upon being asked that question, I glanced at Aquaflora, who, along with her little noodle now in a much more threatening form, was engaged against the monsters. Coming to a decision, I declared, with a sigh, "Go help her. Make sure she doesn''t die. Kill as much as you can, but should you arrive at your limits¡ª" "I withdraw." I nodded with a smile, "This is not our fight. This is an outcome chosen by their patriarch. Regardless of the outcome, just make sure to stay alive." "Understood. Is that all?" "Yes, it is," I said before telling him, "Have fun." He didn''t answer; he only gave a nod at my words, then drawing his sword, thrust himself into the battle, where he quickly began hacking, stabbing, and bisecting his way through monsters. "Woah," I marveled, "to think you were repressing so much bloodthirst behind those serious airs." At the sight, I couldn''t help but think that he, Goblin, and Bortz should really get along, but between him and Goblin, it took off on the wrong foot. I sighed, bringing my focus back to what was currently happening, "I did say I''m going to check on what''s happening on the other side of the capital, but I can''t really just leave, can I?" Despite most likely giving a very bad image by simply not interfering and just watching them struggle, I couldn''t let my image be worsened by performing what might come across as me fleeing the battlefield, could I? I had to rack up some contribution that would fix my image, and there in the distance, getting closer and closer, I saw exactly what I could make use of. Atop my floating sword, I had it fly past the fighting elves and monsters below, past where the barrier used to be before it shattered, closing in on the approaching second wave of monsters. As I flew, flew till I reached a distance of a kilometer or so from the behemoth-sized monstrosities, I reached my arm out and summoned the change that made me switch from mage to the class I currently am. The only reason I chose mage in the first place was to see what other magic-type skills I could unlock. Doing so, I was able to unlock two other skills besides the one I already possessed: ice magic and curse magic, these two new skills being wind and water magic. I leveled them to the highest level and took advantage of every skill-wise opportunity I could as a mage. Immediately upon reaching level 75, which is the level, like 25, where one can initiate a class change, I did a class change, changing my core class to monk, for that was the plan from the moment I chose mage as a secondary class. The goal of this maneuver was simple: to rake in the benefits of a mage and keep them even when I made my transition to monk. It was a risky bet as it came with the risk of having my mage skills balanced, but luckily for me, only skills that were balanced or purged¡ªas it''s sometimes easier to put¡ªwere skills that I didn''t care about losing. What mattered to me was that I kept the magic-type skills. What I did is a known maneuver, but it''s one that is avoided by most for the simple reason that it''s very risky; more so than having all one''s skills that one has acquired through 25 levels be purged for a bunch of level 1 skills because yes, when my level 75 mage self turned into a monk, all the skills I unlocked were those of a level one monk. If I were a level 25, it meant that I would be a level 25 highbreed with the status of a level 25 highbreed but with the skills and abilities of a level 1 highbreed. As a level 75, I still had 50 levels as a hexcaster to clutch, but without it, I would have only had level 1 skills that I had to level up, and level up I did, I did for the past 50 years, and I do remain level 75. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. How so? The answer was simple. Because I had struck a very unique deal with an eldritch being that could stop me from harvesting experience. And for what purpose would I do that? Also simple. For the purpose of making up for the loss there''s been by becoming a monk only at level 75, because, of course, I was lagging behind by becoming a monk so late midway through, this lateness manifesting mostly in the level of my skills, so I take time to fix that. It took 50 fucking years, but finally, here I am with not just fully functioning additional mage skills but also a monk''s special class, because I didn''t just become a monk upon reaching level 50, no, I''d also chosen a monk special class like I did sorcerer once by choosing Hexcaster as a Special Class. The class I''ve chosen: Weaponry Ascetic. Now, as my arm waved over the monstrous behemoths, giant magical swords, lances, and spears materialized above them, suspended in the air like the wrath of the heavens. With a whisper, I unleashed my ultimate technique. ¡°Judgment of the Firmament: Arctic Oblivion.¡± The weapons fell like divine retribution, piercing the earth and striking the monsters with devastating precision. Each impact was an earthquake, shaking the ground violently, while the resulting explosions roared like a billion panes of glass shattering simultaneously. A cold mist billowed out, spreading rapidly and freezing everything it touched in a crystalline frost. As the mist dissipated, the devastation became clear. A mountain of ice stood where the second wave had been, jagged and massive, glinting under the pale light. The behemoth-sized monstrosities¡ªonce embodying unstoppable might¡ªwere entombed in the icy monument, their forms twisted and frozen in eternal stillness. [Level Up Interface] Experience requirement met. Congratulations! You''ve Leveled Up! Weaponry Ascetic Lvl.26> Attribute Points Earned: 15 ¡ºExpand¡» After that little interruption that appeared in the corner of my eyes, the battlefield was silent for a brief moment, save for the distant cries of those still fighting. I hovered, taking in my handiwork, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Not bad, at least that wasn''t a waste of so much, and that should be just flashy enough to not flag me as a deserter," I muttered before noticing a lone behemoth flying, as if on fire, from where the others were coming. It came screeching and with ill intent, diving straight at me. But in that moment, standing on my sword, I saw something gigantic, almost as much as the behemoth, if not bigger, flash past from behind and immediately initiate aerial combat. Well, ''aerial combat'' was a big word; from the moment they collided, what happened next was an aerial massacre that remained in the air for a dozen seconds before the lifeless and headless body of the flaming bird fell to the ground, while the red wyvern made a turn to meet me again in a series of screeches, "I''ve missed you too, girl. Nice to see that you still got it," I smiled at the sight of Veilleuse-19. The red wyvern responded with a screech. "I would have loved to fight together again like we used to, but unfortunately, I have to go back to the capital, and I don''t think it''s a smart idea to take you there. I''m gonna need you to stay here again, okay? Better yet, go help Licht, Aquaflora, and the others. Just make sure not to get mistaken for one of the stampeding monsters." Letting out a strident sound, Veilleuse-19 made a turn, just like I did, headed toward the capital to help everyone against the creatures. Not even sparing the embattled elves below, Aquaflora, or Licht a glance, I flew at high speed past them, my destination where what shattered the barrier came from. Atop my sword, with the help of my wind magic, reaching supersonic speed, it took less than half a minute for me to reach the other side of the capital, where I arrived at a scene of utter chaos. The entire northern corner of the capital was in shambles, a display of unprecedented destruction making one immediately think that perhaps here should have been where the focus should have been. For there, in the middle of the urban area, were monsters, behemoths in size much like the ones I smote with my [Judgment of the Firmament]. However, these creatures were different. While the earlier behemoths, despite their varied appearances, shared a singular destructive intent, here the scene was chaotic. Instead of a unified onslaught, these behemoths were embroiled in conflict among themselves, with several of them ganging up against one. Several monstrous behemoths were locked in a violent struggle against a singular adversary. The battle was already in full swing. Towering over the city, four colossal creatures clashed with a formidable adversary: a giant serpent with piercing blue eyes and gleaming white scales. One of the challengers was a golden flame-infused bird-like creature. That majestic creature was not in the sky; no, it was stuck between the maws of the gigantic serpent, as it tried to escape. The creature''s feathers were matted and bloodied, screeching in agony. The bird¡¯s cries pierced the air, a desperate plea lost amidst the chaos of the clash. Nearby, a grotesque reptile with bat-like wings unleashed long-range attacks, along with another creature, a spindly spider, its body fragile-looking yet unnervingly large, launching volleys of lightning. The serpent, still clutching the screaming bird in its jaws, easily dodged the combined assault, slithering past the corpse of a giant monkey-like behemoth. This creature, largely dismembered, lay defeated in a corner of the city¡ªa grim preview of the fate awaiting the bird-like creature in the serpent''s grasp, which was visibly losing its vitality. Seeing the long-range attack of its peer not working, an armored lizard came closing in fast but just as it did, it came to a mysterious halt. Rising to the bold lizard''s eye level, and even staring it down, the crawling white serpent finally landed the killing blow on the bird-like creature, snapping its body into three chunks, one of which it gulped before immediately slithering to his next target. Releasing what halted the armored lizard from closing in, the serpent locked it in a strangulating embrace as it came biting onto the reptilian creature''s throat. Refusing to go like the bird, the eight-legged armored lizard unleashed a powerful frost explosion that engulfed the surroundings with ice. After that desperate attack, there was a moment of silence as the two other behemoths circled apprehensively around the icy prison that had formed by the explosion. In a sense, that attack reminded me of the secondary effect of my earlier attack, but unlike my attack that turned out fatal for its targets, this one revealed that it was not effective, as the serpent behemoth broke free of its prison of ice. The creature''s jaws closed in on the flying behemoth, bringing it down in a loud thud that shook the earth. Seeing this as his call to attack, the scrawny spider-like creature unleashed a lightning breath attack that the serpent countered by yanking the creature it had catched mid-flight onto it. Scrawny looking as it was, it was knocked down by the weight of the much more imposing reptilian creature that, in that serpent attack, lost its wings. Wasting none of that opportunity, the serpent closed in on the two knocked creatures and finished off what it began with a strange attack that caved in the whole surrounding more and more until there was nothing left of the creatures but a gory puddle. Having watched that battle through, I stood there atop my sword thoroughly impressed, and it was then, as the dust settled over the ravaged cityscape, the serpent reared its head, victorious, its blue eyes flashing with triumph. I believe it finally noticed my presence, as in that moment, I felt it pause and stare back. The staring went on for a moment until suddenly ¡°it¡± was upon me. B2. Chapter 24: Stampede Serpent (1) A moment ago, I was locked in a staring contest with the behemoth-sized serpent, gazing into its blue, eldritchly intelligent eyes when, in the very next instant, it thrust forth with a speed that didn''t fit its size. Then, as quickly as it threw itself, it disappeared, only to reappear not in my view. What came into my view was the inside of its mouth closing in on me. Reacting fast, I blossomed ice clusters that stopped the serpent''s large maw from closing on me. Cracks spread on the ice surface as the snake''s maw pressed onto the ice. It wasn''t going to hold long, but that was fine as the half-second window it offered allowed me to get out of the serpent''s large mouth and fly up. "Since we''re doing this," I summoned swords, different from the first skill I ever had of the same type, "Frost Sword Conjuration." These weren''t made of ice but instead spiritual weapons, a type I have had access to ever since becoming a Weaponry Ascetic. This was a main theme of the special class: Weaponry Ascetic, a subclass of monk that makes the wielder good at summoning spiritual weapons. I unleashed such weapons at the serpent, which at this point crushed the ice I''d summoned. Despite their size, the spiritual swords fell fast onto the serpent, but once again it happened, as if momentarily phasing out of existence, the serpent disappeared causing the lances to continue their descent and crash onto the capital, making me realize that I should perhaps start to be a little more cautious with my attacks. In any case, not even a couple of seconds had passed after my spiritual swords missed their target when the same notification as earlier appeared again in the corner showing the skill that allowed it to close in on me so rapidly and evade my attack. [Identification Lvl.10] Description: This ability allows the wielder to manipulate their size at will by harnessing their mastery over gravitational forces. By compressing or expanding their body, they can achieve extreme size shifts without altering their physical density or structure. Active Usage: - Expand: The wielder increases their size, gaining massive strength and gravitational pull. This form can crush enemies or fortify their surroundings with immense pressure. - Contract: The wielder decreases their size, becoming faster, harder to detect, and more precise in their movements. This form enables them to evade attacks or infiltrate tight spaces. Passive Effect: The wielder''s control over gravity ensures they maintain their mobility and agility regardless of size. As the creature, having resumed back to its original size, hissed at me from the ground, I laughed at the sight of the ability being used in such a way. "Hahaha, let''s do this," I shouted as I ascended higher, finally getting into this battle against the monster that the Umbryan family had thrown everyone into with his foolish arrogance. Without much concern for the mental note I made earlier about holding back with my attacks, I activated one of the rare jinxes in my arsenal, before manifesting a spiritual sword hanging vertically above my head. Through the jinx, I confirmed that there were no elves to hold back my punch in this corner of the capital, just buildings. So really, no reason to hold back from the fun. I summoned more spiritual weapons and unleashed them at the serpent. As the serpent coiled back and literally threw itself at me, using the same ability, this time it took a subtler size but not to the point that it disappeared from view. It took a size that allowed it just enough to slither past the hail of giant projectiles hurled at it. But then, just as the last one closed in on it, it took back its conventional size to arrogantly stop the projectile by biting down on it. "Bold," I sneered in amusement, clenching my fist then activating the parameter the projectiles came with, like the one I unleashed upon the second wave of behemoths. The projectiles I summoned through Judgment of the Firmament came with a little elemental infusion: obviously, ice. Just like the projectile still in his mouth, most of the projectiles that he had just evaded exploded, engulfing the whole area in ice. It was nowhere as potent as the attack I unleashed upon the second wave, which cost me easily over 10% more MP, but the explosion of ice was enough to completely engulf the serpent without overdoing it, as I didn''t want to waste too much MP for nothing when the serpent could pull exactly what it pulled out in that moment. Just as I had predicted, the attack produced enough ice to completely engulf the serpent, but in that lost moment, it unleashed a skill that effectively protected it from having the fate of being thoroughly engulfed. My attack had blossomed into a dense amalgamation of ice around which the snake was encased in a spherical force field that kept it unharmed by the ice. "Oh," I started but before I could add anything else, I saw my identification skill notify me of a skill and not even a second later felt the effect of it as it dragged me down to the ground. I, with my sword, landed hard to the ground so much so that a circular, deep crater formed around. This was the kind of attack that would have been my bane in my hexcaster days. Now, no longer just a hexcaster but a Weaponry Ascetic, a monk subclass, I was fine. So, the moment the effect of the skill vanished, I stomped the ground, throwing myself above the crater. But the moment I made it out, I was welcomed by the serpent''s gaping maw. This time it was not to close on me but rather to unleash an attack. Taking that attack directly to my face, I was literally being thrown across town, my uncontrollable body crashing against and through buildings due to their wooden structure having an easier time crashing against and through. After crashing through the seventh building, I decided to recover from that, to come to a halt. I called forth the evolution of the skill that allowed me to earn the title Chainweaver, aka the title I was most proud of, and the skill that steeled my mind on taking that class change bet: [Chains of Permanence] Black chains erupted from within me and from the array of magic circles that suddenly materialized around me. What should have been a violent stop turned surprisingly gentle as the chains caught me, suspending me midair. There, dangling in the stillness, I spotted an object hurtling toward me¡ªa literal house, undoubtedly flung in my direction by the serpent. With lightning-fast reaction, I swung the chains at the unexpected projectile, my chains bisecting the house into two equal parts. I didn''t even get to enjoy what I just did before I saw more houses being thrown. Swinging my chains, I disposed of them. Originally, I unlocked [Ethereal Chains] when I reached level 42. At first glance, it seemed like a rather bland skill, especially when compared to the other skills I had, like Cursed Frost Sword Conjuration and the rest of the Cursed Frost Weaponry skillset, which were far better, more convenient, and higher level. Ethereal Chains allowed me to control magically summoned chains, and while I had full control over them as if they were an extension of myself, they lacked additional effects or magical damage capabilities, unlike the Cursed Frost Sword Weaponry skills. Even the physical damage they could inflict was subpar. But that''s only if you use the skill incorrectly¡ªby that, I mean using it standalone without combining it with other skills.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. The real value of Ethereal Chains lies in a subskill that makes them an excellent conduit for magical skills, specifically magic-type skills like ice magic. They are particularly compatible with all my available curses and a skill I would unlock three levels later: curse magic. This magic-type skill allowed me to use all forms and expressions of curses, which I could then channel through the chains summoned by Ethereal Chains. Upon choosing mage as a secondary class, I acquired two more magic-type skills to use with these chains, enhancing their effectiveness. When the skill evolved into its latest version, [Chain of Permanence], its physical effects improved further when I transitioned from Hexcaster/mage to Hexcaster/Weaponry Ascetic. This made it my favored skill for two main reasons: one, because I was already accustomed to wielding it, and two, because it addressed one of my biggest weaknesses. After dealing with buildings being thrown at me, I next found myself facing the snake, which came slithering rapidly toward me. Clenching my fist, my black chains wrapped tightly around it, enhancing my grip and strength. I poised myself and welcomed the slithering snake with a response I had only managed to muster the courage and power to use against formidable opponents in the past fifty years: using my fist to land a powerful punch. The punch, earth-shattering and powerful, brought the creature to a violent halt, but as violent as that punch was, I knew that what my fist met wasn''t the serpent''s body but rather the barrier it erected to protect itself in the last moment. The barrier gave out as my chain, conventionally black and crackling with a glacial infusion, whipped on their own and shattered the barrier. But before I could make use of the opening that it was, something happened. Contorting its body, the serpent whipped its tail at me, who, being under the effect of his skill, was pinned in place and could only watch as the tail whipped viciously at me, only to be stopped by my chains, which allowed me enough time to activate a superior variation of an old skill. I summoned four moon-like spheres between us, which for one second straight gained in size only to suddenly explode, releasing a potent and highly pressurized mist that effectively cleared the area and engulfed it in mist. Without its barrier, the serpent tasted the effect of [Lunar Cataclysm] fully. But let''s be honest, the best that could have done is release me from the effect of [Directional Gravity Control], which pinned me in one spot. And that assessment was proven right when, amidst the mist, I saw a series warning flash from my identification skill. With the help of ¡°wind magic¡±, which I called forth without a magic circle through my skill, Zenith of Sorcery, formerly Unbound Sorcery, I flew up to avoid the attack at random from the serpent. As the cold mist cleared, which it rapidly did with the rate at which the serpent fired its gravity beams, from midair, I locked in an intense staring contest with the serpent. This was only broken as the serpent''s gaze momentarily left me to go to the southern horizon. Understanding that something must have happened, something that had to do with the battle between the patriarchs, I too looked into the southern horizon but wasn''t able to see or sense what could have had it look that way. The moment my eyes went back to the serpent, I saw in the corner of my vision a warning coming from my identification skill. I watched as the gravity changed, houses and habitations being torn apart by what the serpent unleashed. Considering the preparation it made, the serpent was about to strike a powerful blow, one that from the look of it was going to end this all. With a smile, I took on the challenge, for that''s what it looked to me. "Since we¡¯re doing this," I said, "Let''s really do this!" Activating all the skills I believed I would be needing to respond in kind when, locking eyes with the serpent, I saw in the corner of my vision countless black dots in midair, which made me frown, then grimace when I realized what it was. "Crap," I cursed, realizing then that the black dots were¡ªpeople, well, to be exact, elves, the same ones that had come to the center of the capital for safety. They were now floating high up in midair because of the skill the serpent unleashed, which affected a large portion of the capital. More so, without me actually noticing, it seemed that our battle, which initially took place in the northern corner of the capital, had taken us toward the center, where the elves were taking refuge around the Patriarch''s palace, where they''d been promised safety. They definitely weren''t safe where they currently hovered. As I turned toward the serpent, I saw it hiss and unleash its attack: [Directional Gravity Control]. Once again, it altered the gravity around us, causing everything that had been hovering¡ªincluding me¡ªto crash down heavily. Actually, calling it a "landing" might be too generous; it was more like a crash. After pulling myself out of that heavy landing, just as I had expected, the serpent came with something else¡ªsomething more grandiose. It could have been the "coup de grace," but instead, it turned its back and made an escape. As I rose back into the air, I debated whether to give chase and ultimately decided against it, muttering to myself, "No, best not to overdo it. I''ve overdone enough, or perhaps not." I looked around at the capital, which was now unrecognizable from just minutes before; the last attack had destroyed everything. Making my way toward where the patriarch''s palace once stood¡ªaround which people had previously gathered before being lifted and then slammed to the ground by that last attack¡ªI hovered above what was now just rubble. I thought to myself, "Perhaps this is what heroes in movies feel at the end of the film, when they save the city." Well, I hadn''t exactly saved the city, but at least I had saved most of the people. I extended my arm, and in that moment, black chains manifested, stretching from my hands down into the debris. As I absorbed the chains back, what they were connected to began to reveal themselves from beneath the rubble where they had been buried. It was the elves who had earlier been caught in the attack. Instead of being splattered into puddles of blood, they were fine¡ªunharmed, in fact. It was all thanks to the chains that had bound them to me, sparing them from a grimmer fate. The moment I realized that a battle was to be fought in the capital, I understood that civilians'' lives were to be lost, but nonetheless, I understood that some measure ought to be done to ensure that they don''t die, not because of it, but here''s the issue, I didn''t have a barrier type skill that could conveniently shield everyone from what might happen, but I did have a skill that could allow me to avoid them dying a stupid death, which is why the first thing I ever did was cast a jinx that effectively hexed, harmlessly all living beings of the capital and thus allowing me to form a connection to cast a curse upon them. That curse was what manifested the crown hanging above their head as they stood there, chained, amidst the rubble looking up at me, holding them on chains, deactivating both [Blood Oath], which is the curse which through my [Chain of Permanence] connected me to their HP, and [Fate Reversal], which made it so that any damage they''d be subject to was translated into a mere MP subtraction from me. Perhaps saying "mere" isn''t all that accurate as it left me with a huge drain, but compared to the loss of the entire population in the capital, isn''t this a worth it sacrifice? "Go ahead," I thought, looking down upon them and spreading my arms, "Praise me, praise your savior," as I released the hex I had cast on them. The chains and the hanging crown above their heads disappeared, just in time for a rather surprising event to unfold. Out of nowhere, a barrier, vibrant and seemingly more robust than the one that had been shattered earlier, materialized, effectively replacing the broken one. Whose Ancestral Tree was this? There could only be one answer to that question. Half a hundred meters away, hovering above the remnants of his palace, appeared the figure. Without the familiar he had earlier ridden into battle and dressed in tattered robes, it was clear that he, the Umbryan family patriarch, had seen better days. It seemed like ages since he had experienced a day as terrible as this one. Floating there, I, just like he did earlier in the day, made no comment, simply staring into the eyes of the black-haired patriarch who returned my gaze with a gloomy expression. B2. Chapter 25: Aftermath The battle was over, that much was clear the moment the patriarch returned and restored the barrier surrounding his capital. If you''re asking about the outcome of all this conflict, the answer is more "nuanced." Let''s break it down for the various parties that took part in it. For the Umbryans, this battle, which barely lasted a day¡ªwith a big part of the chaotic scene only lasting an hour¡ªwas a disaster for the Umbryan family. While there were little to no civilian casualties, thanks to the intervention of a very avant-garde guest who immediately went to check on them upon noticing the abnormality, the toll was grimmer for the Umbryans who participated in the frontline. That frontline, by their initial prediction, was not meant to be a frontline at all, and that was their downfall. No one was expecting the barrier to collapse, and for them to be facing these monsters on the frontline. So when it happened, many lives were lost pulling out their resistance, which, to their credit, didn''t allow for a single monster to make it past the rampart of bodies they erected. So credits to the fallen ones and those that made it out alive. For their patriarch, it was also a disaster with clearly nothing happening like he''d expected; obviously, he didn''t expect his barrier to be so easily destroyed as it was. After all, that''s why he erected it in the first place, and clearly, he didn''t expect the battle against the Argyrian patriarch to go as it did. Let''s put it bluntly, he''d been outmatched, a word that would undoubtedly hurt his pride, but that''s just how it went. Once again, credits to him for just surviving and managing to deal a big blow to the large chunk of the main army of stampeding monsters, because we only got a taste of a preview of it; most of the monsters were at their master''s side, which really went in the Umbryan family''s disfavor. So really, credit to him for making it out alive. Now, for me, I''d say that while this isn''t exactly how I hoped things would go when I made my way here, I''m someone who knows how to make do with what we had, so to me, the outcome is reasonable¡ªnot good, not bad, just reasonable. It would have been bad, extremely problematic if the patriarch somehow died to the Argyrian patriarch, but he didn''t. It would have been good if, immediately upon his return from the frontline, that heavy blow made him admit his wrong ways and just accept my offer, but that didn''t happen, at least not yet. It''s been three days exactly since the invasion, and since then, despite the patriarch''s word of assurance that it wasn''t going to happen again, the whole capital had been on their tiptoes fearing yet another invasion from the Umbryan patriarch and his stampede, but that didn''t happen. So finally, I heard the capital was finally calming. Yep, I said I heard because I only heard of it, from Aquaflora mostly, as she really got herself busy, as if she wasn''t the type to claim to not like the capital and thus hole herself up in her room. Since then, we''ve hardly ever seen her because since the day of the invasion, Licht and I didn''t leave the estate we were put in. Not the same estate as before¡ªthat estate was like every other structure of the capital, destroyed by that serpent attack. No, we were assigned to a different estate, eastward in a remote corner of the capital which, luckily, allowed it to be unharmed by that attack, so we were really cut away from witnessing any of the most recent developments in the capital. To be honest, the distance was nothing, but I believe the wise thing to do here was to let things simmer without much interference, and observe what happens next. I was sitting in the estate garden. "Say, Licht, now that I think about it, there''s something that I''d like to ask," she asked Licht, who was throwing lime leaves onto the fire of a camping stove to ward off the mosquitoes which at that hour of the night are quite annoying. "Mh... What?" "Did you happen to level up?" Licht stopped in what he was doing, smiled, then confirmed her assumption with a nod. "How did you know?" How did I know? echoed in her mind. Boy, you''ve been in an awfully good mood despite the tragedy that befell this usually peaceful capital. "Just a hunch," I said, "but well, congrats. We gotta celebrate with the others when we get the opportunity." "That''s just a level," Licht said. "I don''t think that''s worth a celebration." "Not worth a celebration? Tell me, how long has it been since you last leveled up?" "54 years," he answered bitterly. "You hear that? Half a century. That''s literally before I even killed the King of Eldoria, and that was ages ago. If that''s not worth celebrating, then I don''t know what is." Licht still insisted it wasn''t worth it, but rapidly changed his mind. After all, that was just him being shy about this; in truth, I could tell he was ecstatic about this level up. "Once we''re done with what we''re up to here, I think we should have a window of free time in which we could go out in the wild to raise some levels before taking on our problematic patriarch. But that would be after we''re done with what we''re here for," I suggested. Licht nodded. After a moment, he asked, "Can I ask, is this¡ªallowing me to finally level up after so long¡ªwhy you demanded that I tag along?" I could see where he was coming from with that question. After all, it was I who through Bortz had asked Dungeon Master 07 to allow him to tag along, and one of the reasons I gave Dungeon Master 07 was to get him away from the inevitable battle between wannabe kings that would replace Alexander, whom I was planning on taking down. Okay, I admit that makes it sound like I caused the problem and then offered the solution. But let''s be honest: he was already stuck in a complex situation, whether I killed Alexander or not. So, me suggesting he come along to avoid the complications arising from Alexander''s death was a helping hand they couldn''t afford to refuse Despite being an adventurer¡ªa status that usually, due to its neutrality, keeps one away from the gaze of the two main factions that lead the Land of Men, namely the Faith and the Empire¡ªhe, due to the potential he displayed by unlocking the longevity skill, made himself the target of many wannabe kings and even kings who foresee themselves being replaced because that''s happened a lot in the past few centuries. But truly, if it were only them, no doubt that his cover as an adventurer would have sufficed. Unfortunately, we got confirmation that just like ¡°he¡± once had eyes for Dungeon Master 10 on his first incarnation, the Emperor had taken notice of Licht.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The monarch that calls himself the One and Only is a very careful, zealous, and jealous man. An obsession of his is to remain the strongest man to ever exist and to do so, he doesn''t hesitate to nip what he considers potential danger in the bud. This can come in several forms, one being the most expeditive one, just him killing them, the second is him reforming these potential dangers through an oath, in other words, making them a king, which is essentially him putting a leash on you because something a king has to accept is the fact that they''d never reach their fullest potential and that they are destined to be beneath and be an obedient hound to the emperor. Of course, he could always, for the sake of survival, do what I did: becoming a king then, well, spit on the Emporor face, but I doubt anyone other than myself could do that without consequence. Am I saying that out of arrogance? Partly yes, but also no. I was being pragmatic; there was a particular reason for which he didn''t kill me even when as a king I refused to uphold my kingly oath, which in turn made it that when I forsake the oath I''d taken I suffered no consequence. This happened because of my circumstances, unique to me that unfortunately couldn''t apply to Licht. Well, it technically could, but someone as pragmatic as Dungeon Master 07 wouldn¡¯t allow that to happen. Anyway, back to his question, I echoed, "You''re asking if that''s the reason I requested that you''d be sent over? Well... Let''s say that it''s one of the reasons, but not one of the main reasons." "What''s the main one?" Licht asked. "It''s..." I began, only to hesitate before ultimately choosing to answer, "Let''s make a game out of this. If you manage to guess the main reason, I''ll gift you with whatever you ask of me, so long as it is something that I can give. I''ll give you three tries, so think about it thoroughly," I said, only to halt myself at the sight of something flying in our direction¡ªa monster? No, there were no monsters inside the Umbryan domain. Instead, it was a sight that alerted neither of us, for it was just a long-eared witch descending upon us on her broom. "You don''t have to give me an answer today," I said, as our witch reached the ground. "Hi, you two," Aquaflora greeted. "Hi," Licht greeted back. "Hi, you''ve been rare as of late," I remarked with a chuckle. "We''ve missed you over here. We were just talking about how monotonous our days have been, right, Licht?" When I looked at Licht, I was surprised to see him playing along by giving a nod¡ªa first, usually when I involve him he tends to just retract himself from everything. "Spare me, at least today spare me," Aquaflora begged, retrieving a bamboo chair like the one Licht and I sat on before collapsing onto it. "I''m exhausted." "Another hard day of helping the miserables?" I asked. Aquaflora nodded before responding, "So many lives were shaken by what happened," turning blind eyes to the sarcasm. "I tried to help the best I could, but I barely got enough MP left to heal 37 of all the people that I could have helped before my fatigue percentage got to the roof," she sighed. Swamp witch isn''t just a nickname Goblin had invented for her; it was the name of her class, or to be more precise, her subclass. As a class, it allowed her heightened compatibility with two main affinities: spiritual and nature affinity, and within the latter lies was a healing sub-affinity into which she''d invested some points, which allowed her, in turn, to acquire healing skills that she''d been putting to great use over the past few days. "I looked at her and couldn¡¯t help but notice her strangely good mood. Well, ''good mood'' might not be the right term; ''lively'' would be more accurate. She was lively, just as she had been yesterday and the day before. It used to feel odd because I couldn¡¯t understand it. I was lively too, perhaps even in a good mood, and Licht was as well, but we each had our own, very different reasons for feeling this way. So, I was curious about what made her so lively. I was confused, at least until yesterday. She came back from the capital late at night, as she did today, ranting about how miserable the people were, and then I finally understood." "They must be grateful to you for everything you''ve done for them these past few days," I commented, amused. "Nowhere as much as they are to you," Aquaflora responded. "You''ve never visited the capital since the attack, so you don¡¯t know this, but you''re a celebrity out there." "A celebrity, huh?" "Yes, they''ve all seen you save them. At first, they mistook you for a fellow Noctil elf, one of the patriarch''s clan leaders, but they''ve finally learned who you are. They used to call you Chainmaiden, but today I heard many call you Binding Queen." "Binding Queen, huh?" I sneered. "I don''t mind the ''Queen'' part, but why does the first word make me look like a tyrant?" "You don''t look impressed," Aquaflora remarked. "It''s because I am not," I answered. "I''m the last person they should look up to as a hero. I''m not interested in being their hero." "Yet you saved them." "Yet, I saved them," I nodded along. "But I only did so because I accidentally killed them in the battle I was involved in. I frankly do not care the slightest about these people; I just did not want to be a terrible guest to our ¡®pleasant¡¯ host." "Every time," Aquaflora sighed heavily. "You really like being a terrible person." "Not particularly," I answered. "I''m just not fond of being what I''m not. Don''t get me wrong, though; I have nothing against heroes. I find you people admirable." Aquaflora made a face. "Oh, what?! You''re not going to tell me you''re not a hero, aren''t you? Especially when a few days ago you mentioned having no fondness for a place like this since it reminded you of the Argyrian capital, yet here you are, leaving us early in the morning, coming back to us late at night to do what? To help these people you claimed to have no fondness for. If that''s not what a hero would do, then I don''t know what is." Aquaflora bit her lips, then in a low voice said, "I''m not a hero." "Oh," I went on. "Please explain to us how so. Did you lie to us when you told us how you feel about this place and its people?" She shook her head. "Then are you being a hypocrite with that help you''re giving these people? Are you helping out because there''s something that you expect of it?" She shook her head even more vigorously. "Then please enlighten us." Silent, then hesitant, it took her a moment before finding her words. Once she did, she explained, "I didn''t lie about what I feel about this place, but it''s changed because I realized something as they were being torn apart, as they feared that the monsters would come back, how they revered you after saving them that they..." she took a moment to find the right words, but she ultimately did. "That they''re like humans." Listening to her, I cast a glance at Licht to confirm that he heard the same thing as me, and from the look on his face, it seemed that yes. If one had to summarize in one sentence what could be taken of what she said, it''s that the problem she had with elves, be it Umbryan or Argyrian, is that she is blaming them for not being human. She is basically blaming elves for lacking humanity. I burst out in laughter. That sounded like a speech that typically would come out of the mouth of the ever-so-hateful Goblin, yet no, it just came out of that sweet-looking girl. "Here I was thinking that I finally started to understand you better¡­." B2. Chapter 26: Legacy While it was an inconsiderate comment to make, especially when you''re in the domain of an elven monarch¡ªwhich means I even filter what comes out of my mouth because he could and is most likely hearing whatever we say¡ªI couldn''t help but think that if Goblin had heard what Aquaflora said, he would have had a more positive opinion of her, for those were words that would have without a doubt resonated with him. Licht, Bortz, Lucy, and to a certain extent, Blondie¡ªI have raised them or at least tried to raise them in a way that I believe would allow them to infiltrate the society of the race they were born into. Goblin benefited the most from this upbringing, being raised on the elven continent, but it couldn''t be argued that with him, this program backfired the most. One of the things I had him do was infiltrate the Argyrian family to see what would come of it. Needless to say, he didn¡¯t last long¡ªmerely seven years. His reason was the same one Aquaflora is complaining about: elves aren''t like humans. This is particularly the case for elves living as part of an elven family. Elves living in villages, like the one close to the mansion, are an exception as those elves have decided to stay away from the conventional elven family "lifestyle"¡ªfrom their perceptions of relationships, of time, and of how things should be. A lot of what''s normal for elves is different from humans, and someone who sees humans as the norm will see the elven lifestyle as alien. I personally think that it doesn''t have to be like that; it''s only like that because of the existence of what makes elves alien. On several fundamental levels, elves aren''t all that inhumane. The fact that I didn''t feel all that weird by them is proof of that, which is certainly due to my long and varied experience. But still, I believe I have the objectivity to say that elves aren''t all that different from humans. What I believe makes them somewhat alien is their relationship with their monarch. In an elven family, elves are born for the sake of their monarch; they''re literally the ones who gave them life and as such, everything they do, feel, live they feel they owe to their monarch. But in moments like the one where I saved them, I could see it in their eyes, them realizing that they don¡¯t owe just everything to one they call monarch, which frankly is the reason why I decided to remove myself from the capital. Saving my people is something I don¡¯t regret, , but instilling any sentiment that might make the patriarch feel like I want to overthrow him¡ªwith his ego¡ªwasn''t wise. Ego or not, I wouldn''t blame him for harboring negative feelings against me, given my antecedent of troublemaker. So, really, exiling ourselves here was for the best. A couple of hours after Aquaflora came back from her daily humanitarian mission in the capital, I was still seated at my bamboo seat, throwing lime leaves into the outdoor stove to ward off mosquitoes, checking on my stats which with my recent level up I just finished attributing my harvested attribute points. --- [Arianna¡¯s Interface] - Name: Arianna - Level: 76 (50+26) -Race: Highbreed - Class: Hexcaster + Weaponry Ascetic - Title: Blessing of the Ascetic, Peerless Sorcerer, Chainweaver, Kinslaughterer, Demon Slaughterer, Beast Slaughterer, Eldritch Nightmare, Mistshard Queen, Scholar of Arcane, Great Champion, Archmage''s Blessing, Dexterous Performer, Archon of Heresy - Experience: 411,685 / 301,475,022 [Status] - HP: 11,445 / 11,445 (+1722) - MP: 118,834 / 118,834 (+37,578) - SP: 39,827 / 39,827 (+1722) - Fatigue: 0.1% - Defense: 5094 - Offense: 24,061 [Attributes] - Strength: 49 - Agility: 52 - Constitution: 58 - Intelligence: 65 - Wisdom: 70 - Charisma: 63 - Faith: 65 - Luck: 65 [Skills] - Amplified Frostbite: Level 7 - Anti-Appraisal: Level 2 - Arctic Avalanche: Level 7 - Arcanic Codex: Level 10 - Arsenal Dance: Level 8 - Blighted Domain: Level 7 - Celestial Ice Cage: Level 5 - Chains of Permanence: Level 7 - Cryostasis: Level 7 - Cursed Weaponry Conjuration: Level 10 - Draconic Breath (Ice Dragon): Level 7 - Elemental Immunity: Level 5 - Enlightened Monk Vitality: Level 2 - Enhanced Recovery: Level 4 - Pain Immunity: Level 7 - Ethereal Mana Core: Level 5 - Frost Glide: Level 7 - Hexweaving: Level 5 - Hydroclasm: Level 5 - Ice Elemental Arcana: Level 9 - Ice Immunity: Level 10 - Identification: Level 10 - Judgment of the Firmament: Level 10 - Life Control: Level 8 - Longevity: Level 3 - Lunar Cataclysm: Level 8 - Magical Immunity: Level 5 - Mantle of Harmony: Level 7 - Magical Reinforcement: Level 8 - Manifest Spiritual Armament: Level 8 - Perfect Sight: Level 10 - Perfected Evil Eyes: Level 10 - Resonant Recovery: Level 9 - Shivering Doom: Level 7 - Spiritual Infusion: Level 7 - Transcendent Renewal: Level 6 - Water Elemental Arcana: Level 5 - Wind Elemental Arcana: Level 6 - Yin Physique: Level 11 - Zenith of Sorcery: Level 8 [Abilities] - Ascetic¡¯s Fortitude: Unlocked - Blood Oath: Unlocked - Curse of Dominion: Unlocked - Debilitating Surge: Unlocked - Demon Bane (Monarch Killer): Unlocked - Echo of Agony: Unlocked - Elemental Affinity (Ice): Unlocked - Elemental Affinity (Ice-Water-Wind, Impotence): Unlocked - Eyes of Perdition: Unlocked - Fate Reversal: Unlocked - Frozen Heart: Unlocked - Hexcaster Weaponry: Unlocked - Human Bane: Unlocked - Ice Complete Immunity: Unlocked - Icy Veins: Unlocked - Death Manifest: Locked -Legacy of Agony: Unlocked - Mantle of Serenity: Unlocked - Negative Resonance: Unlocked - Peerless Constitution (Yin): Unlocked - Spectral Summoning: Unlocked - Tharazuul, the Rotten Beholder: UnlockedUnauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. - Unyielding Spirit: Unlocked - Wraith¡¯s Touch: Unlocked As always Since my class change, I''ve been allocating my acquired attribute points to strength, agility, and constitution, as those are the attributes my secondary class scales to. It also mainly scales to wisdom, secondarily to intelligence and faith, but I already invested points in those when I became a Hexcaster. So, I could afford to dedicate all my attribute points to these three. Staring at the screen before me, I wondered what else could be upgraded, and the thing that immediately came to mind is the status disparity between my MP, SP, and HP. The difference between them was astronomical, but luckily for me, I understood exactly what needed to be done to fix that. As of now, despite being both a Hexcaster and Weaponry Ascetic, I am still mostly a Hexcaster than the other. Heck, at this point, I am even more of a mage than I am a Weaponry Ascetic, but that''s only because as a Weaponry Ascetic I''m only level 26 and have yet to properly invest my attribute points in the corresponding attributes. I just need to level up. Easier said than done when the experience point requirement is this high, but that''s to be expected in my novel. No, who am I kidding with this, of course, this is not normal. The system is fair in its own ways and unarguably consistent. It generally imposes an experience point requirement threshold for each level, which varies according to one''s class. For example, a level one barbarian would need more experience points to level up compared to a mage or sorcerer. However, this logic of escalating experience thresholds changes dramatically beyond level 3. Additionally, the introduction of titles, skills, or abilities that provide passive enhancements can further disrupt this pattern, leading to significantly different requirements for each class. As levels increase, the disparity between classes can widen. Nevertheless, as long as one does not compare these discrepancies, it might seem to each class holder that their progression is simply following a normal, exponential increase. Here''s the thing: since I wasn''t comparing myself to others, I observed my level-up requirement normally increasing up to a specific threshold¡ªlevel 50. At this point, I had to make a decision: continue as a Hexcaster or choose a secondary class. I opted for the latter, which significantly altered my system requirement. It didn''t reduce to the level of a level 1 mage, but it did decrease substantially, only climbing back to the previous peak between level 49 and 50 when I reached level 67. However, you might think this change could be exploited to accelerate leveling, but that''s not possible. Not conventionally. The system is designed to be fair and has safeguards in place. From level 50 to 75, I could only harvest experience through magic-type skills¡ªanything I defeated with spells, curses, or hexes granted me no experience. So, there was nothing to exploit here unless you were already skilled in magic, like I was from my days as a sorcerer. Despite having the potential to abuse this mechanic to rapidly advance my level, I chose not to. Instead, I focused on properly developing as a mage, which was the primary reason I opted for this class path over one that might have compensated for my weaknesses, specifically my disproportionately low defense compared to my offense, and my lower HP and SP relative to my MP. Life was good until I reached level 75, when I made a class change going from mage to Weaponry Ascetic. It''s explainable that when I took mage as a class I got a level requirement reduction, well, when I made that second class change I got served with the opposite. I could blame many things for that, namely the system for understanding what I was pulling out and punishing me for it, also my overlapping system requirement, but also and mainly the fact that I kept most of my mage advantages despite going from a mage to a completely different class. In any case, I got hit hard, but well nothing unhandleable. As ridiculous as the experience requirement seemed, it just meant I needed to kill more. There''s no shortage of things to kill; you just need to know where to hunt them and when to engage¡ªor not. So, facing these stats, while their decadence gnawed at my perfectionist mind, I knew all I needed was a little experience harvesting fest. After all, I''ve just ended the 50-year level-up fast I imposed on myself. But first, I need to wrap up my business here. Deciding to stop pretending he wasn''t there, I closed the floating interface before me and said, "One of these days, I might accidentally act on impulse and cause a diplomatic incident. Would you blame me when that happens?" There was a silence just long enough to be awkward before he responded. His form materialized a few meters away, and he said, "I would," his voice steady, "after all, you and I know very well, there''s no monster in my domain nor anyone foolish enough to attack you." "That''s the thing, Patriarch, I''m not so sure anymore, wasn''t there very inside that very domain a few days ago," I jabbed at him to which he replied with a "hmph," as he approached the seat I invited him to take, it was the same seat Licht sat in earlier on, but he did not sit down. "Anyway, you look better now. I may not look the part but deep inside, I''m very relieved to see that you sustained no debilitating injuries." He sneered, "He mainly dabbles in elemental attacks, not curses like you so of course I received no debilitating injuries." "Oh," I responded, slightly surprised by the reaction. "But who am I saying that to, you know that better than anyone." "If you''re making a reference to what I once told you about squabbling with him as I said it never went down to actual shedding of blood, so I''m not so clued in as you think I am, Patriarch." "Yet you didn''t seem all that surprised by that outcome were you?" "Not surprised? I guess yes¡­I wouldn''t say that I was surprised, in my mind there were only two outcomes: either he falls, or..." I said, eying him. "Or I fall?" he completed. I nodded, then shrugged. "I didn''t expect there could be a third outcome where it would end in a tie, with him just giving up on trampling over your domain," I explained. After the return of the Patriarch to his domain, which marked the end of the battle between the Patriarchs, I was informed and witnessed the stampede retreating. Although I didn''t see him during the retreat, I knew it was led by the Argyrian family patriarch. Consequently, the battle concluded with both sides withdrawing¡ªthe Argyrian family patriarch to his next destination and the Umbryan family patriarch to his domain. "Mind explaining in detail what happened then," I asked curiously. The Patriarch, in his silence, didn''t seem like he was about to entertain my request when he answered, "We fought, to a tie," then with a voice filled with frustration and straight up anger, he added, "we did until his monster joined in the fray," then looking at me as if expecting an answer from me he asked, "What''s the deal with these things?" "Those are just monsters part of his¡ª" "That is not what I''m asking," he cut in, "how is he controlling these creatures? He is a monarch ruling over elemental affinity, how is he controlling monsters!" That was a good question, unfortunately, you''re not getting an honest answer from me, "I would say I''m as clueless as you but I was given an explanation, a theory if you feel a little more critical, that I got from a collaborator of mine and Aquaflora who''d seen him rampage for the first time," "You''re talking about the fact that he tried to accommodate an Ancestral Tree manifested from a Nature subaffinity?" "See, you''ve heard of it yourself," I responded. "I have a hard time believing that he...He was arrogant, but certainly not stupid." "And yet you''ve seen what became of him." The five main affinities¡ªnature, elemental, arcane, spiritual, and artistic¡ªare the categories into which one can manifest or accommodate one or several Ancestral Trees. However, there is a critical condition: the sub-affinities involved in the manifestation of the Ancestral Trees must all belong to the same main affinity. Now, the inevitable question arises: what happens if they don''t? No sane elf has dared to find out, as they instinctively understand that mixing affinities in such a way could lead to their demise. I didn''t believe him when the Umbryan Patriarch said that he had a hard time believing that theory that the Argyrian acquired and tried to assimilate an ancestral tree manifested from a nature subaffinity, for I have the conviction that that''s what made him confident in fighting this battle on his own. I was willing to bet that he genuinely believed that the Argyrian family was weakened because that''s what his nature led him to believe. To be frank what his nature most likely dictated him is that the Argyrian patriarch should be dead if he really did what was theorized he''d done, but he''s not so his second assumption was to think that he''s weakened and thus them being normally equals would equate to him having his chance to defeat the Argyrian patriarch by himself. I would have given everything to see the face he made upon realizing that the only thing burdening him is his mental affliction and that on top of having access to all his power of patriarch he has control over an army of monsters, among which are a consequential amount of primes. "I know it''s pointless to try to understand his madness, but I would like to confirm," I began before asking, "when fighting him, did you feel he was after your life, no that didn''t come right of course he was, what I meant to ask is was he¡ª" "Was he after my ancestral tree?" I nodded. Finally taking a seat he took a moment as if trying to analyze his memory before ultimately answering, "I suppose he was." Then through a logical reasoning ask, "you think he''s trying to acquire and assimilate all the ancestral trees." I nodded, "From the logic of his actions, him sending his monsters straight to the fraction of your ancestral tree you left to the capital, the very of him and his monsters seems to indicate that, I''m no ancestral tree expert but from the pattern which tells that he''s right now headed for the Aurian lands I''d say that yes he''s trying to gather up all the ancestral trees and accommodate them as he did the first." "Madness..." the Patriarch mumbled, tapping his feet in frustration. "Without a doubt but I''d reckon that at this point I don''t think he got much to lose, he either fails to accommodate them and dies or he successfully accommodates them like he did the one that put him in this state, but no matter how you flip it, either outcome is terrible for you, Patriarch. For him, accommodating your ancestral tree implies you being out of the equation, in rougher terms dead, unless...perhaps you surrender your ancestral tree to¡ª from that expression I guess that''s not an option," I chuckled. "Then why not consider my offer, Patriarch, it''s currently the only reasonable solution to the problem this continent faces." At the proposition, the Patriarch looked at me with an annoyed and exasperated look, "...you were only waiting for the opportunity to make this offer again, weren''t you? That''s why you tagged along." "I''d be lying if I said I wasn''t, but frankly," I began, feeling a little more comfortable to say it, "is my offer that bad? From my point of view it''s a good, very benevolent offer. I dare even say. I lend my hands to you to deal with something that''ll eventually be a problem to you¡­all of you." Still staring at me with that expression he asked, "it''s that benevolence that is particularly questionable." "Questionable," I echoed, feigning slight, to which he responded with a nod. "Fair enough, if it''s my benevolence you''re questioning, you might be reassured to know that it''s not entirely out of benevolence," I began, my tone carrying the weight of unresolved grief. "I''ve told you about my reasons for wanting to see the threat he poses extinguished. He''s responsible for the death of one of my little children and the loss of a being very dear to another of my children. I doubt you''ve forgotten, so I assume it''s just not a good enough reason for you. So, I''ll be clear," I continued, locking eyes with him, "it''s not just revenge I''m after. I want more." "More?" he asked, his voice cautious, despite having likely guessed the reason but still needing my confirmation. "You know about me, surely you know what my relationship with Emperor Cleon is like," I said, gesturing as if dusting something off. "I want him gone, but reality has it that I, as strong as I am, don''t stand a chance to defeat a monarch without being one myself, but..." While I was biting my lips at the tragedy of my situation, the Patriarch completed my sentence, "but you know you will never be one." Is that supposed to be funny? I wondered but only kept that thought for myself. "This was less embarrassing to admit in my mind," I chuckled, then added, "but you''re right, I''ll never be a monarch. However, that doesn''t have to stop me from wanting to bring him down. If I can''t defeat him on my own, I can always seek help." "You want me to help you kill your monarch?" He surmised. "I would be very grateful if you made that offer, Patriarch, but I believe I''ve come to know you well enough these past few weeks to understand that you wouldn''t support me on such an endeavor, so¡­luckily for you, I never planned on making such a demand. I had a different plan in mind, one that I can easily guess." Staring at me with cold eyes, the Patriarch responded, "You want his Ancestral Tree." "Bingo," I clapped.. "Neither you, the Aurian family matriarch, nor the Ferron family¡¯s patriarch are compatible with that Ancestral Tree, unless one of you would like to attempt the same stunt the Argyrian Patriarch pulled. But I doubt any of you would, so I don''t see any reasonable objection to one of my little children taking over that Ancestral Tree instead." He sneered, "You think you can replace a patriarch so easily." "I don''t," I replied quickly, my tone firm. "That''s why I came here personally to oversee the whole process." "You really think too highly of yourself," he retorted. Then, a silence fell between us, one that he eventually broke by asking, "That person, that child of yours, who you talk about taking over his Ancestral Tree, is it the girl, Aquaflora?" I thought briefly, Sorry, Patriarch, she''s not one of them, though I suppose with what I''ve seen these few days, she might make a decent candidate¡ªif she was one of them, that is. "Yes," I nodded, lying as smoothly as I breathed, hoping that since he at least knew of her, he might view the whole plan more favorably. "But I have another candidate that I favor slightly more." "Is it the one you mentioned having sent to the Aurian family?" I nodded, "Though compared to Aquaflora, I don''t think he would actually make a good patriarch for the Argyrian family," then I said with full conviction, "but, he, I know he would give everything including his life to see me win my war against Cleon." "Mh," he mused, sinking into a contemplative silence, one that he once again broke, to ask, "Why? What is it that you have so much against him." "Against him, huh¡­ I would like to say that I have nothing against him personally, but that would be lying." "First, I hate him, for the simple reason that he''s responsible for the death of someone very dear, another one of my little children, if you may;" I explained, then added, "I''ve given you a similar explanation and you weren''t content, so I''m going to put it in a way that''ll resonate better with you." "As of now," I explained, "Cleon has put the land of men in an awkward stasis where no one can ascend beyond him, every ember of potential extinguished just for having their warmth stolen by him. I want to break that stasis. To do that, I''d have to kill him. Now, I''m sure you''re wondering what would be the point as even if I managed to somehow defeat him, I will never be able to stand where he stood due to¡ªas you''ve put it clearly the other day and today¡ªmy mortality. But that''s fine, I''m content with that as it is in human nature to eventually die, so I''d argue my mortality is what''s most human about me. But what makes me really content with this is that even if I can''t replace the monarch that he is, I have no doubt, that¡ªwait, now that I think about it, this must be an alien concept to you elves and very particularly you, long-lived as you are." "What is it?" he asked, curiosity in his voice I could tell. "Legacy," I answered. "Unlike you elven monarchs, it is my greatest wish to see those little ones I''ve seen grow outgrow me. That is why it is up to me, who currently stands tallest, to make sure to remove this ceiling that undoubtedly will stunt their growth." "How selfless of you," he said, I could tell he meant it in a diminishing way, but I chose not to take it that way. "What do you want," I responded with a smile. "I''m just that kind of person," then, in a much more serious and solemn tone, I said, "Now then, Patriarch, what do you say about my offer now that I have answered your questions?" Interlude After being escorted out of the Umbryan domain, the Noctil gentlemen, sorry gentle-elf, left us exactly where Licht and I had been waiting for the patriarch''s answer when we first arrived in the capital a few weeks ago. It felt like coming full circle, having obtained what we came here for, only to find ourselves back at the beginning. As I sent a call for Veilleuse-19, I stretched my old bones, a crack resonating from my back, eliciting a low moan. Noting how Licht and Aquaflora stared at me, "what?" I asked, a hint of mock indignation in my voice. "Can''t an old lady crack her back in peace anymore without being judged?" "That''s not what we''re looking at you for," Licht replied. With a smile, I teased them, "So, what is it then? You''re just curious as to what we''re going to do now, aren''t you?" "Well," I began, already hearing Veilleuse-19 screeching in the distance, responding to my call, "as you can see, we''re done with what we came here to do. We got the patriarch''s agreement to join our coalition." I explained further, "There''s no reason for us to stay anymore, unless you, Licht, have a reason?" I asked, pointing at him.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. He shook his head. "You? Perhaps you developed a fondness for the noctil elves of the capital after their beautiful display of humanity and thus want to stay? I won''t judge." Aquaflora gave me an exasperated look and then sighed, "Spare me your sarcasm. You know my answer. What we want to know is where we''re headed next." Hearing these words, I couldn''t help but note that she used "we." From the beginning of this journey, no, even before that, our agreement was for her to just help us communicate with the Umbryan family patriarch as a representative. She did her part, and per our agreement, there was nothing that bound us anymore. But from the way she spoke, she was intent on tagging along. The only question now was whether she would like what I had next in mind. "Where we''re headed next, huh?" I said, pretending to muse before answering. "How about we go hunt some monsters?" I declared, just as Veilleuse made a smooth landing before us. "A monster hunt like we''ve never done before!" B2. Chapter 26: Training Montage With my chains wrapped around my forearm, I stood waiting in the middle of the woods, straining to catch every sound surrounding me and the evolved version of my Eagle Eyes skill surveying through a 360-degree angle. It was then that it came¡ªnot from behind me, nor from the sides, left or right, but from above. A red blade swung down at me wielded by a young, haired man. Raising my arm, I blocked the attack. Clang! Licht''s blade met my chains with intense force, one that, despite all his weight and a vicious roar to enhance it, barely budged. Smiling at his attempt, I reached out to him. Seeing my attempt, Licht quickly withdrew, retreating half a dozen meters away from. Without a moment¡¯s pause, he assumed a stance, unleashing a flurry¡ªno, a dance¡ªof midair swings. Each strike birthed light-infused blade attacks, cutting through the air as they closed the distance between us. With practiced ease, I wove through the narrowing gap, evading every strike. The dozen or so attacks failed to find their mark, instead carving a destructive path into the ancient trees behind me, their centuries of growth wasted in an instant. Frustrated, Licht abandoned his ranged assault and charged forward, swinging his blade in a powerful leftward arc. I met it calmly, deflecting the blow with my chains. Another swing followed, then another, and yet another¡ªall of them met with effortless blocks. As his relentless strikes failed to gain ground, I could see irritation creeping into his expression. Then, abandoning any pretense of honor, he resorted to a cheap shot¡ªa vicious kick aimed at my stomach. Though I managed to intercept it with my knee, the attack was so ungentlemanly that I couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit offended. "Erm, excuse you," I said, raising an eyebrow at him teasingly. At these words, Licht withdrew twice the distance he had earlier, and as relentless as he was, he immediately stanced for another attack. This time, I didn''t just stand around letting him do so; I closed in on him, which prompted him to make a rapid response that came in the form of a skill. The skill released a blinding flash that instantly engulfed our surroundings, effectively blinding anyone who relied on sight. However, I was an exception, thanks to my two skills that rendered me immune to such tactics. Licht watched in horror as I advanced unimpeded, closing the distance between us swiftly. To his credit, he managed to respond, swinging his sword in desperation. But it was a futile effort¡ªhis ordinary strike met my bare left hand and stopped cold. Without hesitation, I reached out with my right, gripping his face and hurling him backward. His head slammed into the ground with such force that a dull thud reverberated through the forest, accompanied by a strained "Garf!" from the now-pinned Licht. Smiling down at the arched-in-pain Licht, I asked, as I removed my hand from his face, "You''re alright?" "Argh! I''m fine!" he groaned, still arched in pain. "Sorry," I apologized, lending him a helping hand, "I might have failed to properly tone down that last blow." Accepting the hand, as this was nothing more than a sparring between us, Licht rose up and asked with a frown, "Because you were toning down the one before that attack?!" "Of course, I''m still a level 76 after all. Even without using my curse, spells, or magic." "But you said that as if you only used physical attacks you were far weaker than that," he complained. "Did I say that?" I feigned with teasing eyes. The truth is, yes, I did say that. If you were to look at me from a class perspective, without worrying about how the system categorizes things, I would be three things: a Hexcaster, a Mage, and, lastly, a Weaponry Ascetic. All of these classes share a reliance on MP¡ªexcept for the Weaponry Ascetic, which uniquely draws on both SP and MP. This dual reliance grants its wielder the ability to deliver both physical and magical attacks. However, anyone familiar with the system¡¯s sense of balance would know that such versatility comes at a cost. The class doesn¡¯t make its magical or physical capabilities as potent as those of a strictly MP-centric or SP-centric class. Instead, they¡¯re toned down. So yes, my physical capabilities may pale in comparison to my magical ones¡ªbut that doesn¡¯t mean they pale when compared to others. For instance, a monk of the same level as me might surpass me in raw physical offense. But a level 43 knight? Certainly not¡ªand even less so when you factor in a certain title I wield. "I think you forget what I am," I reminded Licht, "A kin-slaughterer, a being wielding the Bane Human skill at its high level. Passively, I''m dealing far more damage than I want to, so if I don''t hold back..." At these words, it sank into him. So when he nodded, I added, "I''d say you took my word a little too literally when I said that I physically wasn''t all that strong. I''m still a level 76, sure that makes me a level 26 half-physical monk, but I still bear the full stats of a level 76." At these words, he sighed depressively. "It''s alright," I said, giving his shoulder a reassuring pat. "You did great... for your level. We could work on how to execute low blows properly, but honestly, that was a solid first attempt. That was your first time, right?" Frowning at me, he asked apprehensively, "How do you know?" "It shows," I said with a laugh. "It was obvious you weren¡¯t used to it, considering how long it took you to resort to that tactic. Honestly, though, it wasn¡¯t a bad attempt¡ªjust the wrong match-up. Your real issue isn¡¯t that you¡¯re bad at it; it¡¯s that you¡¯re not used to fighting humans." In the world we came from, we¡¯d seen our share of bloodshed. So when I said he wasn¡¯t used to fighting humans, I didn¡¯t mean he wouldn¡¯t be able to kill when he would have to¡ªI have no doubts that he would. What I meant was that in Fiendfell, human fights are handled differently. Back home, combat often revolved around guns, explosives, and technology. Here, it¡¯s about skills, abilities, and direct physical clashes. During the sparring match, it was clear he wasn¡¯t holding back¡ªhe knew I wouldn¡¯t die. Still, I could tell he wasn¡¯t accustomed to opponents weaving past his attacks. That¡¯s a common issue for fighters who¡¯ve spent most of their time battling large monsters, which tend to tank hits rather than dodge them. Humans¡ªor sentient beings in general¡ªinstinctively avoid harm; it¡¯s in our nature. So, when someone used to fighting stationary or straightforward opponents suddenly faces someone effortlessly dodging their attacks, it often throws them into a state of panic. I¡¯d faced the same problem once, back when Vittorio and I cleared that dungeon. His death there forced me into the life of an adventurer, under the watchful eyes of the Church. In other words, I was forced to lead a slaughter-free existence for a time, leaving me unable to deal with humans the way I once could. So, when I eventually got back into the field, I was rusty¡ªhesitant and inefficient against human opponents. It took a few bandit lair raids to shake off that hesitation and regain my edge. What I believed Licht needed was a baptism of blood. "We¡¯ll fix this," I said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Unless you don¡¯t want to?" He shook his head firmly. "Good," I replied. "I was worried it might go against your principles." "Why would it go against them?" he asked, puzzled. "I don¡¯t know..." I said, grinning. "You know what? Do you want to know the real reason I asked?" "Yes," he said with a nod. "I thought Dungeon Master 07 wouldn''t want me teaching those kinds of things to you." I wasn¡¯t making baseless assumptions. For a long time, Dungeon Master 07 had kept him out of my reach, despite both of us being adventurers. Normally, that would have given me plenty of opportunities to interact with him. I didn¡¯t blame 07 for the distance he wanted Licht to maintain from me; I understood the reasoning all too well. Despite striving for the same end goal, he and I walked different paths. It made sense to keep those he directly influenced from crossing paths with me¡ªit was better and safer that way. "Oh¡­" "To be honest, with you," I said, "Despite the good points I made when I requested your presence, I was really surprised to hear him accepting my offer to involve you in all of this¡ªhis favorite and so-exemplary dungeon master," I said, nudging him teasingly. "I''m..." he responded, clearly unsure how to snap back at that, but just moved away from me. I''m gonna have a fun time corrupting you, I laughed maniacally internally. "What''s with that devious smile?" "What devious smile? I was just smiling at how strong you''re going to be when we''re done with all of this." "Why do I doubt that?" he asked apprehensively, then, as if coming to an understanding, "Wait, do you remember the bet we made about me finding the main reason for which I wanted you here." "I never forget. You still have three tries." "Is it just because Luc¡ªDungeon Master 07 didn''t want you anywhere near me." At these words, I exploded with laughter, one that I was only able to repress after a moment. "You''re down to two tries. I wouldn''t lie to you¡ªthat could have been the reason, if there wasn''t the true reason. So, well played." "Oh," he sighed, disappointed. "Did you think of something to request in exchange for the answer already?" "Not yet," he answered, "I''m still hesitating about a lot." "Like?" "I¡¯m not sure yet but the first thing that comes to mind is whatever you did after your class change to end up like this." He pointed a finger at me. "You make it sound like it¡¯s normal, but it¡¯s not¡ªit doesn¡¯t add up. There¡¯s no way you could be this physically strong, not when your previous classes were both MP-focused. You might say it¡¯s because of your new class, but you¡¯ve only been in it for two levels. So, you must have done something¡ªsomething I can¡¯t figure out." I smiled. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! He was right¡ªsomething about my strength didn¡¯t add up. The first to notice it, albeit a bit late, was Alexander. Still, credit where it¡¯s due¡ªhe managed to figure out that something was off even without knowing my actual level. So, kudos to him for that belated realization. Class changes come with a steep cost. So they¡¯re something you only do when you¡¯ve really badly messed up your class choice and thus truly regret it. Not only does a class change risk throwing off your stats balance, but it also comes with significant drawbacks. For instance, if you change classes at level 25, you¡¯re often left with just a handful of level 1 skills to scrape by with. At level 75, you can at least rely on the skills from your original class to get through. By that logic, it made no sense for someone like me¡ªat level 75 and fresh into a new class¡ªto hold my own in a physical fight against Alexander, who was around level 80 and had been a martial artist for at least 30 levels. It just didn¡¯t add up. "Oh, you were curious about that?" I said with a sly grin. "It¡¯s not really a secret. You could¡¯ve just asked¡ªI would¡¯ve answered. Want me to tell you what I did?" He nodded. "It''s simple really, it''s true that I''m only a level 76, and thus am only two levels into my monk special class, but the thing is, I''ve been, that I''ve been at that level for fifty years, you know about that already, don''t you?" "Yes, and that''s the part that confuses me." "Alright, alright, I''ll explain," I chuckled, deciding to stop teasing him anymore, "It''s simple. I might have remained a level 75 for 50 years as I said, but just because I did so doesn''t mean that I just stopped acquiring skills and leveling them up. In fact, I''d say that those 50 years were the most I''ve been active when it comes to picking up skills since I had to catch up after the ''setback'' my class change put me into." "That...How?" How? That was a good question. Acquiring skills is typically tied to leveling up one¡¯s class, just as experience is usually gained by defeating others¡ªwhether people or monsters. The only exception might be innate skills, which are granted due to a mysterious predisposition or as part of one¡¯s class. These skills are usually unlocked at key milestones when a class is newly acquired: levels 1, 25, 50, and 75. When I initiated my class change at level 75, I unlocked several innate Weaponry Ascetic skills. Initially, they were all at level 1. Even though I¡¯ve only leveled up once since acquiring them, they¡¯ve advanced far beyond that. They¡¯re no longer at levels 2 or 3¡ªmost of them have evolved well beyond their original forms. "Simple," I began before explaining, "I trained in the best place one could possibly train¡ªthe Voidborne Catacomb, under the watchful supervision of the domain''s dungeon core¡ªDungeon Master 00." "Wait... I''m even more confused, wasn''t it said that we can''t level up by using creatures spawned by the Voidborne Catacomb?" That was a realization Dungeon Master 07 came to in his third incarnation. It¡¯s likely because the system perceives the dungeon¡¯s spawns as being akin to familiars summoned by us. Just as you can¡¯t harvest experience from defeating your own summon, we can¡¯t gain experience from slaying monsters produced by the Voidborne Catacomb. If it were possible, we¡¯d have trained every Dungeon Master in that place. But unfortunately, leveling up through experience there is impossible. And no, you don¡¯t acquire skills, abilities, or titles from fighting those monsters either¡ªthe system sees through such attempts. However, there is a way to work around the restriction when it comes to leveling up skills. While it¡¯s still impossible to gain experience, there¡¯s a trick¡ªa not-so-simple one¡ªthat allows you to actually level up your skills. "You''re right, you can''t, but you can level up your skill if you are parasitized by those," I explained, pulling out something I¡¯ve always been carrying around. "A rock?" Licht asked, eyeing the object with confusion. It certainly looked like a rock¡ªat first. But as I slowly lifted the curse I had cast on it, the creature beneath began to squirm. Licht shuddered, a visible chill running down his spine. I couldn¡¯t blame him; the worm-like eldritch beings were truly unsettling to behold. "What is that?" he asked, his voice tinged with unease. As a former dungeon core, he should have pieced it together from my explanations and the creature''s appearance. But not every Dungeon Master retained memories as I did, with every detail etched into their mind. So, layering another curse to petrify the wriggling thing, I held it up and introduced him properly to them. "Licht, meet the Soulstriders¡ªor, as they¡¯re known in the Underworld, Fate Gluttons." I gave him a moment to absorb the name before continuing. "These little abominations are eldritch parasites. They latch onto a host and either condemn them to the most wretched existence imaginable or, if the host is highly compatible, establish a form of harmony. Symbiosis, if you will. In that both fortunate and unfortunate scenario, the Soulstriders leech every bit of experience their host earns, feeding on it as sustenance. Ungrateful little bastards, for sure, but not stupid¡ªthey know keeping their host alive is in their best interest. So, while they deprive you of leveling up, they¡¯ll allow you to grow stronger in other ways." Licht¡¯s expression twisted as he processed my explanation. "You¡¯ve spent the past fifty years with those in you?" "It''s kind of weird when you put it like that. But yeah, I¡¯ve spent fifty years being parasitized by these things," I admitted. "In this case, though, the parasitism works in my favor. When I''m parasitized, the system perceives me as a different entity¡ªlikely just an extension of the Soul Strider. Because of that, it grants experience to me. Well, technically to them. Sure I don¡¯t get experience, since the Soulstriders keep it for themselves. But in return, I get what I truly want from this exchange: skill level-ups. It¡¯s a mutually beneficial relationship¡ªsymbiotic, like I said," I explain with a smirk. "Want to try it someday?" "Why would I ever want to do that?" "Sure, there¡¯s the risk of dying, the constant pain, and the possibility that you might never get rid of them without the proper skills. But if you can look past all that, it¡¯s actually worth it." One look at him made his stance clear, but still I advised, "if you¡¯re curious about that method, I¡¯d recommend using a Soul Eater instead. The name isn¡¯t exactly comforting, and neither is their size¡ªthey¡¯re much larger¡ªbut that size makes them significantly easier to remove. They¡¯re also less greedy. Unlike the smaller, more insidious cousins, Soul Eaters are vicious but more direct. For your level, you''d at best need to host two or three, unlike me, who had to host an entire colony." "You speak as if, after everything you¡¯ve said, I¡¯d actually consider doing that." "I just wanted to give you your options," I replied with a smirk, "in case you ever decide to take advantage of Dungeon Master 00¡¯s spawns. Besides, even if you don¡¯t plan on doing what I did, I think you should visit Dungeon Master 00 from time to time." Dungeon Master 07 had emphasized it repeatedly, and I had come to understand it even in my first incarnation: time flows differently for us Dungeon Masters, especially when we are in our Dungeon Core states. For a Dungeon Core, time doesn¡¯t feel fast or slow¡ªit simply exists. From a human perspective, what might feel like a century to us would pass as mere moments to a Dungeon Core. Because of this, I doubted we could live long enough for Dungeon Master 00 to ever feel loneliness¡ªassuming, of course, that a Dungeon Core is even capable of such an emotion. Still, I believe he genuinely enjoyed the fifty years I spent with him. Feeling a pang of guilt over how brief the reunion between Dungeon Master 00 and Licht had been, I added, "You wouldn¡¯t have noticed it, since he withdrew so quickly when you two met, but he was really eager to see you, Licht. During my time with him, he always loved hearing tales of my adventures and mishaps in Fiendfell. I doubt enough time has passed for him to start missing those stories, but if you ever get the chance, you should visit him and share some of your own adventures. Heck, if you manage to lure one or two adventurers into his domain, I¡¯m sure you¡¯d make his day. No¡ªwhat am I saying? You¡¯d make his whole century." Listening, Licht nodded. "I''m not sure about the luring adventurers part, but I will definitely visit another time." "That''s good¡ª" I began before looking up when I noticed something approaching in the upper corner of my right eye. Following my glance, Licht looked up and wondered out loud, "What the hell is she doing here?" "I was asking myself the same question." Lowering her broom to the ground, she landed and approached. "Aquaflora, what a surprise to see you here." Without returning my greeting, the girl went on to rant, "So you were really serious about not doing anything. Lives are at stake, aren''t they? You''ve said it yourself. Yet here you two are! Casually do¨C" "Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down," I interjected, cutting off the ranting ashy blonde-haired elf girl mid-sentence. "First off, good morning." She clearly had no intention of returning the greeting but, realizing I wouldn¡¯t entertain her until she did, conceded with a sigh. "Good morning." "And Licht? You¡¯re not going to greet him too?" Another sigh. "Good morning, Licht. Now, I¡ª" Before she could continue, I cut her off again. "Secondly, what are you doing here? Or, more precisely, how did you even get here?" After obtaining the approval of the Umbryan family patriarch, we left the capital. Our next destination was none other than the mansion we had parted ways with the others from, where we barely stayed a day to get here, to do what I promised them upon leaving the Umbryan capital: To hunt monsters, train, and level up. A war against the Argyrian patriarch and his stampede was in motion, and it was best to have everyone ready for it. This not only concerned Licht but me as well. It was time for me to finally acquire some levels. I tried to rope Aquaflora into our "remise-en-forme" as she seemed intent on seeing this whole conflict through, but she refused and parted ways with us, heading for, I believe, her little place in the middle of swamps. It''s been over a week since our departure from the Umbryan capital, three days since our arrival, and barely two days since our separation, and here she was again. "I...I followed you here," she explained. "You followed us here? From the mansion, you followed us here?" I asked incredulously. It was worth mentioning that the spot we currently trained at had been suggested by Goblin. As the most familiar with these woods¡ªthanks to his bonded creatures¡ªhe had pointed out that this corner of the forest was frequented by Primes. In other words, it was a highly dangerous area. That was precisely why we chose it; it was perfect for our level-up program. And now, here she was, casually telling us she had flown over on her little broom to get here. "I''ve seen bravery, you''re something beyond that level." If Goblin was there, he would have gladly named what it was: stupidity. "Spare me your sarcasm, I''m here because¡ª" "Because you don''t agree with my methods." "It''s not your methods. You said it yourself, didn''t you? That the patriarch is heading next for the Aurian family capital, right?" "I did say that. So what? What do you expect me to do about that? To go after the Argyrian patriarch myself?" "I..." "See, you''re at a loss for words because you realize how ridiculous your expectation of me is." "I''m not expecting you to do that, I''m expecting you to try something, I don''t know, do anything to help avoid something like what happened in the Umbryan capital from happening there." "I sent Goblin and Blondie. The Umbryan patriarch also sent envoys to the Aurian family that''ll reach the capital before the Argyrian patriarch and his stampede. If she''s stupid enough to still engage, then she deserves to get what''s coming to her." "It''s not about her, but her people." It took me some time to realize it, but now I see it clearly. This girl¡­she got a little taste of action and got a little too infatuated by it. Now, she clearly wants more of that. That explains her disappointment over us settling down. Hehehe, I can¡¯t say I don¡¯t understand, but she chose the worst person to rant to. "Listen here. I¡¯m not going to argue about this since we¡¯re talking about a worst-case scenario. The Umbryan matriarch can¡¯t possibly be that stupid. Her most likely course of action will be to accept our offer¡ªif she hasn¡¯t already. I didn¡¯t send Blondie and Goblin out there believing they¡¯d fail. Her next move, assuming she has even a shred of intelligence, will be to secure the safety of her people, just as the Umbryan patriarch is busy securing what¡¯s left of his capital." These words effectively silenced the girl. Since we¡¯d already gotten to this point, I decided to press further. "Which is why, Miss Aquaflora, the smartest¡ªand dare I say, the sanest¡ªthing for us to do is to get ready for the battle that¡¯s bound to happen. That¡¯s exactly what my little Licht over here and I are doing¡ªraising our levels. So, excuse us for not jumping on board with whatever plan you¡¯ve cooked up." She bit her lip, clearly frustrated, then turned on her heel, ready to take flight¡ªlikely to head back. "Oh, hell no," I muttered under my breath. "Huh? What are you doing?" Aquaflora barked as she found herself wrapped head to toe in my chains, falling to the ground with a startled yelp. Her iridescent-colored loong, usually wrapped around her neck like a scarf, lunged at me with all the bravery of a snake defending its master. A quick snatch to its neck, however, left it wriggling and hissing helplessly in my grasp. "What are you doing?!" she shouted, her voice rising in panic. "Me?" I replied, feigning innocence. "Nothing much. I was just thinking that since you¡¯re here, and it¡¯s pretty obvious you¡¯re not going to stay put when we go fight the patriarch, you might as well take part in our little level-up program." Grabbing her like a bag of supplies, I turned to Licht with a grin. "Got you a humanoid training partner, Licht." Licht raised both hands in immediate protest, his expression screaming that he wanted no part of this. "Let me goooooooo!" Aquaflora wailed, struggling futilely against the chains. B2. Chapter 27: Training Montage (1) It''s been about ten days since our return to the mansion and a little over a week since we''ve been in the woods trying to raise our level with Licht. And exactly a week since Aquaflora joined us. And hell, it has been a productive week considering what we''re here for¡ªharvesting experience and leveling up. That hasn''t exactly been the case for me, but it certainly has for Licht and Aquaflora, despite her constant whining. "Hiiiiiiiiii!" Aquaflora yelped, dashing through the woods at full throttle atop her broom, fleeing from two manor-sized beasts charging at her at full speed. The broomstick wobbled beneath her, barely holding steady as she ducked low, weaving between the towering trees of the forest. Her breath came in panicked gasps, her hair whipping wildly behind her. Below, the earth rumbled like a drumbeat of doom as lightning bolts were hurled at her by the storming creatures. Three Stormscales hurtled after her, their massive forms tearing through the woods with unstoppable fury. Each beast was a juggernaut of raw power, standing nearly fifteen feet tall with dark, metallic scales streaked with veins of glowing blue lightning. Their elongated snouts bristled with serrated teeth, their jaws wide as they let out guttural, bone-shaking roars. Twin jagged horns crowned their heads, sparking with electric arcs that leapt between them, illuminating the carnage they left in their wake. The first Stormscale barreled ahead, its bulk crashing through a cluster of trees. Trunks exploded into splinters, the sound of snapping wood drowning out even its thunderous footsteps. Its tail¡ªa thick, barbed appendage¡ªlashed out as it ran, carving deep grooves into the forest floor and smashing boulders to rubble. Aquaflora swerved sharply, her broom narrowly avoiding a jutting branch. Her voice cracked as she screamed, "Why are they so FAST?! I''m out! I''m flying up," she announced. "If you do that, I''m personally knocking you out of the sky," I warned as I flew along atop my spiritual sword with far more grace. "Just keep going faster, or if you''re done running, fight it." "There''s no way I''m¡ªEeeeek!" she yelped as one of the Stormscales leapt, using its powerful hind legs to launch itself over a fallen tree, reaching onto her. It was mere meters away from reaching her when something flashed and wedged itself between them, forcing the creature to abort its attack and land with a deafening crash. The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, toppling smaller saplings. Its claws¡ªcurved like sickles and sharp enough to carve through stone¡ªraked furiously at the earth as it quickly recovered, ready to attack again. The obstacle that thwarted its attempt was none other than Licht, who had been following along, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. That opportunity had just presented itself again in the form of the Stormscale that just got back on his legs. Licht hurled himself at the creature with precision and force, only to be interrupted when a second Stormscale, abandoning its pursuit of Aquaflora, turned its attention toward him, making him its primary target. This shift left Aquaflora being chased by just one of the Stormscales instead of two. With the focus shifting away from the group as a whole, it became clear just how threatening the creature was on its own. Slightly smaller than the two that had teamed up to deal with Licht, it was no less terrifying. Its glowing eyes, like molten gold filled with primal intelligence, locked onto her as its horns flared with crackling electric energy. A bolt of lightning shot from its horns, arcing dangerously close to both Aquaflora and me. The bolt struck a tree ahead, splitting it clean down the middle. We¡¯d just barely avoided the falling trunk, when we find ourselves forced to dodge again as more lightning bolts streaked toward us. Aquaflora screamed and, just like I did, veered upward, her broom humming with a strained effort. Explosions resound beneath. Below, shattered trees crashed directly in the path of the lead Stormscale. Unfazed, the beast didn''t even flinch. It bulldozed through the falling trunks with brute force, splintering them as it charged forward relentlessly. "It¡¯s going to tear this whole forest apart! Where did you even find those things?" Aquaflora whined, her knuckles white as she clung desperately to the broom. "From their lair, obviously." After taking down the pack leader, these three¡ªmost likely the remaining strongest in the entire lair¡ªgave chase to me. Naturally, I led them straight to Licht and Aquaflora. "Lair?! There was more of these things?!" "Yep, so much more. So consider yourself lucky to have to deal with just these." "How am I supposed to consider myself lucky over this!" "Because you only had to deal with one," I replied, before realizing that leaving Licht alone might not have been the best idea. My gaze flicked toward the girl, who, from her change of expression, caught up with my thought. "You better no¡ª¡± "Stop running and fight back," I interrupted, just before delivering a heavy blow to the Stormscale, sending it crashing to the ground with a resounding thud. Turning sharply to Aquaflora, I pointed at her with a stern, warning glare. "Stop running and fight back. Should I catch you running again, I¡¯ll take you to their lair and leave you there to deal with the rest that remained in the nest," I threatened, before darting off in the direction where I had left Licht. Although Aquaflora was around the same age as me¡ªor perhaps slightly older¡ªit would be easy to assume she was as strong as I am. That, however, was far from the truth. Unlike me, who had spent years honing my strength by throwing myself into dangerous situations, she had lived a relatively peaceful life. As a result, despite our similar ages, she lagged significantly behind in strength. In fact, even the much younger Licht surpassed her in this regard. But then again, Licht is a Verdenkind, and she¡¯s an elf. Comparing strength between humans and elves is far more complicated due to the inherent differences in how their systems are structured. In the human system, there¡¯s a recurring theme across all classes: they¡¯re almost entirely battle-focused. While some may lean away from combat, such classes are rare exceptions. In contrast, elven systems differ significantly. Many elven classes are not explicitly designed for battle, and even those that are, such as Sylvan Enchanters or Memory Keepers, often excel in non-combat domains as well. Having different classes and attribute distributions already makes relying on level to gauge actual strength difficult, even among humans, so naturally, when you factor in the complex elven affinity leveling system, it becomes an even more convoluted mess. Depending on how an elf has invested their points¡ªwhether in non-battle-focused subaffinities or battle-focused ones¡ªa low-level elf could be far weaker than a human counterpart or, conversely, much stronger. For elves, low levels are generally considered 1 to 10, mid levels 10 to 20, and anything beyond that is high level. As elves reach mid level, a certain trend emerges: assuming they haven¡¯t funneled all their affinity points into non-combat subaffinities, mid-level elves are typically stronger than their human counterparts of the same level. However, beyond that point, the balance becomes a convoluted mess again, largely because of factors like the existence of the sigil known as"ancestral tree." This further complicates comparisons, making it impossible to assess strength simply by looking at levels. When considering the advantages elves possess, the most notable is their ability to specialize through the affinity system. However, this strength comes with the inherent risk of overspecialization. Investing heavily in one area often means neglecting others. Humans, while lacking control over which skills they acquire, sometimes benefit from "luck"¡ªa polite way of saying the system typically grants a skill to address a class''s shortcomings. Of course, how well that "luck" works out depends entirely on one¡¯s fortune. Elves can also hope for such luck, as it isn¡¯t unique to humans. However, because elves have the ability to choose their path of specialization, they often grapple with the weight of decision-making¡ªwondering what to invest their points in and how. This gives them the illusion that their destiny is entirely within their control, though as Goblin aptly put it, it¡¯s really not. Despite this belief, many elves attempt to mitigate the issue of overspecialization early on by opting for a subclass instead of a core class. A subclass allows them to leverage multiple core affinities simultaneously, rather than focusing exclusively on one, as is the case with a core class. Of course, this choice comes with its own set of drawbacks, but sometimes, to combat one challenge, a necessary compromise must be made. Aquaflora¡¯s class, Swamp Witch, is one such subclass. It provides her with better returns when investing in Nature and Spiritual subaffinities, while also allowing her to allocate points into subaffinities of the Arcane and Elemental affinities. Over the past century, she has invested most of the affinity points she¡¯s harvested into the latter¡ªElemental affinity.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. From that alone, you could say that she''s chosen the class that offers her the most options, but despite the numerous affinities available to her through her class and their associated benefits, the stark reality is that at her current level, she''s barely keeping up compared to Licht, who is 20 levels her junior. It might seem unfair to judge her, especially given her focus over the past century. But can you really blame me for expecting more from someone who has shown as much eagerness for battle as she has? What? Am I trying to punish her for that insolence? Definitely not. I''m just trying to bring that girl back to reality before she gets herself killed. I only have the best in her mind; who else but someone that has that in mind would bother helping her level up and acquire some more of these precious affinity points? See, I''m all and pure kindness. Reaching Licht, I arrived just in time to find him locked in the middle of an intense battle with the Stormscales. Their relentless attacks left him no room to counter¡ªwhether it was their lightning strikes, which turned everything they touched to ash, or their powerful pounces enhanced by the skill [Titanic Press], strong enough to bring down massive trees. Despite the onslaught, Licht managed to evade their attacks with remarkable skill, remaining unharmed¡ªa feat that would have been impossible if even one of their blows had connected. Each of the attack looked like they could either turn him to ashes or turn him to paste. As a knight, his dexterity was impressive, but it didn¡¯t escape my notice that his movements were growing sluggish under the constant pressure. "It seems I made the right call coming back¡ªtwo really is a bit much for him," I thought to myself. I was ready to step in and handle the situation but decided against it, choosing instead to interfere only if absolutely necessary. That moment came a few minutes later. Exhausted from dodging, Licht finally attempted a counterattack. Unfortunately, his strike was intercepted by a stray bolt from one of the Stormscales. While the bolt didn¡¯t land a heavy blow, it destabilized him just enough to leave him unable to retreat from the pouncing attack of one of the mythical beasts. It was about to crush him when I intervened, using my Draconic Breath skill. The breath attack knocked the creature back forcefully, and its crystallizing aftereffect encased the beast in a thick layer of ice. It wasn¡¯t dead, but it was incapacitated long enough for Licht to recover and refocus on the remaining Stormscale. The distraction I provided allowed Licht to land his first decisive blow¡ªa strike he quickly followed with a flurry of attacks until the creature was no more. With one down, he turned his attention to the immobilized beast, which didn¡¯t last much longer than the first. Seeing how quickly it ended, I couldn¡¯t help but regret interfering¡ªit must have significantly reduced his experience gain. But what was done was done. Moving on, I approached him, clapping and offering praise. "Well done." Still breathing heavily, he managed a grin. "Thanks for the help earlier¡ªyou made it manageable. What level... human-level equivalent are these things?" "I¡¯d say each of them is something I wouldn¡¯t recommend the average level 45 to 50 Verdenkind to approach," I replied. "Oh," he said, clearly proud of himself. "And you? At what level would you have handled these?" "Me?" I chuckled. "Boy, did you forget what I am? I¡¯m a Kinslayer. I¡¯m far better suited to take on those aforementioned Verdenkind than these creatures." He grunted in response, then glanced around. "Where¡¯s Aquaflora? Is she already done?" "No." His brow furrowed. "You left her alone against one of those?" Having fought alongside her during the stampede and trained with her over the past week, he was well aware of her capabilities¡ªor lack thereof. "She¡¯s fine," I said, summoning a sword for him to ride on. "At least, I hope," I added as we dashed through the forest toward where she was still locked in combat. When we arrived, she hadn¡¯t noticed us. She was fully engrossed in her fight against the Stormscale, her soot-covered face and scorched clothes evidence that she¡¯d been caught by its attacks. Despite her disheveled state, the battle didn¡¯t look too dire for her¡ªshe was holding her own, if just barely. Hovering high in the air atop her broom, Aquaflora kept herself well beyond the creature''s reach, forcing it to rely solely on magical attacks. She dodged these with surprising precision, all while unleashing her own elemental attacks. Though her strikes, aided by her serpentine companion wrapped around her like a scarf, didn¡¯t deal much damage, at least they consistently landed¡ªunlike the creature¡¯s. It should be noted that she wasn¡¯t simply evading and letting her loong do all the work. She actively contributed, using skills to summon massive roots from beneath the creature. These roots either tried to restrain it¡ªonly to be incinerated by the electricity it generated¡ªor lashed at it with powerful whipping strikes, which seemed to inflict the most significant damage. The battle was painfully drawn out, but eventually, the massive creature collapsed¡ªor rather, it was brought down by a final, enormous root she summoned. As the creature let out its dying wails, Aquaflora waited, visibly exhausted, until the cries subsided. Only then did she descend to the ground, allowing herself to fall to her knees, completely breathless. At that moment, Licht and I approached, clapping in unison. "That was a marvelous battle," I praised. "Truly a delight for the eyes." "You..." she started, lifting her gaze, but her exhaustion made it difficult for her to complain. "I admit it was a bit slow, but hey, nobody''s perfect¡ª" I began, stopping mid-sentence. Aquaflora, noticing my expression, raised her eyes warily. "What is it?" Licht echoed, "What¡¯s wrong?" Pricking up her ears, Aquaflora''s eyes narrowed. "We¡¯ve got guests," I announced to the duo. Though nothing was yet visible, moments later, they appeared¡ªa group of Stormscales, emerging from all corners to surround us. "What are they doing here?" Aquaflora asked, her voice tense. "Erm, I¡¯d say it might have something to do with the three colony members you guys just killed," I replied nonchalantly. "Or, you know, it could be something else." Something else, I thought, like them coming here for the same reason the others had¡ªto avenge their younglings. But neither Aquaflora nor Licht needed to know about that little detail. Glancing at the two of them, I noticed they both looked at me with expectant expressions. "What? Nobody¡¯s volunteering to deal with this?" I asked. "Certainly not me," Aquaflora retorted. "Yeah, me neither," Licht added, shaking his head. I sighed. "Alright, I guess this is going to be free experience for me, then," I said, raising an arm. Activating Judgment of the Firmament, I summoned colossal lances that manifested in the sky and crashed down with thunderous might, smiting the Stormscales in a violent display of power. Most of them were impaled and killed instantly¡ªthough not all. One of the creatures managed to evade the deadly strike. True to the vengeful tendencies of its kind, it charged forward with a furious roar. But midway through its charge, it suddenly stopped, its gaze shifting upward. I looked up as well. Whatever it sensed, I sensed too¡ªsomething high in the sky. And now, it was making its presence loudly known. "What is that," Aquaflora asked. To which Licht also surmised himself doubting his word, "A whale?" Licht guessed it was a whale because the sound we all heard resembled a whale¡¯s call. More importantly, the massive creature above actually looked like a whale. But what were the chances of a whale in the sky? Close to none, a reasonable person might say. Yet, there it was¡ªa gigantic whale-like being floating in midair as naturally as a whale would in the ocean. It was pure white, like paper, with only a touch of green on its back, which appeared to fence off what looked like a settlement nestled on the creature''s immense frame. The Stormscale, seeing the whale-like entity as a threat¡ªunderstandable given its sheer size¡ªcharged up a powerful lightning attack and unleashed it toward the behemoth¡¯s tail. But before the bolt could strike, something shot out from the creature¡¯s back. In comparison to the colossal whale, the figure looked insignificant¡ªa mere dot against a vast expanse. Yet, that tiny figure powered through the lightning bolt, intercepting it mid-descent, and crashed heavily onto the Stormscale. The impact was deafening. The unmistakable sound of a skull shattering echoed, followed by a sickening splatter. The Stormscale lay motionless, its head crushed. Standing atop the broken remains of the beast was its killer. As he brushed off the blood from his dramatic entrance, the figure pushed back his raven-black hair, revealing a sharp wolf cut. He stepped forward, his movements deliberate yet unhurried. It was a he, undeniably tall and imposing. He loomed like a fortress, with broad shoulders tapering into a narrow, muscular waist. His thick arms hung at his sides, and his hunched posture gave him the predatory air of someone coiled and ready to strike. The closer he came, the more his sheer presence grew, the distance only amplifying the sense of threat. Blessed with great genetics, I rarely felt short around men. Yet, the one in front of me was an exception¡ªone of the rare few who made me feel small. That is, assuming he could even be called a man. On first glance, everything about him suggested humanity, but one detail quickly shattered that illusion: the lynchantropic ears. As striking as his inhuman pair of ears were, their presence was somehow overshadowed by the ethereal chains that clung to him. The chains phased in and out of visibility, emitting a faint metallic chime when he moved. They pulsed with a fiery glow, perfectly synchronized with his heartbeat, as though they were alive¡ªa living curse bound to his essence. "You..." Aquaflora recognized him instantly. Of course, she would. Why wouldn¡¯t she? He was one of those who had helped arrange her escape alongside Blondie, and Goblin, saving the other Argyrian-descent villagers who later settled in Mistwood Harbor. He was also there when Goblin, Blondie and White stopped Alexander when he was seconds away from killing her. As he closed the distance, he bent slightly to address the height difference and greeted me in a voice that, as always, feels unexpectedly gentle for someone of his stature. "Ma¡¯am..." Reaching up to his head, now perfectly within reach, I patted it and said with genuine joy, "Welcome back, Bortz." B2. Chapter 28: New destination Since I came up with that new method of reincarnating Dungeon Masters, it''s no exaggeration to say I''ve reared six children, five of whom were Dungeon Masters and the last one was Blondie. However, Blondie wasn''t the last one; that title belonged to Dungeon Master 10, formerly known as Charlie, who arrived much later and came with something that made him a little different than the other dungeon masters¡ªhe was human, much like Blondie. Unlike his fellow dungeon masters who were under my care because they weren''t human and as such it was up to me to raise them to be bona fide beings of the respective species they reincarnated into. The youngest of that small circle of non-human dungeon masters was him, the tall "man" who looked to be in his mid-twenties, standing in front of me. "How did you find me?" I asked him¡ªby the surname that ultimately wound up sticking to him¡ªBortz, by his dungeon master appellation, Dungeon Master 13. "I heard from Goblin''s little bird that you were training somewhere around these parts, then as I searched around I felt that commotion and I knew you were here, Ma''am." "Good," I said, tapping him on the shoulder, a genuine smile on my face. Then, noting how his eyes were on the people behind me, I made an introduction, "Everyone, this not-so-little-boy is Ivan, my favorite child after, of course, Blondie. He''s also known as Bortz to those most intimate," I said, tempted to reveal who he was as a Dungeon Master to Licht since I didn''t see any particular harm to it, even if I said the name. Aquaflora, who was the only non-dungeon master present, wouldn''t understand anything, but ultimately, I chose not to. Licht most likely figured out who he was anyway. "Bortz, this... I don''t think I even have to introduce you two, you clearly already know each other, right Miss Aquaflora?" Staring at him with an apprehensive eye, much like she at first constantly glared at Licht, "Yes, we''ve met before, that being said, we didn''t exchange names." "Oh, well now you have," I declared. At these words, Bortz looked at me, nodded, then with a simple nod of the head acknowledged her existence. While the greeting lacked the warmth expected from an "introduction," even though it wasn''t much of one, it wasn''t cold either. The way he looked was far less colder than the way I noticed Goblin stared at Aquaflora; it was like he would throw himself at her throat without notice. Here at least there was none of the antagonism, there was just indifference, which is, in a sense, a relief. After all, he went through the same thing that made Goblin hate anything remotely Argyrian so much, but it seemed that it only affected Goblin that much. That makes sense; he has much more reason to hate these people than Bortz and Blondie have other than what last happened. His hatred of them was more of an amalgamation of previously bottled emotions. Anyway, that''s a relief to see that it''s at least just him. Moving the attention away from Aquaflora, I then pointed at Licht and introduced the two Dungeon Masters, "Bortz, this is Licht," I simply said. Immediately a difference between the two greetings was apparent; Bortz immediately approached Licht, who began, "We missed the opportunity to meet each other several months ago... I''ve heard a lot about you, but I didn''t expect you to be this impressive looking," he praised, genuinely eyeing Bortz up and down. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Licht was by no means short, but he wasn''t exactly what you could call tall. From the look of him, one could tell that he could have been taller, but he was caught up in the sweet curse that is suffering from one''s own success, namely that he leveled his longevity skill to level 2 before his height reached its full potential. At level 1, longevity eliminates the physical deterioration that comes with old age without actually removing the aging factor, allowing the wielder of the skill to stay forever in their ¡°prime¡± until the end of their lives. At level 2, it locks the wielder in the age they achieve that feat, meaning that it could be any age; for Licht, it was an age where he''s yet to finish growing. Of course, if one compares his situation to the both extremely unfortunate and extremely fortunate Dungeon Master 04, who managed to level that skill before he got out of middle childhood, he should consider himself lucky, very lucky. But that didn''t change the fact that compared to a giant like Bortz, he looked like what he very recently was: a teenager, one that ironically looked like he clearly admired Bortz for the physique he boasted. "I''ve heard about you too," Bortz said. "From Goblin and Blondie." "Oh," Licht paused apprehensively, "I hope they said good things about me." "They have, especially Blondie," Bortz smiled, one that I could tell Licht suspected to be sarcastic, but as he extended his hand for a handshake, he gave doubt to accept the handshake that Bortz, not surprisingly for me turned into a warm embrace. I chuckled, as I said, "Don''t let his intimidating corpulence give you the wrong idea, there is no gentler soul than my little Bortz over here," stroking his back. "Wanna know what his appearance doesn''t belie about him? His reliability, which is why he was the one I sent alone to seek help from the Ferron Family patriarch." At these words, Bortz turned to me with an expression that brought a smile to my face. Glancing up at the behemoth white whale hovering up above with a settlement on its back, I asked, "Is that what I think it is?" Bortz nodded. "It is. A gift from the Ferron family patriarch so that my journey back is smoother and that I deliver his answer to you faster," he explained. Yes, I didn''t need to be told for I knew with assurance what the answer was. Picking up on the answer, Aquaflora asked, "He accepted?" "He did," Bortz confirmed with a nod after receiving confirmation to divulge the intel. Then noticing him with an inquiring glance that told me there were more, and giving him the aval to just spill the info out. "Just like, I have heard from Blondie and Goblin, also have agreed the Matriarch of the Aurian family to the coalition to take down the maddened Argyrian patriarch and his stampede." "Oh," I went, genuinely surprised by the news, "I didn''t expect two good news to be announced to me like that today," I asked. "When did you receive that news?" "This morning, Ma''am," he explained. "I initially intended to wait for you at the mansion, but then I received the news from Goblin, he and Blondie are now heading for the next destination." "Oh," I voiced again pleasantly. "Next destination, where''s that?" Licht and Aquaflora asked. I looked at them and smiled, "Our rendez-vous point," I declared. "Pack your things, people, training days are over, we must get moving to not make these two wait for us long." "Where are we heading?" Licht asked. I looked at him with a smile then announced, "Where else but Argyrian Territory, where it all began." B2. Chapter 29: Argyrian Capital Though sudden, our next destination was decided the moment I received the news I''d been awaiting. We didn¡¯t even stop at the mansion; instead, we headed directly north to the Argyrian lands. It might have seemed like a spontaneous decision, but it wasn¡¯t. From the moment I received the Umbryan patriarch¡¯s approval¡ªno, even before that¡ªI knew we¡¯d have to go there eventually. But considering what I was heading there for, it would be pointless to get there without Goblin. That''s why I had to bide my time until I was sure Goblin and Blondie had completed their mission. Training Aquaflora and Licht to level up was the best way to use that time, and I¡¯d say I did pretty damn well. Now, atop a literal flying fortress on the back of the White Whale making its way north¡ªI leaned over the balustrade, watching as Veilleuse-19 darted through clouds. The whale, or to be more exact, the arrangement on its back¡ªa castle and a large rectangular yard¡ªwas large enough to host her, but she preferred the wind. Watching Veilleuse-19 fly, absentmindedly, I was distilling the information I¡¯d received privately from Bortz. Noting the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth, Bortz, standing beside me, spoke up. ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± ¡°Mh?¡± ¡°You look very satisfied,¡± he ventured. My smile widened. ¡°That¡¯s because I am.¡± Once we had time alone, I had Bortz recount everything he couldn¡¯t tell me in front of Licht and Aquaflora. He¡¯d successfully accomplished the mission I¡¯d assigned, which went far beyond securing the Ferron patriarch¡¯s agreement to join our coalition against the maddened Argyrian patriarch. His achievements didn¡¯t stop there. On top of securing this flying fortress from the Ferron Patriarch, Bortz had also convinced him to do something important for us. Having finished briefing me about his achievements, he also updated me on the progress of Blondie and Goblin, whom he had a way of keeping tabs on, just as they did on mine. No, it wasn¡¯t because he had better communication methods than us¡ªhe used the same little bird Goblin entrusted to us for communication. The difference was that unlike me, Bortz and Goblin could actually interpret the information the bird received and transmitted telepathically. When Goblin handed us the bird, I¡¯d hoped that Aquaflora¡¯s swamp witch abilities would include understanding animals or monsters, but no such luck. She was limited to one-way communication, leaving us with patchy intel until now. Bortz confirmed that Blondie and Goblin had accomplished their mission in the Aurian capital, convincing their matriarch to join our coalition. That wasn¡¯t without its challenges, of course. One of such challenge was, as expected, facing an arrogant monarch who believed herself strong enough to handle the Argyrian patriarch alone. Much like the Umbryan Patriarch, her pride initially blinded her. However, with Goblin and Blondie¡¯s insistence, the grim news from Umbryan lands, and a sample of the Stampede¡¯s might, she reconsidered. Instead of meeting the patriarch in battle, she planned a siege¡ªa poor decision she quickly abandoned. Ultimately, she agreed to our coalition and to the same clause I had the Umbryan family patriarch accept. A that determined the fate of the Argyrian family. ¡°Things developed smoother than I could¡¯ve imagined,¡± I said, smiling at Bortz. ¡°Sure, a certain Dungeon Master could¡¯ve handled the argyrians envoys better than outright slaughtering them, but I won¡¯t pretend I¡¯m not the type to care only about results. And the results are good, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± He nodded. ¡°Yes, they are.¡± Looking ahead, I took a deep breath before turning back to him. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± ¡°Right now? Excited, I suppose.¡± He glanced at his hands, around which chains coiled, clenching his fists tight. Tightly enough to make an audible noise. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to fight him, retrieve [Rule and Overrule], and avenge Charlie and Frank.¡± ¡°Avenge, huh?¡± I echoed, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Did you forget? We¡¯re Dungeon Masters. We don¡¯t do revenge. We bring justice. And justice can be as bloody as it has to be.¡± He smiled. ¡°My bad, Ma¡¯am. You¡¯re right. Justice.¡± A moment of silence settled between us as we stared ahead. When I glanced at him, something in his silence struck me. ¡°Is there something you want to tell me?¡± I asked. He winced. ¡°You know me too well.¡± ¡°Of course I do. What is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s about...him,¡± He glanced around. ¡°How much does he know about everything?¡± ¡°Licht?¡± I glanced back at him, then simply answered, ¡°Just enough.¡± ¡°So he doesn¡¯t know about that authority and what else we¡¯re here for, does he?¡± I shook my head in confirmation. ¡°He doesn¡¯t, but I¡¯ll have to tell him soon. Once we get to the Argyrian lands, we¡¯ll brief him about everything.¡± ¡°He won¡¯t be happy about that,¡± Bortz said. I frowned at his words. While we Dungeon Masters share the same root and purpose, he and Licht are practically strangers, yet the way he spoke of Licht, it was as if he knew what to expect from Licht.¡°Goblin told you about his reaction to Blondie, didn¡¯t he?¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. His grimace made the answer obvious. ¡°I understand where you¡¯re coming from,¡± I reassured, stepping closer and patting his shoulder. ¡°And I concede he won¡¯t be happy about it. But I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll complain for long. He might be Dungeon Master 07¡¯s little prot¨¦g¨¦, but he¡¯s surprisingly flexible. And, with the time we¡¯ve spent together, he¡¯s grown to trust my ways.¡± Smiling, I added jokingly, ¡°In a sense, you could say I¡¯ve successfully corrupted him.¡± ¡°I see.¡± Bortz nodded. ¡°It was then pointless for me to bring that up.¡± ¡°Not at all,¡± I reassured him, before asking after a moment, ¡°uncomfortable lying to allies and fellow Dungeon Masters?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say I¡¯m comfortable, but I understand why it¡¯s necessary. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m colluding against them, so I¡¯m fine.¡± Sympathizing, I patted his shoulder again. ¡°Sorry for making you do this. It¡¯ll be over soon enough.¡± *** The journey to the Argyrian capital felt far smoother than the one to the Umbryan capital. Partly, this was due to the shorter distance; the forest where we had been training was much closer to the Argyrian capital than to the Umbryan Capital. Even so, the trip still spanned four days, though it could have been halved if we¡¯d taken Veilleuse-19. However, since we had the flying fortress at our disposal, we opted to use it. Given that the fortress included accommodations like a castle¡ªwith ample space, respite, and entertainment, not to mention the staff¡ªit really didn¡¯t feel like four days at all. I stood on the same balustrade where I had spoken with Bortz, but this time Licht and Aquaflora were at my sides. Ahead of us lay the Argyrian capital. ¡°So this is the Argyrian capital,¡± Licht mused aloud. ¡°It¡¯s... different.¡± Just a glimpse. That was enough to notice the difference between the Umbryan Capital and the Argyrian Capital. The Umbryan capital was vast, protected by its patriarch ancestral tree, its dark structures molded from local woods. In contrast, the Argyrian capital, missing the protective barrier, occupied a much more compact territory. Two dominant colors stood out: the blue of the rooftops and the light palette of the marble-like buildings. From a distance, particularly from the elevated perspective from which we viewed the capital, one might be reminded of the pseudo-baroque architecture favored by the nobles of the Land of Men. However, a closer look would quickly dispel this notion. The architecture of the Argyrian capital was rougher and more organic, evoking the essence of cities carved into cliffsides or nestled in mountainous terrain. Here, though, the capital was arrayed around a depression, rather than perched atop heights. ¡°How does it feel to be back where your elven ancestors came from?¡± I asked Aquaflora. She didn¡¯t appreciate the tease but answered nonetheless. ¡°It¡¯s at least a little different without the ancestral tree surrounding the city. But it¡¯s still the same, I suppose.¡± ¡°Bringing back bad memories?¡± ¡°You already know the answer to that... Now tell me. Why are we even here?¡± Over the past few days, ever since we reunited with Bortz and he informed us of the recent developments, Licht and Aquaflora had been unusually quiet. If this had been their earlier selves, before the trip to the Umbryan capital, they¡¯d have bombarded me with questions. But now? Nothing. The fortress¡¯s distractions likely played a part, but I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the results delivered to them had bolstered their confidence in my "mysterious" actions. I felt a little bad knowing I was about to betray that trust. ¡°Why are we here?¡± I echoed, before casually revealing, ¡°we''re to cripple the Argyrian patriarch by taking away one of his most valuable resources: his peo¡ªoh.¡± My words trailed off as I spotted small figures flying upward to meet us. ¡°About time,¡± I thought, surprised they had let the behemoth get this close to their capital. In that moment, Bortz joined us on the deck, and I announced, ¡°We¡¯ve got a welcoming party.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve noticed,¡± he replied. Noting something in his expression, I asked, ¡°Something?¡± ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am. They¡¯re here.¡± ¡°They?¡± I didn¡¯t need to think hard to guess who. ¡°Already?¡± I murmured in surprise. ¡°They must have pushed that poor beast to its limit to arrive this fast. But well, it¡¯s perfect timing.¡± After waiting no more than a minute, ¡°they¡± appeared in the sky atop the Caarghast, which soon made a smooth landing on the deck. Blondie and Goblin dismounted the friendly creature, and the first thing Blondie did was rush to me for a warm embrace. Patting her blonde hair, I teased, ¡°Did you miss me that much?¡± She nodded. ¡°Well,¡± I smiled, ¡°we¡¯re all together now.¡± As I welcomed Blondie back, I saw Goblin approach Bortz with open arms. ¡°Where¡¯s my hug, brother? I want my hug!¡± Bortz, naturally, obliged. ¡°Sigh. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever say this to another man, but I really missed you, dude,¡± Goblin said dramatically. ¡°I missed you too.¡± ¡°Hey! Let go now. Let¡¯s not make this weird,¡± Goblin said, moving on to Licht. ¡°My brother from another mother and father, I missed you too.¡± Ignoring Licht¡¯s outstretched hand for a handshake, he pulled him into an awkward embrace. Arriving before me just as Blondie finished, Goblin¡¯s demeanor shifted. His voice sobered as he said, ¡°Ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°What?¡± I stared at him. ¡°You won¡¯t give me a hug?¡± ¡°I would like to,¡± he said apprehensively. ¡°But something tells me you¡¯ll trap me in a vicious bear hug.¡± ¡°Just come here,¡± I said, snatching him up. True to his prediction, I squeezed him tightly, enough to make him squeal. ¡°Ouuuuch, why?!¡± ¡°You and I need to have a very serious discussion.¡± At my words, Goblin almost seemed to forget he was being squeezed. ¡°About what?¡± he asked, before immediately jumping to his own¡ªwrong¡ªconclusion. Looking at Bortz, he accused, ¡°Bortz, you snitched on me, didn¡¯t you? Blondie, I told you not to tell him about it. Now look, he snitched on me.¡± Blondie, like a guilty but unapologetic child, immediately ran to hide behind Bortz, giggling. ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking about what you think I am,¡± I said, releasing him and causing him to fall to his knees, panting. ¡°But we¡¯re going to talk about that too.¡± Goblin remained on the ground, coughing and panting, until he noticed a certain half-elven girl nearby. Instantly regaining his composure, he donned his usual cloak of condescension when looking at her. With a sigh at the scene before me, I said, ¡°Now then, everyone. As much as I¡¯d love for us to fully enjoy this reunion,¡±¡ªmy gaze went to the floating figures approaching from the capital¡ª"we first need to deal with the welcoming committee.¡± B2. Chapter 30: Lee A gentle hum echoed across the fortress, a sound that came and went, an odd but constant reminder that we were not on solid ground but perched atop a colossal, flying whale. The enormity of it never failed to humble me. The sound of water being poured filled the warm, misty air. Two young female Terran Elves moved gracefully through the haze, their rust-colored hair bouncing with each step. They approached a large, ornate basin nearby, their slender fingers sprinkling aromatic crystals into the water. As the crystals dissolved, the water warmed, releasing a fragrant mist that mingled with the existing ambient vapors. The room, already saturated with warmth and scent, became even more inviting. These two elves were part of the twenty or so Terran elves stationed here, forming the aerial fortress¡¯s staff. Being of an age¡ªor, at the very least, appearance and gender that made her fit to serve me¡ªone of the girls has been assigned to me, and ever since, she has been eager to assist me, even during moments like this. The other girl was the one assigned to Blondie. We were currently in the fortress¡¯s bath area, a space as expansive as a one-story mansion. I sat on a cushioned stool beside one of the smaller pools, Blondie¡¯s back resting against my knees. Her long blonde hair cascaded over my hands, damp and heavy. I combed through the strands carefully, marveling at the luxuriousness of this Ferron bathhouse. Despite its otherworldly design, it put even the grandest bathhouses I¡¯d visited in the land of men to shame¡ªand I¡¯m saying that as someone who¡¯s been a Queen. The first time I experienced a Ferron bathhouse, I¡¯d suspected its creator might be from another world. But no, it was simply my overthinking. This technology¡ªor rather, the ersatz of technology¡ªwas entirely Ferron in origin. The harsh, cold climate of their homeland had just compelled them to develop bathhouses that not only shielded them from the deadly cold but also turned bathing into a surprisingly enjoyable experience. As the fragrant mist thickened, the two elves turned their attention to a certain someone swimming in a nearby pool. Despite the goblin¡¯s protests and splashes, they insisted on scrubbing him clean. Ignoring the commotion he caused, I focused on the task at hand. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since we bathed like this together,¡± I murmured to Blondie, my voice soft. The heat, the scents, the way the steam curled around us¡ªit all stirred memories of her childhood. Back then, we bathed together in the old wooden tub at the mansion. As the years passed, there was less and less room for the two of us, until eventually, there wasn¡¯t any. She nodded slightly, careful not to disrupt my work. ¡°I missed this,¡± she said. I smiled, reaching for the bowl of herbal wash beside me. ¡°Me too.¡± The mixture, a blend of mountain herbs and oils, was said to nourish the hair and cleanse the soul. While I was skeptical about the latter, I couldn¡¯t deny its effect on hair. It was enough to convince me to use it on Blondie¡¯s beautiful locks. ¡°Careful with the eyes,¡± I warned. She complied, resting her cheeks on her knees as I gently poured warm water over her hair. The damp strands caught the light, shimmering like tiny stars. I massaged the mixture into her scalp with slow, circular motions, my fingers weaving through her hair. From the now-muted sounds behind me, I could tell the attendants had miraculously managed to calm the goblin. And indeed, when I glanced back, I saw the goblin being scrubbed clean, sulking in silence. Once I finished tending to Blondie¡¯s hair and noticed the attendants were done with the goblin, I signaled for them to leave. They bowed and exited gracefully, allowing us to resume our earlier conversation. ¡°Goblin, I will ask again, and this will be the last time,¡± I said, my tone firm. ¡°Are you sure about your earlier decision?¡± Goblin stepped out of the pool, droplets of water tracing rivulets down his barely curved body. Without a hint of shame, ¡°he¡± asked, ¡°I already gave my answer.¡± ¡°And I want to be sure it¡¯s not one you¡¯ll regret,¡± I replied, standing to face him. ¡°Do you not like my decision?¡± he countered. ¡°No. In fact, I like it. It¡¯s the choice that¡¯ll be the most convenient to me. But that¡¯s exactly why I want to be sure it¡¯s what you truly want. Because once things are set into motion, they can¡¯t be undone. So I need to know if it''s truly what you desire.¡± He walked over to a rack and retrieved a peignoir, slipping it on as he approached. ¡°My ultimate decision remains the same,¡± he said firmly. Handing me and Blondie a towel, he continued, ¡°I know it might seem like I¡¯ve chosen this path because this option lets me maim down these assholes. And I won''t deny that it''s one of the main reasons I''m okay with this outcome. But I have other, far more sensible reasons for believing that this is the best possible outcome, so no, I''m not going to regret my decision.¡± ¡°I see,¡± I said quietly, accepting the towel. "I look forward to it," he said, a vicious look spreading across his face. At this point, there was little I could do but smile warmly in response. "Patience," I said. "It¡¯s for soon¡ªvery soon. I just need to get everything ready. Namely, inform Licht, prepare¡ª" I paused, my words catching in my throat as, in the corner of my vision, the very person I was about to mention appeared at the room''s entrance. Following my gaze, Goblin''s frown deepened instantly at the sight of Aquaflora. "Well, I¡¯ll let you get everything ready then," he said, asking Blondie, "You¡¯re coming with me or?" Blondie exchanged a brief nod with me, then stood and followed him out of the bathhouse. I watched them leave before returning my attention to Aquaflora. After a moment of silence, as she closed in, she asked the question she was bound to ask, "Who was that little girl?" I burst into hearty laughter at her question. As I calmed down, I asked her, "Do you know any lunor elves who would look at you the way she just did?" It took her a moment, but eventually, she registered the implication. "That was Goblin? That little child was Goblin?" I don¡¯t think Goblin gave you the credentials to call him that nickname but well¡­ "It was," I confirmed. "How?" "How else but skills?" I explained, as that was the usual answer to any supernatural phenomenon in this world. At his birth, like many of us Dungeon Masters, Goblin exhibited a unique trait: he unlocked innate skills or abilities. However, what set him apart¡ªa peculiarity I attributed to his elven heritage¡ªwas the sheer number of skills he was born with. Unlike most of us, who are typically reborn with one skill, perhaps two if we are lucky, and on the rare occasion, an ability, Goblin was an anomaly. He came into this world with several skills and abilities, far exceeding the norm. I could only rationalize this extraordinary beginning by pointing to his elfhood, specifically the unique aspects of the elven system into which he was born. From the start, he had three sub-affinities prepared for him to allocate affinity points: Blood from the elemental main affinity, and BeastBinding and Fleshweaving from the nature main affinity. These sub-affinities seemed tailored to match the skills he innately acquired, aligning perfectly with his unusual capabilities. Among these myriad skills, there was one skill and one ability that particularly transformed Goblin¡ªfor better or worse. The skill, Assimilation, and the ability, Attributes Adaptation, worked in remarkable harmony. Together, they allowed him to absorb a monster completely, encompassing its skills and abilities. The ability, Attributes Adaptation, ensured this absorption was feasible by adapting Goblin''s body to match that of the monster¡ªa crucial adaptation that the skill alone did not guarantee. This combination of skill and ability was not only convenient but also versatile. It worked in perfect sync not only with [Assimilation] but also with [Physiomorph], another skill of his that would typically allow the wielder to alter their form to a certain extent, one that doesn¡¯t encompass change like gender. With Attributes Adaptation, however, he could take on any form he deemed suitable for himself and the circumstances. In retrospect, if I, in my earliest days, when I was still brimming with that masculine pride, had possessed such a convenient set of skills and abilities, I would have chosen a distinctly manly form and died with it. However, over time, as I came to accept my condition for what it was¡ªsince time has a way of fostering acceptance¡ªGoblin grew comfortable with his various forms, embracing them with an ease I, too, have come to admire. It didn¡¯t take him long; by the time he could crawl, he was as comfortable being Lee as he was being Lee.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Aquaflora seemed to take a moment to process what she¡¯d heard before finally speaking. "That explains the glare.¡± Making her way toward the pool Goblin had just exited, she asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t interrupt anything, did I?" "No," I reassured her. "We were having a serious talk, but we were already done by the time you arrived." Following her to the pool, I sat by the steps rather than submerging myself like she proceeded to. "You shouldn¡¯t take the way he looks at you to heart. Sure, I won¡¯t contest that he doesn¡¯t exactly stand your very existence, but at least it¡¯s not personal." "Not personal, huh?" Aquaflora chuckled at the notion. "To be honest, having heard your story and seen what kind of person you are, I think, ironically, the two of you could have gotten along. Or at least far better than you do now. You two have so much in common." "Like what?" Aquaflora asked, clearly skeptical, if not outright offended. "A lot, actually. Other than the obvious fact that you¡¯re both of Argyrian descent¡ªclanless and elven-family-less vagabonds. If I had to name one thing, it would be the fact that you two were once victims of the same theft." Aquaflora¡¯s expression shifted to confusion before realization dawned. "You mean¡­ I see¡­So he was a monarch once too." "Not for long. Only for thirteen short years. He didn¡¯t even get the opportunity to do anything remotely Patriarch-like before his ancestral tree was taken from him." "...He¡¯s the ancestral tree wielder you once mentioned." "Alas, yes," I replied bitterly. "And that¡¯s how ¡°he¡± and I met¡ªas he came to claim what was Goblin¡¯s." Since each of the five affinity sub-affinities was governed by a monarch, rising to monarchhood or achieving greatness was a gamble few elves dared to take. Opting for a quiet life was a safer choice for most, aware that striving for greatness would place them directly in the sights of the existing monarchs. Owning an Ancestral Tree could¡ªand indeed would¡ªlead to its confiscation, while lacking one, if one had significant strength or a particular talent, would force one into service; resistance would have dire repercussions. Beneath its facade of tranquility, Quel¡¯thalas was under the tyrannical rule of its elven monarch. In many ways, the suppression there was more severe than in the lands of Men, making Cleon''s approach seem almost sensible by comparison. ¡°What sub-affinity did he manifest his ancestral tree from?¡± ¡°Blood,¡± I replied. I noticed the shift in her expression and pressed further. ¡°Does that tell you something?¡± She nodded slowly. ¡°He once asked me, back when I¡¯d just become one of his Clan leaders, to focus on increasing my affinity in that sub-affinity, along with half a dozen others, should I ever unlock them. But years later, he told me and the other Clan leaders not to pursue it anymore.¡± A Clan Leader is simply the Argyrian equivalent of what I refer to as an elder. In other words, elves whose strength and experience have earned them a place in a monarch¡¯s entourage. Considering how old and strong she is, it¡¯s not unreasonable to say that Aquaflora didn¡¯t fit that conventional mold, but she earned the title by manifesting an ancestral tree. A title that, upon closer examination, reveals itself to be merely a leash for the monarch to keep you close enough to extract what he needs from you. All current elven monarchs are exceptional individuals who achieved what few dared. Yet, none of them had the talent to single-handedly unlock all the sub-affinities within their main affinity. No one can be that fortunate, and even if someone were, they would not be able to spare that many affinity points to invest. Their only recourse was to either steal an ancestral tree from another or have someone in their family manifest it on their behalf. Those believed to have the potential to manifest the ancestral tree they sought were kept close, nurtured, and given prominent titles like "Clan Leader," as was the case with Aquaflora, in exchange for surrendering her ancestral tree upon manifesting it. ¡°You and Goblin share the same tragedy,¡± I said to Aquaflora, my tone thoughtful. ¡°Though perhaps you see it differently. Unless,¡± I added inquisitively, ¡°that¡¯s why you chose to distance yourself from him?¡± While she had been one of the Argyrian Patriarch''s elders, a role that typically bound her existence to him, she eventually left his side to live elsewhere. Needless to say that this wasn''t just benevolently permitted by the patriarch; it was allowed because she promised to produce a second ancestral tree, one aligned with the Wood sub-affinity, which the patriarch had yet to manifest. In exchange for this ancestral tree, she gained her freedom¡ªalbeit a very limited one. ¡°I¡­I¡¯m,¡± Aquaflora stammered, her voice faltering. ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± I interjected gently. ¡°You don¡¯t have to justify yourself. I just wanted you to know that Goblin doesn¡¯t hate you¡ªnot you personally, at least. Just your patriarch and everything remotely tied to him. After everything he stole from Goblin¡ªhis ancestral tree, his brother, his friends¡ªI can¡¯t even really blame him for that.¡± Aquaflora floated silently in the pool, her expression serious. ¡°And you?¡± she asked. I raised an eyebrow, considering her question. ¡°You¡¯re asking if I hate your patriarch and everything he represents, like Goblin does?¡± I paused, frowning. ¡°What I think of the patriarch is one thing, but I¡¯d like to think I¡¯ve shown you, over our time traveling together, enough to answer that question without words.¡± Her silence lingered, awkward but telling. I sighed, dispelling the tension. ¡°I¡¯ve lived over 200 years. For you elves, with your easily leveled Longevity skills, that might not seem like much. But for a human like me, it¡¯s a lifetime of experiences. Enough to learn that hating so deeply serves no purpose. I''ve hated some people before¡ªSigh, I hated them so much. But looking back, I see how little it mattered in the grand scheme of things. ¡°So, no,¡± I continued. ¡°I don¡¯t hate you or any Argyrian just because of your patriarch. That said, I won¡¯t deny wanting his downfall. But as for the rest of the Argyrian? I genuinely don¡¯t care. As for you,¡± I added with a teasing smile, ¡°I¡¯d even say I love you very much.¡± ¡°You,¡± Aquaflora sputtered, her cheeks turning red even in the misty warmth of the pool. ¡°It¡¯s always like this with you!¡± she exclaimed, splashing water at me in a mock tantrum. I chuckled, the sound light and genuine. ¡°You¡¯re not used to affection, are you?¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± Sobering, I added, ¡°You might think I¡¯m joking, but I¡¯m serious. I care about you. I¡¯ve grown to... I want you to know that.¡± Standing from the steps, I prepared to leave. It was then that her voice called out behind me, stopping me in my tracks. ¡°Arianna.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± I turned to face her. ¡°About what you¡¯re here to do¡­ He¡­ Lee is the centerpiece of your plan, isn¡¯t he? You want the Clan Leaders to bend the knee to him. That¡¯s your goal here right?¡± I smiled faintly. ¡°You¡¯ve figured it out on your own.¡± ¡°I just did, listening to what you told me.¡± We weren¡¯t in Argyrian territory without purpose. Our mission here was critical to the coalition¡¯s goal of taking down the Argyrian patriarch. Like any monarch, elven monarchs rely on their subjects to draw energy¡ªMP, HP, and SP¡ªfrom them, much like batteries. For our coalition, ensuring he couldn¡¯t use that advantage against us was essential. Erasing the capital and its inhabitants would have been the simplest solution, but that option is just far too cruel and wasteful, considering the other alternatives. ¡°He¡¯s going to be a very awful patriarch,¡± Aquaflora said, ¡°to the Argyrian people.¡± ¡°I know,¡± I replied grimly. ¡°But guess what?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t care about them.¡± ¡°You guessed it.¡± ¡°The Clan Leaders won¡¯t easily accept him. They¡¯re already fighting for control of the capital and its denizens. They won¡¯t just bend the knee.¡± ¡°I know,¡± I said, clenching my fists. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re here. If they won¡¯t submit willingly, we¡¯ll make them. There may¡­ no, there will be bloodshed,¡± I admitted, addressing the reluctance in her eyes. ¡°But we can minimize it. For that, I¡¯ll need your help. Your diplomacy, your standing as a Clan Leader¡ªthese can make all the difference. Can I count on you?¡± Aquaflora¡¯s hesitation was palpable. Refusal would only mean more violence, something neither of us wanted. With a deep sigh, she finally said, ¡°I will do my best.¡± I smiled, satisfied. Pointing at her, I added with a playful grin, ¡°And that¡¯s why I love you so much.¡± "Just leave me in peace with that," she said, splashing water toward me again. "Alright," I was about to leave when she paused, turning back. "Say, Aquaflora." "Mh?" "We got here ahead of schedule, meaning we have a few days of rest before we dive into the tedious part of the work. Once we begin, there won''t be time for a break. How about we take advantage of the time we have now to do something fun?" "Something fun? Like what?" "I was thinking¡­ To be honest, I¡¯ve been curious about the place you lived before being forced to move out. Since we started flying over the region, I couldn''t help but wonder about it. How about we go there tomorrow?" "...Sure," Aquaflora responded, feigning indifference, though it was clear to me she was ecstatic about the idea. Having got her confirmation, I left the bathhouse and headed straight to my chambers to change. Once done, I immediately set out to find Licht, whom I conveniently found in a room resembling a conference hall. A large table dominated the center, surrounded by chairs, some of which were already occupied by Goblin, Blondie, Bortz, and Licht himself. From his seat across the table, Licht was staring intently at Goblin, who was in yet another form. This one differed from the one he used in the bath and every other form he''d displayed to Licht so far. Goblin¡¯s fidgeting in his chair only emphasized the novelty of the situation, and Licht¡¯s glare was likely due to the fact it was his first time seeing this particular form. As I approached, I addressed Goblin, who was now in one of his main forms¡ªa young boy in his early teenage years¡ªwith a hint of humor. "What''s the occasion for this appearance this time?" "I was told I wouldn''t have any use for that appearance," Goblin replied, referring to his earlier form. "This original one will do, for now." I smiled, glancing at Licht. "You heard that, friend. You¡¯re finally granted the honor of beholding Goblin in one of his true main forms. So behold." With that, I took my seat at the head of the table. Looking at those gathered, I declared, "Our table is still missing some very important members, but I¡¯m already glad to see us all here. Today, we are closer than ever to our goal. We just need to push through the next steps, and the final line will be upon us. So now, let¡¯s get to the briefing on what¡¯s going to happen." B2. Chapter 31: Lee The next day, in the early afternoon, as we¡¯d agreed, Aquaflora and I flew off toward the northeastern horizon. We were heading to visit her old home. Compared to the Umbryan corner, which was mostly grassland dotted with occasional trees under typically clear skies, the region we flew over was verdant but punctuated by a mountainous landscape. Above it hung a dark gray fog that threatened rain at any moment. With Veilleuse-19, we mostly flew above the clouds to avoid being drenched. But as Aquaflora announced we were nearing our destination, we descended. Sure enough, something soon came into view: nestled in a depression surrounded by elevations was what looked like a settlement, built around a lake formed by the depression itself. ¡°This is it, right?¡± I asked Aquaflora for confirmation. She nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve arrived. This is the village¡­ the one the Mistwood Arbor¡¯s Argyrian refugees were evacuated from.¡± With nowhere else suitable to land a creature as large as Veilleuse¡ªand not wanting to risk damaging the village buildings, even if most were already in ruins¡ªI chose to land Veilleuse-19 in the large natural pool at the village center, freezing the water with ease. After dismounting, I walked to the shore, taking in the sight of what remained of the village. The streets were littered with toppled blocks and collapsed roofs. Monstrous trails ran through the rubble, evidence enough of what had caused the destruction. Walking alongside me, Aquaflora murmured, ¡°With everyone evacuated, I was hoping they¡¯d spare the village somehow, for people to one day return. It seems I was too hopeful.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t say you weren¡¯t,¡± I replied, taking in the devastation. As we moved through the rubble, I noticed Aquaflora stopping occasionally to inspect certain ruins. Though I didn¡¯t ask what she was looking for, her focus made it clear she had a purpose. It wasn¡¯t until we reached what appeared to have been the largest building in the village¡ªnow reduced to a pile of collapsed rubble¡ªthat I broke the silence. As we worked together to lift the debris, I asked, ¡°You have a particular reason to care for this village, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I do,¡± Aquaflora admitted. ¡°This is where Charle and I stayed before I ultimately¡­¡± She paused, then corrected herself. ¡°Charle, or as you¡¯d know him, Alphonse. Do you remember him?¡± ¡°Yes, I remember,¡± I said. ¡°I never forget a name or a face.¡± ¡°I see,¡± she said, her relief evident. ¡°This is where he and I stayed the longest before I moved to the Argyrian capital,¡± she explained, lifting a large block to reveal what looked like the remnants of a cradle. ¡°This used to be such a warm place,¡± she said wistfully. ¡°I can imagine that.¡± She chuckled self-deprecatingly. ¡°So much so that it gave me a very wrong idea of what life would be like in the capital.¡± Without her elaborating, I understood. Goblin¡¯s own testimony had already given me a glimpse of what she meant. There was a stark difference between elven village life and life in an elven capital. Villages like this one, or Mistwood Arbor, were shaped by love and a desire for independence from the monarch¡¯s influence. Capitals, however, were different. If I were to use Goblin¡¯s words, villages and capitals were equally stifling, but in different ways. Elven villages often began as havens for elves seeking freedom from their monarchs. These villages were built by those who, for various reasons such as passionate love, found life in the capitals untenable because it didn''t allow their love to unfold naturally¡ªspecifically, it didn''t allow them to have children of their own choosing. In the capital, children are created and bestowed by the monarch, not born of personal choice. Thus, those whose passion burns strong enough muster the courage to leave the capital to live in small villages like this one. Not surprisingly, children born in these villages may or may not return to the capitals from which their parents came. More often than not, they remain in the village, marrying fellow elves also born there, or, as sometimes happens, marrying other sentient species, most commonly humans. This gives birth to what¡¯s commonly called a "Charlie." Needless to say, children born from such unions were rarely welcome in the hyper-homogeneous societies of the capitals. Aquaflora, with her silver hair and mixed heritage, was a prime example. Even after rising to the high status of Clan Leader, she sought to leave the suffocating environment of the capital for this place. As we cleared more rubble, I noticed small toys and clothing emerging. ¡°What¡¯s this place?¡± I asked.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Picking up an intact toy, Aquaflora replied, ¡°This is what remains of where I raised my children.¡± ¡°Your children, huh?¡± ¡°Yes, my children,¡± she said with an innocent jest. ¡°They may not have been mine by blood, but they were mine nonetheless.¡± She glanced at me. ¡°As are yours.¡± I chuckled. ¡°So, you were some kind of caretaker? A teacher?¡± She nodded. ¡°When I wasn¡¯t trying to harvest affinity points, I was teaching the little ones all they needed to know.¡± ¡°Oh? Like what?¡± I asked, curious. Aquaflora gave me a doubtful look. ¡°You¡¯re going to tease me again.¡± ¡°No, of course not. I¡¯m genuinely curious about what you taught them.¡± Her expression made it clear she didn¡¯t believe me, but with a sigh, she relented. ¡°I mostly taught them about the world outside, how to level up, and what not to do when doing so.¡± There were indeed critical lessons elven children needed to learn. For instance, humans could make mistakes like investing in the wrong attribute, but elves faced unique risks¡ªsuch as investing too heavily in a sub-affinity that might attract the unwanted attention of a patriarch. In a village like this one, so close to potential enemies, those lessons were a matter of survival. Not mocking her as she expected. ¡°I can see you love this village,¡± I began. ¡°So, why did you stay so long in the capital¡ªa hundred and fifty three years¡ªbefore deciding to move back here?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± She hesitated, pondering her answer. ¡°Because most of the time I was there, I thought I was accomplishing something.¡± "What something?" "That I don''t know... but I think I just understood that I wouldn¡¯t be able to achieve it when I surrendered my ancestral tree to him." Listening to her speak, I understood¡ªperhaps even before she did. That understanding brought a small smile to my face, one Aquaflora didn¡¯t miss. "What is it?" "Nothing," I answered. "I just realized something about you that makes me think we might not be so different after all." "What do you mean?" "You wouldn¡¯t understand if I told you. You¡¯ll have to figure it out yourself." "Wha¡ª" Before she could complain, I cut her off. "Tell me," I said, changing the subject as I looked around. "How did the village exodus go? I¡¯ve heard bits and pieces, but I got little from Goblin himself. So, I¡¯m curious. How did it unfold?" Aquaflora seemed reluctant to let go of the previous topic but eventually relented. "How did it go? I don¡¯t know what you expect me to say. It went exactly as anything involving Lee¡ªor Goblin, as you call him¡ªwould." "Smoothly?" "Roughly!" she corrected, her annoyance clear. "He just barged in and literally threatened to destroy the village himself if they didn¡¯t leave immediately. He gave them no time or choice." I glanced around at the ruins of the village. "But did they have either, though?" "Perhaps," she conceded. "But still..." "He did what needed to be done. Sure, there was malice in his actions toward your people for reasons you and I both understand, but the result is that those villagers are now somewhere safe, which renders their feelings over his actions irrelevant." At this, Aquaflora asked, "Is that how you expect him to rule the Argyrian family after this is over? Because you¡¯re not planning to just give them their freedom back, are you?" I smiled. "You¡¯re starting to understand how I work." "I had to," she said, her disappointment evident. "As much as it pains me to admit." I sneered. "You¡¯re right. We¡¯re not going to let go of such a precious resource." Due to its nature, Ancestral Trees as a monarch sigil is unique. It can be stolen, or "obtained," unlike the sigils of other races. For example, no one could wield the sigil of an Emperor, Seraphim, or ArchDuke of Hell except themselves. But for elves, the requirements to wield an ancestral tree are minimal. For someone like Goblin, who once manifested his own ancestral tree but was forced to surrender it, acquiring the Argyrian ancestral tree would be almost seamless. In fact, it would be easier for him to accommodate it since one of the Ancestral Tree comprising that makes up the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s Ancestral Tree was originally his. For his sake, it¡¯s best we seized the Argyrian¡¯s subjects, as they would immediately strengthen Goblin''s if he gets the Patriarch ancestral tree. While he could operate without the current Argyrian family as his subjects, it would be a waste. For an ancestral tree wielder, subjects are akin to stored energy for a mana-storing staff. The sigil is the staff, and the wielder is the wielder of the ancestral tree. The staff functions independently, but not using its full capability would be inefficient. Considering our mission to cripple the Argyrian patriarch by depriving him of his subjects, it only makes sense to take them and put them to use. "Resource," Aquaflora mumbled, bitterness seeping into her tone as her clenched fists betrayed her feelings. "You must admit that it¡¯s a better fate than having the Argyrian seized by one of the elven monarchs in this coalition, isn¡¯t it?" I said matter-of-factly. "I¡¯m not so sure about that," Aquaflora replied. In that moment, I realized she was letting her opinion of Goblin cloud her judgment. There was no way the Argyrian subjects would be better off under the Umbryan patriarch or the Aurian matriarch. Integration into their homogenous populations was impossible. These monarchs had literally manufactured their societies to mirror their ideals, seeing them as the pinnacle of beauty. The idea of integrating a completely different population was inconceivable to them. I felt compelled to point this out but chose to hold my tongue. Glancing at the gray sky above, I asked, "Do you still have something you want to see here?" "No." "Then is it alright if we get moving?" "Yes." B2. Chapter 32: Home The silence between Aquaflora and me stretched on as Veilleuse-19 carried us through the skies. The previous discussion had soured her mood, leaving the flight heavy with unspoken tension. For fifteen minutes, the wyvern''s wings carved through the cold mountain air until, finally, the valley holding her home came into view. As Veilleuse-19 descended, its wings stirred the mountain winds, and the lush valley below unfurled like a dream. Nestled at its heart stood Aquaflora''s stone cottage, a quaint structure surrounded by vibrant wildflowers and framed by distant, majestic peaks. When we landed, Aquaflora immediately jumped off Veilleuse-19 back and dashed ahead, her joy so palpable it seemed her feet barely touched the grass. She paused briefly at the door, her hand hovering over the wooden frame as though reassuring herself that this moment was real. Meanwhile, I lingered by the wyvern, taking in the scenery. The valley sprawled out before me, a patchwork of greenery and colorful blossoms swaying gently in the breeze. The mountains beyond formed a timeless backdrop, their silhouettes stirring a nostalgic ache within me. Though this was nothing like the home I once knew, it brought to mind the weathered warmth of a place I had long since left behind. My gaze returned to the cottage. Approaching, one thing was clear. Nature had begun to reclaim it: vines climbed its stone walls in delicate tendrils, and marigolds crept toward the door as if eager to welcome her back. Before I could dwell further, Aquaflora¡¯s cheerful voice rang out from inside. "Everything is as I left it! Do you want tea?" Her smile was infectious, and I found myself nodding. "Tea? I wouldn¡¯t mind that."
We sat outside the cottage, cups of what she called "tea"¡ªthough it tasted more like an unusual infusion¡ªwarming our hands. Aquaflora perched by the door, basking in the serenity of her surroundings, while I leaned against a post, letting the stillness sink in. "Nice cottage you¡¯ve got here," I said, breaking the silence. She shot me a sharp look, as if accusing me of teasing. "I can see it coming, you know." "See what coming?" "You¡¯re going to mock me again." I chuckled, holding up a hand in mock surrender. "Absolutely not. I was being honest. I swear it." "Mmph," she muttered, clearly unconvinced. "I mean it," I insisted. "It¡¯s a really nice cottage. It reminded me of a place I used to call home." "Home?" Her interest piqued, and she leaned forward slightly. "Yes," I said, the word carrying the weight of old memories. "Years ago, far from here. My family and I lived in a small home¡ªwell, slightly larger than this, but far older and more weathered." I sighed, letting the nostalgia wash over me. Aquaflora frowned, catching onto something in my tone. "With your family? Weren¡¯t you from a noble house that got exiled?" I nodded. "I was. I spent my childhood in a grand castle in the middle of nowhere." But there¡¯s a part of my story only a few people know¡ªthose closest to me¡ªnamely my fellow Dungeon Masters. Her eyes softened as she nodded in understanding. I took a long sip of the tea before changing the subject. "You seem to know a fair bit about me. When did you first hear about me?" I asked. "The first time was when you introduced yourself as Arianna to Charlie and me," she replied. "Ah, back when I was still a nobody," I mused. "I probably didn¡¯t leave much of an impression." "Far from it!" she exclaimed, almost barking the words. "You and the man you were with¡ªVittorio¡ªmade Charle very anxious. He could tell Vittorio was a high-ranking member of the faith, and you... well, he said there was something..." "Something?" "Foul and malevolent about you." I laughed, recalling the incident. "Oh, right. I did hex him to stop his appraisal attempt. That¡¯s mean of him to say, though." "I thought so too, at least until I heard more about you." "When was that?" "Years later," she said. "You¡¯d made a name for yourself by then¡ªknown even in elven lands as the first adventurer to completely exterminate a dungeon." I smiled faintly. Of all my titles, that one felt the most significant, even though it had been overshadowed by others. I owed so much to that feat. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Before me, adventurers, devout adherents of the faith, and mercenaries alike had eradicated spawns, slain guardians, and conquered dungeons. Yet their victories amounted to little more than the inevitable respawning of the said cleared dungeon. In other words, no one had found a way to truly eradicate one. But I changed that. Aquaflora looked at me with a mix of curiosity and admiration. "Mind telling me how you did it?" I chuckled at her boldness. "It¡¯ll take more than pretty eyes to convince me to divulge that secret." The truth was, my success had granted me an almost untouchable status. As the only one capable of permanently dealing with dungeons, neither the Seraphims nor the Emperor could afford to treat me as they naturally would, given the long list of offenses tied to my name. They needed me alive to handle what they themselves could not. It was a precarious freedom, as it came with the burden of the constant surveillance of both the Faith and the Emperor, but I made sure to use that freedom to my advantage. One way I ensured that I would forever be able to use it to my advantage was to never reveal my method. To do so would strip me of the very leverage that kept me alive. "Ehh," she whined, disappointed. I smirked. "What would you even do with that knowledge? No offense, but you don¡¯t seem like the dungeon-delving type." "Why?" she asked, her voice indignant. I paused for a moment, trying to choose my words carefully. "You¡¯re too much of a gentle soul. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I don¡¯t mean that derisively. I think it¡¯s a good quality to be gentle. Sometimes I wish I were as gentle, but unfortunately, that would be incompatible with my raison d¡¯¨ºtre." "Your raison d¡¯¨ºtre?" Aquaflora asked. "What¡¯s that?" "My goals, of sorts." "And what are those, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?" I smiled at her, tilting my head slightly. "What do you think it is?" She pondered for a moment before answering, "I¡¯m tempted to say you¡¯re pursuing strength. Becoming the strongest, perhaps." "And I¡¯d say you¡¯re partly right," I replied, amused. "Pursuing strength is one of my objectives, but it¡¯s just a means to an end. My goal isn¡¯t to become the strongest. I think I¡¯d be fine not being the strongest. I could live with that." I paused, gathering my thoughts before continuing. "I just need to be strong enough to help those dear to me¡ªto be useful, reliable, and supportive. Whether it¡¯s helping them lay their path to their goals or bringing justice when they need it, that¡¯s what matters to me." I didn¡¯t elaborate further. It wasn¡¯t like I could explain the raison d¡¯¨ºtre of Dungeon Master 08. So, for Aquaflora, I was being honest¡ªor as honest as I, Arianna, could be. "I¡¯m kind of selfless, am I not?" "Not when you point it out like that." I laughed softly. "Hehe... I suppose you¡¯re right." Aquaflora remained silent for a moment, her expression contemplative. "By people dear to you, you¡¯re referring to Go¡ªLee, Bortz, Licht, and the girl, right?" I nodded. "There are several more of them scattered across the world," I explained, then glanced at her. "There¡¯s also one I¡¯m staring at." "Who? Me?" Aquaflora asked, pointing at herself skeptically. "Do you see me looking at someone else?" She looked confused for a moment before the realization hit her. Her face flushed red as she buried it in her lap. "You¡¯re teasing me again, aren¡¯t you?" "Teasing you? How am I teasing you with that?" I frowned. "You¡¯re the one who always reacts weirdly to my genuine shows of camaraderie." Peeking at me, she seemed unsure what to say so I added with a sigh, "Here I was thinking that with the time we¡¯ve spent together, we¡¯d developed a bond. To think I¡¯m not even taken seriously when I make my declarations." "No!" she barked before adding, embarrassed, "I was... You¡¯re..." "I am?" "You¡¯re dear to me too, if that¡¯s what you want to hear." "It is, but I¡¯m not satisfied with the way it was voiced," I said, standing and walking in front of her. I extended a hand, which she stared at in confusion. "What do you want me to do with that?" she asked. "I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed by now, but I¡¯m a very tactile person." "So?" "I¡¯d like you to show me your appreciation by taking my hand. Simple task, isn¡¯t it?" She looked hesitant but eventually complied, standing and taking my hand. The moment her eyes met mine, she tried to pull away, but I held on firmly. "What? What are you doing? That should be enough now, right?" she protested. "Let me go." Ignoring her protests, I asked softly, "Now do you trust me?" "I do! Now could you please let go of me?" "Alright, as long as you understand," I said, letting go of her hand as I noticed a gentle drizzle beginning to fall from the gray sky. Watching the raindrops, I suggested, "How about we spend the night here?" Moments passed in silence, the sound of the rain filling the space between us. Finally, Aquaflora''s voice cut through, but instead of answering my question, she responded with one of her own. "We¡¯re friends, right?" "Unless you decide otherwise, yes," I replied matter-of-factly. "You said you¡¯d do anything to help your friends, right?" Not exactly what I said, but close enough, I thought as I nodded. "Then would you help me with something?" she asked, her tone serious but uncertain. "Tell me about the ¡®something¡¯ first." She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "It¡¯s about the Argyrian family." "Oh? What about them?" "I still think your plan to have Lee supplant the Argyrian patriarch is a bad idea. He¡¯d make a terrible patriarch." "Hm," I nodded, acknowledging the truth of her words. "So, what of it?" "What you¡¯re after is the Argyrian patriarch¡¯s ancestral tree to use against Cleon the One and Only. Instead of having Lee wield that ancestral tree and rule the Argyrian family, let me do it for you." Her resolve seemed to falter as she made her request, but I asked before her courage failed entirely, "Why would I give it to you instead of Goblin, who you and I know would do his best to serve me?" She hesitated, considering her words before answering. ¡°I can¡¯t convince you that I¡¯d be better than him. The only thing I¡¯m confident I¡¯d do better is lead the Argyrian family. But, as you said, that¡¯s irrelevant to you.¡± I nodded, confirming her assessment. ¡°What I can say is that I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to ensure Lee doesn¡¯t become the Argyrian patriarch¡ªI know he¡¯d be terrible at it. I¡¯ll do anything to prove I¡¯m more useful than him,¡± she said, her waning conviction rekindling. I studied her in silence for a moment, then allowed a faint smile to surface. ¡°Anything, you said?¡± B2. Chapter 33: Honey After discussing the terms of the agreements we came to the other night, we decided to spend a couple of additional days in Aquaflora''s little cottage in the middle of nowhere. She missed the place a lot, but I could easily tell it was an attempt to delay what awaited her upon our return to the Argyrian capital. I didn¡¯t mind, as long as it didn¡¯t go on for too long. I made it my goal to ensure she was in the right mindset for what was coming. Right now we were on Veilleuse-19¡¯s back, flying leisurely toward the Argyrian capital. I turned to her for a last-minute confirmation and asked, "Are you still sure you want this?" "You¡¯ve asked me that question over a dozen times in the past couple of days already," Aquaflora replied. "I have, because I want you to know there¡¯s still a way out before the cogs get moving," I explained, issuing a final warning. "Once the machine gets moving, there¡¯s no undoing what¡¯s going to happen." "...I know." "Then you¡¯re sure you want to take over this role?" "Me not taking it means him taking it," Aquaflora said resolutely. "I can¡¯t allow that to happen." I chuckled. "I know how it looks, but Goblin becoming the Argyrian Patriarch wouldn¡¯t be the end of the world for the Argyrian population." "You and I both know that¡¯s not true. Even if it wouldn¡¯t be, I know for a fact that he¡¯d leave the Argyrian capital worse off than it was under the Patriarch." Woah. She really had a terrible opinion of my little Goblin. I couldn¡¯t deny there was truth in her words, but I would have appreciated it if she put up a facade instead of slandering him outright. He might be evil incarnate, but he was still my favorite Dungeon Master¡ªnot that I liked the others any less. I suppose I could only let it go for now, I concluded, "this was the last time I¡¯m asking you." Then, urging Veilleuse-19 forward through the verdant mountains, we soon flew over a destroyed village. Less than half an hour later, the giant white whale hovering above the Argyrian capital came into view. From a distance, the capital looked normal, but as we approached, it became clear something had changed. Aquaflora¡¯s expression turned grave. "What happened?!" From the northeastern corner of the city, a trail of destruction stretched out, engulfing what appeared to be 15% of the capital¡ªlike a breach carved through a fortress. It didn¡¯t look new, though. Maybe it had happened a day or two ago. Urging Veilleuse-19 onward, we soon flew alongside the flying whale. On its back, I could see Goblin standing guard. As we hovered above the city, Aquaflora summoned her broom and announced, "I¡¯ll go see what happened. Are you coming with me?" I shook my head. "I¡¯ll go check on Goblin and the others to learn what happened." "I see..." she said, clearly disappointed but wasting no time. As she prepared to take off, I called out, "Aquaflora." "Mh?" "We..." I hesitated, taking a breath before deciding. "Never mind. Forget about it. Go and return to the fortress as soon as you can." She seemed curious about what I was going to say, but after glancing at the destroyed area below, she put her curiosity aside and nodded. Then, riding her broom, she flew at full speed toward the northeastern corner of the capital. As Aquaflora left, I had Veilleuse-19 land on the fortress. Goblin, standing on the deck with his bonded creatures, greeted me. "You¡¯re sure you want to let her fly off like that down there?" "She insisted," I replied, approaching Goblin and embracing him. Given his current form, hugging him felt no different than hugging a short teen, which, in appearance and relative to his age as an elf, he definitely was. "Welcome back, Ma¡¯am." "Thanks. Where¡¯s everyone?" "They¡¯re in the fortress."If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "You¡¯re on guard duty?" I asked, glancing at the summoned creatures. "Yep. I¡¯ve been on guard duty since the attack. It¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re back¡ªI was starting to get tired of this." I chuckled, throwing an arm over his shoulder as we made our way to the inner sanctum of the fortress. "Alright, let¡¯s go join the others, then." "Yeah. Also, Licht has been itching to talk to you." "Talk to me? Am I allowed to assume I won my bet?" "You have," Goblin sighed. *** It had been a couple of hours since I arrived at the Argyrian capital, and I now found myself in a room that looked much like a conference hall inside a fortress. Blondie and Bortz were seated to my right, while Goblin and Licht sat across from them, with Licht intently watching the pair. Blondie and Bortz, back to their usual antics, seemed wrapped up in their own little world¡ªcuddling, or so it appeared. Technically, they weren''t exactly cuddling; it was more like Bortz was applying some under-eye makeup that I had picked up in the Umbryan capital as a gift for her. To an innocent eye, it might have looked quite harmless, but the way he leaned into her, their legs entwined, suggested something more. Her eyes were tightly shut, and the noticeable height difference between them rendered the scene almost comically intimate¡ªat least to anyone less naive than our Verdenkind friend. ¡°You¡¯re staring too much, buddy,¡± Goblin remarked, elbowing Licht playfully. ¡°I¡­ I wasn¡¯t¡­¡± Licht stammered, his face flushing red. ¡°Who do you think you¡¯re fooling?¡± Goblin teased, clearly unwilling to let the moment slide. ¡°Makes you wanna cuddle, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Licht was speechless, his eyes darting between Blondie and Bortz, who, sickering, continued their applying the under-eye makeup as though nothing was happening. He turned toward me, clearly hoping I¡¯d intervene, but being in a good mood, I simply looked away, feigning ignorance. ¡°There¡¯s no shame in that, buddy,¡± Goblin said, patting Licht¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I can understand it. In fact...¡± With a mischievous grin, Goblin activated his skill, changing his form. ¡°In fact, I understand it better than anyone. Come here for your well-deserved cuddle.¡± Goblin reached toward Licht, who recoiled instantly. ¡°What the hell? Get away from me!¡± Licht barked, leaping from his chair. ¡°You¡¯re giving me the creeps!¡± ¡°Come on, what¡¯s that reaction¡­ Honey?¡± Goblin replied, emphasizing the last word with a wicked smirk before glancing at me. ¡°Ma¡¯am, I think we¡¯ve found a nickname for our dear Licht.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but join in. ¡°It seems we have, my dear Goblin.¡± ¡°What?¡± Licht frowned, clearly wary. ¡°Today marks your baptism,¡± Goblin declared solemnly. ¡°From here on out, for this brotherhood, you shall be known as ¡®Honey.¡¯¡± ¡°What? Do I not get a say in this?¡± Licht protested. ¡°No, you don¡¯t,¡± Goblin answered matter-of-factly. ¡°Everyone here has been blessed with a nickname¡ªa second name, in fact, and have accepted it as the honor it is.¡± There was an exception here: Me who was never blessed with a nickname, but still he was right, everyone got a nickname pretty much became a name for them. At Goblin¡¯s words, Blondie, Bortz, and I nodded solemnly, leaving Licht no choice but to sigh in defeat. It was around then that the door to the room burst open, revealing Aquaflora standing in the doorway. Her expression was wild, and the raging energy she exuded filled the room as she surveyed us one by one. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re finally here,¡± I said, leaning back in my chair. ¡°Yes, I am,¡± she replied, stepping into the room with a sour demeanor. ¡°And I can see that no one here is injured.¡± ¡°By the grace of the truly divine,¡± I answered with a faint smile, ¡°no one was harmed in that sudden monster attack that no one could have foreseen.¡± ¡°That¡¯s very fortunate¡­ and surprising,¡± Aquaflora said as she approached me. Then, with a pointed look, she added, ¡°As surprising as the fact in the attack, several clan leaders and their closest allies met gruesome deaths.¡± ¡°Oh, that is surprising indeed,¡± I replied nonchalantly. ¡°Don¡¯t take me for a fool!¡± Aquaflora barked, slamming her hands on the table. The force of her outburst made the entire table shake. ¡°It was you, wasn¡¯t it?!¡± I barely reacted, meeting her glare with calm indifference. My eyes flicked toward Bortz, Blondie, Goblin, and Licht, who had all adopted stern expressions. Well, in Goblin¡¯s case, he resembled a dog straining against its leash, eager for action. Aquaflora¡¯s eyes followed my gaze, and perhaps realizing the awkward position she put herself into or feeling chastened by their almost unblinking stares, her voice softened. ¡°It was you who orchestrated their deaths, wasn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°And what makes you think I¡¯m behind this?¡± I asked, arching an eyebrow. ¡°Arianna, just admit it,¡± she pressed. ¡°I heard the rumors. I didn¡¯t believe them at first, but then the timing¡­ it all makes sense. You so easily agreed to waste time there.¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t that just be a terrible coincidence?¡± I countered, shrugging. ¡°A coincidence?¡± she scoffed. ¡°That a monster attack happened just as we were away? One that conveniently eliminated all who stood in the way of your elaborate plans for conquering the Argyrian capital? Excuse me, but no matter how gullible you think I am, I¡¯m not buying it.¡± I shrugged again, this time more deliberately. Aquaflora¡¯s response was to slam into my chair, ignoring the others as she locked eyes with me. ¡°Arianna,¡± she said, her voice carrying an unspoken warning. Although it didn¡¯t intimidate me, I chose to take it seriously, for I¡¯d noticed something in her blue eyes¡ªa light I¡¯d never seen before. Raising my hands in mock surrender, I conceded. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s discuss this civilly. Take a seat; you¡¯re going to need it.¡± B2. Chapter 34: Interlude (Kinda) Licht¡¯s thoughts drifted: Something¡¯s off, but I can¡¯t quite put my finger on what. It was nighttime in Quel¡¯thalas¡ªthe elven homeland¡ªwhere no moon watched over the land. Only a dark-blue sky full of stars stretched above. Under normal circumstances, one might think that these stars, shining so vividly, would steal the scene. But tonight, the true spectacle lay below, in the Argyrian capital. Like every great city, the capital was dotted with countless points of light, each flame or lantern granting it a gentle, pulsing glow. On an ordinary night, it would have looked like a carpet of scattered gems. But not this time. Tonight, lights were shifting toward the southern corner of the city, converging in frenzied masses. The sound and sight of them moving was enough to grab one¡¯s full attention, and yet what truly captured Licht¡¯s attention was further ahead, further north: at the city¡¯s edge, a riot of color was erupting¡ªmagical spells and attacks unleashed on gigantic beasts that had broken through the capital¡¯s nonexistent defenses. Unlike the Umbryan capital, the Argyrian capital had no ancestral magic to act as a protective barrier, so when monsters arrived, they just walked right into the urban corner of the domain. Though fewer in number than the monsters Licht had faced in the Umbryan capital, these creatures were no less large and savage. Among them, he could spot a few Primes¡ªthe strongest versions of their kind. Worse still, deep in the city, a massive white serpent-like creature raged. Licht knew it from descriptions: it was the same beast Arianna had fought in the Umbryan capital. It lashed out with gravity-based attacks, flickering in and out, changing its size to strike again and again, leaving the northeastern quarter of the city in ruin. Watching this destruction unfold from the deck of the flying fortress, Licht could not help but notice the man standing beside him, observing the chaos with unfiltered glee. It would have been a stretch to call him a man¡ªhe looked more like a boy. Especially with how madly he was cheering at the scene below. ¡°Wooooooo! Let¡¯s goooooooo!!¡± he hollered, clearly rooting for the monsters, not the Argyrans desperately defending their home. ¡°Goblin, you¡¯re enjoying this too much,¡± came a more composed voice. It belonged to Dungeon Master 13, commonly called Bortz. Licht found the name fitting, given the black battlesuit he wore. Upon hearing ¡°battlesuit,¡± one might picture heavy armor, but they¡¯d be wrong. What he actually wore was a thin, form-fitting material that showed off his impressive build. As always the ethereal chains bound to him glowed like embers, shifting restlessly, making him look even more imposing. ¡°I am,¡± Goblin admitted, but then caught the look Bortz gave him. ¡°Too much?¡± he asked. ¡°Too much,¡± Bortz and the girl known as Blondie nodded in unison. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll dial it down,¡± Goblin agreed. ¡°So long as you do,¡± Bortz replied, ¡°it¡¯ll be a relief for all of us.¡± For a moment, Goblin seemed about to accept the reprimand without protest. Then he stopped and asked, ¡°Wait, why are we talking like I¡¯m some kind of big liability?¡± ¡°Because you are,¡± Bortz said calmly. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about your total crash out against the Argyrian envoys.¡± ¡°That was¡­ You know what?¡± Goblin huffed. ¡°I did great, and I don¡¯t need to justify myself to someone who literally has insanity as their main attribute.¡± Bortz sighed. ¡°You know what? Whatever. Just don¡¯t mess this up.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got nothing to worry about, brother,¡± Goblin replied smoothly. To prove his readiness, he shifted form, becoming female and sprouting a pair of large wings. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡± Under different circumstances, Licht might have been surprised. But Arianna had briefed him on how Goblin¡¯s skills worked. Through [Assimilation], Goblin could absorb monsters and later manifest their traits. The effectiveness of these transformations depended on factors like skill level and the wielder¡¯s constitution. [Ability Assimilation] further let Goblin adjust his own body to circumvent restrictions¡ªsuch as the reduced effectiveness of female monster traits on a male wielder. Goblin¡¯s transitions allowed him to wield these traits far more efficiently than a rigid form would. After all, Assimilation was a skill common among creatures with flexible natures, like hermaphroditic beings such as broodlords or the common fungal monstrosities, or genderless beings like most angelic beings. Bortz looked like he had more to say but merely nodded. ¡°Ma¡¯am left this task to us. Let¡¯s handle it as she expects,¡± he reminded them. ¡°Remember, we¡¯re after the clan leaders and only the clan leaders. You can take out anyone who gets in your way, but don¡¯t go out of your way to slaughter insignificant Lunor elves you stumble upon.¡± The warning was clearly aimed at Goblin, who groaned in annoyance. ¡°Drop it. I get it already. I¡¯ll behave.¡±
Later, Licht stood over the severed head of what he was positive to be an Clan leader of the Argyrian. The execution had been swift¡ªLicht had taken advantage of the elf¡¯s distraction as he fought the invading monsters to land a swift finishing blow. Elves were MP-centric beings, so they were vulnerable to all sorts of close-quarters physical attacks, and that happened to be Licht¡¯s field of expertise. A single strike from behind¡ªthat¡¯s all it took.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. There was nothing honorable about the deed, not that Licht cared much for honor. After all, while the persona he had chosen to embody¡ªan upstanding adventurer¡ªrequired him to display heroic behavior, he wouldn¡¯t hesitate to do the opposite if it benefited him or his fellow Dungeon Masters. But here¡¯s the thing: he hadn¡¯t needed to take on this mission at all. Arianna had given him a choice¡ªget involved or simply walk away and let others handle it. He could have avoided this entire predicament. Yet, at that crucial moment, despite the abruptness and questionable nature of her request, he¡¯d chosen to stay. Something deep within him refused to back down. Now, standing there, he regretted that decision, worried that the system might grant him the ¡°Elf Slayer¡± title. Such a stigma would surely tarnish the image he¡¯d worked so hard to cultivate. While ¡°Kin Slayer¡± was easily the most reviled title in the eyes of the guild, adventurers who earned it could at least claim they had been fighting bandits, a justification that would undoubtedly garner some sympathy. After all, not only does everyone hate bandits, but bandit-hunting had been a sanctioned category of adventuring work for more than a century and a half thanks to the intervention of a certain adventurer queen. But he couldn¡¯t use that excuse¡ªnot convincingly, at least. Who would believe he¡¯d stumbled upon a group of elven bandits? With a heavy sigh, ¡°I¡¯ve chosen this,¡± Licht muttered under his breath. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope I don¡¯t end up with that title.¡± With renewed resolution, Licht continued his grim task. He targeted clan leaders specifically, or ¡°Elders,¡± as Arianna called them, lurking as they were dealing with a monster before striking them down mercilessly once they lowered their guards. The others were less subtle. Blondie soared openly overhead, shielded by magic, smiting Elders and monsters alike with light, wind and lightning. Bortz engaged them head-on with brutal, bestial strikes that left no recognizable remains. Goblin was the least discreet of all¡ªwhen Licht finished off his third Elder and the Elder¡¯s guards, he spotted Goblin drenched in blood, laughing maniacally with a voice that seemed to blend both his male and female forms at once as he literally devoured one of the Elders. While Licht watched with a mix of unease and fascination, he suddenly felt a powerful surge of energy ripple through the air. Recognizing its significance, he climbed higher for a better view. In the distance, he saw the white serpent that had been rampaging now beginning to retreat, much as it had in the Umbryan capital. At that moment, Licht was struck by a realization¡ªa solution to the nagging feeling that had been haunting him, an answer to a question he hadn''t even realized he''d been asking himself. He turned to confront Goblin, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw an elf levitating into view. The elf shouted something at Licht, something unintelligible¡ªeither his command of the Argyrian dialect was too limited, or his grasp of elven in general was too poor. Throughout their journey, he had relied entirely on Arianna to translate for him. But Licht understood from the elf''s aggressive stance, aiming his staff at him, that he was recognized as an enemy. The magic circle was already forming when Licht noticed her; dodging the attack was his only recourse. Sidestepping a dozen meters to his left in a flash, Licht watched as the spot where he had just been standing was obliterated. As the elf readjusted her staff for a second strike, and before Licht could counter, a swift strike from Blondie¡ªsoaring nearby¡ªstruck the elf from the sky. Looking up at her, Licht nodded in appreciation, and Blondie, somehow meeting his gaze despite her condition and visor, nodded back before returning to the fray. ¡°You¡¯re distracted, my friend,¡± Goblin commented, landing near Licht, having finished devouring the poor Elder. ¡°I was,¡± Licht said, a note of accusation in his voice, ¡°and it¡¯s because I just realized something.¡± ¡°Oh? What might that be?¡± Goblin asked casually. Licht pointed toward the breach the monsters had made in the capital''s nonexistent walls. "I''ve always been impressed by Arianna''s flawless predictions. Every time she sends us off, it seems as if fate itself guides the monster stampedes in our favor¡ªfirst in the Umbryan capital, then the Aurian capital, and now here. I used to think these were coincidences, in the sense that the Argyrian Patriarch''s actions and the stampede movements were unpredictable, the decisions of a maddened soul. But now I see clearly¡ªit''s no coincidence at all. It never was. She knows exactly where the stampedes will go, and she''s been guiding us precisely because of that knowledge." Smiling knowingly, Goblin asked, ¡°And how do you think she managed that?¡± Licht reconsidered his previous assumptions. "At first, I suspected Dungeon Master 09, but now I realize it can''t just be that," he mused. He leveled a finger accusatorily at Goblin. "It¡¯s right here in Quel¡¯thalas, isn¡¯t it? The authority that Dungeon Master 13 claimed to have restored to safety in Dungeon Master 00¡¯s hands¡ª[Authority Gathering]." Goblin chuckled. ¡°I made a bet with her about how long it would take you to figure that out. Seems I¡¯m going to owe her a favor.¡± ¡°When¡ª¡± Licht began, about to inquire about the timing of the authority''s transfer to Dungeon Master 09, only to almost immediately realize the answer. Now that he knew the authority was here in Quel¡¯thalas, the timing of its return was obvious. It had been brought back when Dungeon Master 13 and Dungeon Master 09 had left ahead of him and Arianna, instead of traveling with them as initially planned. As he pondered further, it also explained why Dungeon Master 00 had hurried them out the door so quickly when Dungeon Master 02 and he had just arrived in his domain. Dungeon Master 00 was in on the coup, there is just no way he wasn¡¯t involved. ¡°Well,¡± said Goblin with a smile of relief, ¡°it looks like I won¡¯t have to convince you that we indeed brought the authority back to Dungeon Master 00 with the intent of securing it safely, as Bortz reported to Dungeon Master 07. But upon his return to the Voidborne Catacombs, let¡¯s just say the plans changed a bit, if you can call it that.¡± It was far more than a ¡°bit¡± of a change in plan, Licht realized. The entire premise had been scrapped and replaced without his notice. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you guys at least¡ª¡± ¡°Tell you?¡± Goblin cut in. ¡°I don¡¯t know, buddy. That was her idea. She had her reasons, which she told me, but I¡¯m a terrible person for you to hear them from, so I won¡¯t say anything. What I can tell you is that so far, her plan has been proceeding smoothly.¡± ¡°That mig¡ª¡± ¡°I understand you were raised with different values,¡± Goblin said, ¡°but I was raised to care about results. And right now, those results are pretty great, don¡¯t you agree?¡± Goblin grinned widely, surveying the chaos around them. He then patted Licht on the lower back and suggested, ¡°Let¡¯s put that matter aside for now. The monsters are being slowly repelled. Let''s kill as many of these bastards as we can before we make a retreat to the fortress.¡± B2. Chapter 35: Elven Queen Aquaflora They needed to go. I first received the news about what had happened in Quel''thalas from Dungeon Master 10. It was then that I devised a plan of action. To be fair, this plan wasn¡¯t entirely spontaneous; it was an amalgamation of strategies I¡¯d been brewing for some time. After thinking it through, I decided it was best to keep the audience limited¡ªnot because I didn¡¯t trust my fellow Dungeon Masters, but because I believed some of them were less adventurous than I was. As adventurous as I was, I understood there were lines that should not be crossed. That¡¯s why I left the final decision¡ªwhether to proceed with my bold plan or adopt something less ambitious¡ªto Dungeon Master 00. Deep down, I knew I sought his endorsement for my plan, and he gave it. While I¡¯d like to think it was because my plan was reason or at worse due the bond we¡¯d formed over years spent together, I knew better. That realization made me feel worse about myself than I cared to admit. As Dungeon Cores, we were stripped of emotions and sensations¡ªonly greed endured. Without a doubt, his approval stemmed from the gains I promised my ambitious plan would deliver. I share a history, albeit brief and strained, with the Argyrian Patriarch. About a century and a half ago, just a few years after Goblin invested the required points into the Blood Elemental Subaffinity, he manifested an Ancestral Tree. Despite our efforts to remain discreet, the Argyrion Patriarch somehow learned of its existence. We were testing the limits of this sigil in a region bordering the Aurian family''s territory when he descended upon us. My pride screamed at me to protect the tree and not surrender it, but reason dictated otherwise. Ultimately, I handed it over in exchange for us to be allowed to walk away. It was a humiliation neither Goblin nor I would ever forget, and it earned the Argyrian Patriarch a spot on my personal list of those I vowed to see dead¡ªalongside Cleon, and the Seraphims. For the past 150 years, I have been plotting ways to reclaim what was Goblin''s, which naturally involved taking him down. Yet, I had never crafted a relatively "foolproof" plan¡ªuntil recently. When I learned, through the freshly slain Dungeon Master 10, that the Argyrion Patriarch had once again interfered with us¡ªthis time taking far more than just an Ancestral Tree¡ªI understood that it was no longer a time for mere plotting but for decisive action. The plan I devised drew heavily from previous schemes that had never come to fruition. To confront the Argyrion Patriarch and emerge victorious, I needed to level the playing field. This meant either becoming a monarch like him or crippling him to deny access to his monarch advantages¡ªan obstacle I saw as the greatest challenge to overcome. While I wished the first option could become a reality, I¡¯ve come to accept that it won¡¯t. Thus, I was left with the latter choice: crippling the Argyrion Patriarch. How do I achieve that? Simple really. As a monarch, his subjects were his lifeblood, his endless source of energy. Even if I managed to vastly overpower him, a fight without cutting him off from his reserves would be akin to battling a creature with limitless self-healing. The only viable strategy was to sever his connection to his subjects. Several plans came to mind. One, which would have undoubtedly pleased Goblin, was to lure the Argyrion Patriarch away from his domain and lay waste to his capital. However, such an endeavor required critical components: a compelling lure to draw him far enough away to delay his response, sufficient firepower to dismantle the barriers he would surely leave behind, and the strength to annihilate his subjects. While the last element seemed straightforward to secure, the first two would have posed significant challenges¡ªif circumstances had been different. Fortunately, with what happened in Quel''thalas, I didn¡¯t need a lure. He was already away from his capital, and in his maddened state, he had left it entirely unprotected. This gave us the perfect opportunity to cripple the monarch by severing him from his subjects. This revelation made things easier for us. Yet, as I considered the situation in Quel''thalas, I rapidly realized there was an even smarter approach to dealing with the Argyrian Patriarch¡ªone that didn¡¯t involve the extermination of the Argyrian family. Eliminating them would be a waste of resources when the entire Argyrian population could be put to better use. But for that to work, I needed one simple thing: Bent knees. *** "Was Lee ever a choice to you?" she asked. Sitting on what was most likely one of the Argyrian Patriarch personal sofas, I took a bite of a berry from a nearby plate. "You were saying?" I asked Aquaflora, who was seated across from me. "I was thinking about everything you¡¯ve done, and there¡¯s something I¡¯ve only just realized. Was it ever within your plan to establish Lee as the patriarch of the Argyrian family?" "Hmm." I mused, taking another bite from the plate of fruits. "What makes you think that wasn¡¯t the case?" "Your insistence that I tag along, despite being a mere nobody to you. There was also the the fact that you forced to level up in these woods, and last but not least, the fact that you¡¯ve constantly driven home how much of a terrible patriarch Lee would make¡ª" "¡ªleading you to ultimately suggest taking over the role of monarch yourself. Did I get that right?" I interrupted. She nodded. "You do realize that you¡¯re basically accusing me of grooming and manipulation, don¡¯t you?" I said calmly, plucking another fruit from the plate. "Well, I think you know me well enough to understand that I¡¯d be capable of that. But no, you weren¡¯t just a pawn for me to move around. Well, actually," I corrected with a slight chuckle, "I¡¯d be lying if I said you weren¡¯t. We all are, in some sense. But you, specifically, were a piece that got involved midway through the game." A glance at her revealed that she wasn¡¯t satisfied with my vague analogy, so I clarified. "No, I didn¡¯t plan on involving you in all of this. I only needed you for one thing: to be our voice to the Umbryan Patriarch." *I also needed you as bait for Alexander, but that truth is best left untold. *If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Chuckling at the irony, I added, "You know, the laughable part is that I had no plan to involve you beyond that point. Guess what made me change my mind?" "When I told you I was once a monarch," she answered quickly. Grimacing, I nodded. "But let¡¯s set the record straight¡ªI absolutely planned everything from that moment on." "So you¡¯re not even going to deny it?" Aquaflora asked. "Why would I?" I replied unapologetically. Aquaflora sighed. "And what would you have done if I hadn¡¯t proposed taking over his role myself?" "I would have suggested it to you." "And if I had refused?" From what I¡¯d seen of her, refusal was never a real possibility. She only needed a little nudge to make the suggestion herself. "Well, hypothetically, if you¡¯d refused, we would have gone through with our initial plan: subjugating the Argyrian family by full force." "Isn¡¯t that what you already did that night?" "No, trust me¡ªthat was nothing compared to what I had in mind." My words made her shudder, so with a smile that tried its best to be reassuring, I added, "Don¡¯t worry. That was only a plan I was confident we wouldn¡¯t need to use. To be frank, I didn¡¯t want to resort to it¡ªit would have been needlessly bloody--for what reason? Because Goblin doesn¡¯t have what it takes to keep a proper leash on the Argyrian family. I¡¯m truly glad we didn¡¯t come to that." "Are you trying to make me feel like this was the better outcome?" "Do you think it isn¡¯t?" Faced with the question, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to answer. Instead, she mused aloud, "...So, he can¡¯t manifest an Ancestral Tree?" "Lee? Well, yes. Specifically, he wouldn¡¯t be able to manifest one of the elemental affinity." Manifesting an Ancestral Tree required two things: first, investing 90 affinity points into one subaffinity, and second, ensuring that no Ancestral Tree had already been manifested from that subaffinity. Once a sigil was manifested, the subaffinity became "locked". In Goblin¡¯s case, he had manifested a tree from an elemental subaffinity, which the Argyrian Patriarch had stolen. Though he had points in other subaffinities, none could manifest an ancestral tree from an elemental subffinity. Even if they could, he likely wouldn¡¯t risk it after what happened with the last one. "...So I really was the only viable alternative," Aquaflora murmured, her blue eyes alight with a unique and stubborn determination. I chuckled. "Trying to use that against us? Not a bright idea¡ªand it¡¯s certainly not something a friend would do." "A friend..." Aquaflora echoed, staring at me with a complicated expression. It was then that Blondie entered through the curtained doorway, announcing, "Everything is ready, Ma¡¯am, Miss Aquaflora." "Thanks," I said to Blondie before turning to Aquaflora. "You heard that?" She nodded bitterly. Standing before her, I looked down at the crown she held. "Elven monarchs don¡¯t typically wear crowns, but since you¡¯re technically not a monarch yet, you¡¯re going to need this," I said, showing her the crown. It was a silver crown gleaming with a cool, polished luster, its surface intricately wrought into elegant filigree. Small aquamarine gems were embedded evenly along its circumference, each framed by delicate scrollwork. At the center, a large diamond stood out, its subtle brilliance blending into the silvery sheen of the crown. "I thought about engraving your family emblem onto it, but I wanted your opinion first. What do you think?" "I think my family wouldn¡¯t have wanted to be involved in all of this." "You¡¯re sure?" I mused, pausing before adding, "Well, it¡¯s a good thing I didn¡¯t, then." I placed the crown on Aquaflora¡¯s head, straightened it, then gestured toward the entrance Blondie had come through. "Now then, shall we?" Aquaflora sighed but obliged, striding toward Blondie. I followed close behind as she moved past her, stepping through the doorway Blondie had entered. Beyond it lay a balcony overlooking a crowded plaza. The circular expanse was packed with a restless crowd, kept at bay by a perimeter of "guards." In the center of the clearing, six elves bound by ethereal chains knelt, their bloodied and grime-streaked clothes clinging to them. Their heads were bowed¡ªnot in submission, but in defiance. Behind them stood an adult Goblin, Licht, and Bortz, all ready and waiting. I glanced at Goblin, who tilted his head up toward me, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I returned the smile before shifting my gaze to Aquaflora. She gripped the railing, her knuckles white, and I could feel the hesitation radiating from her. "I think they¡¯re waiting for you," I said softly, nodding toward the silent, watching audience. Aquaflora pressed her lips into a thin line and gave the faintest nod, accompanied by a low, "I know." She took a deep breath before launching into her address. "Dear brethren, brothers and sisters, your patriarch¡ªthe monarch of the Argyrian elves¡ªis dead. Some of you may disagree with this statement, claiming that he lives. But if that were true, where is he? Neither he nor his Ancestral Tree¡ªthe symbol of his might and permanence¡ªwas there to protect you from the tragedy that befell our capital." She paused, scanning the crowd, before continuing. "I will say this as I see it: your patriarch is dead. Many of the wisest clan leaders have realized this, but instead of seeking solutions, they¡¯ve chosen greed. Rather than unify us, they have battled for the throne your patriarch left vacant. I couldn¡¯t stand by and watch as our capital and its people withered under their self-absorption. For I, Aquaflora of the Clan Suiren, am also part of this family. Its blood runs through my veins." "As a clan leader myself, one who witnessed the dreams our patriarch had for his people, I could not stand by and watch as these clan leaders turned their backs on his vision¡ªhis established order." She paused, gripping the railing tighter. "Order that I intend to preserve through the provisional title of Elven Queen. By this title, I have ordered the capture of those who sought to destroy the last vestiges of the patriarch¡¯s legacy: our cohesion." Her voice faltered momentarily as she locked eyes with the bound elves. Goblin, with a large grin, approached one of them, drawing a dagger. He only needed a word from Aquaflora to act. Her gaze darted back to me, hesitation clear in her eyes. In that moment, I leaned in and said quietly, "They must go. Spare them, and they¡¯ll see mercy you can¡¯t enforce without my people¡¯s strength. Show them mercy, and they¡¯ll walk away from the cohesion we need. When that happens, it won¡¯t just be seven heads that fall, but all the others they lead away from your leadership." Aquaflora bit her lip, pity evident in her expression as she glanced between the bound elves and Goblin, who frowned at her delay. Taking another deep breath, she straightened, resolve filling her as she spoke again. "Clan Leader of Clan Ameya, Clan Leader of Clan Honoka, Clan Leader of Clan Anora, Clan Leader Kohana, and the surrogate leaders of Clans Nahida and Minori¡ªfor your crimes in conspiring to bend the knee to the patriarch of the Umbryan family and the matriarch of the Aurian family¡ªI sentence you to death. May your deaths serve as a message to those who dream of fracturing our unity." Without needing further instruction, Goblin reached for the elf furthest to the left, lifted their head, and, with a merciless yet efficient slit, ended their life. His indifference to their pleas was chilling, but the act itself was quick¡ªmerciful, in its own way. The crowd erupted in a wave of unease, but Licht, Bortz, and the guards¡ªcomprised mostly of Goblin¡¯s bonded creatures¡ªswiftly subdued any dissent. Goblin, swift and deliberate with each stroke of the D?rmalkrin¡¯s Blade, ensured that every act sent a clear message. By the time he finished, drenched in red, the silver of his blade completely obscured, he looked up to me, then to Aquaflora. White teeth exposed amist red, he opened his arms wide in reverence before kneeling. Internally, I chuckled as I thought, "Well done, Goblin. Very well fucking done." If there had been any hesitation in Aquaflora before, it was gone now. As terrible as the situation was, she must have realized it was better than leaving a maniac like Goblin in charge. This execution was not just a message to the sixteen Argyrian clans; it was a message to Aquaflora herself¡ªone she seemed to understand as she continued. "Brethren, beyond unity, there is no other path for us to tread except annihilation. Walk with me through these terrible days, and I vow to lead you to a better tomorrow¡ªa tomorrow I make the sacred oath to deliver." B2. Chapter 36: Pink and White ¡°You¡¯ve got it wrong, Honey. I¡¯m not racist.¡± Licht raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with skepticism. ¡°If you¡¯re not racist, what are you then?¡± Goblin sighed, leaning back in his seat. ¡°Do you even know what being racist means? It¡¯s when you hate someone for their physical characteristics¡ªlike long ears, silver hair, or Asian features. Look at me, I have all those features myself. I don¡¯t hate Argyrian elves for that. I hate them because they¡¯re related to an inbred motherfucker I despise.¡± Licht and Bortz exchanged a glance and shook their heads in defeat. ¡°Dude...¡± Bortz, who had been quietly listening, chimed in, ¡°A hater.¡± ¡°Yes, Bortz. A hater... I¡¯m a hater,¡± Goblin acclaimed. ¡°I¡¯m not racist. I don¡¯t hate anybody because of the way they look¡ªthat¡¯s unfair and goes against everything I stand by. I hate them because they¡¯re related to a guy I hate.¡± ¡°And why do you think that makes you sound any better?¡± Licht turned toward me with eyes that clearly reprimanded me for endorsing any of this nonsense. But, pretending not to notice, I focused on the board game I was playing with Bortz. The four of us¡ªLicht, Goblin, Bortz, and I¡ªwere gathered in one of the fortress rooms, a space that served as a living room with a distinctly Middle Eastern aesthetic. Vibrant colors and ornate patterns decorated the walls, and we sat on two L-shaped sofas that formed a half-rectangle around a low central table. Goblin smirked. ¡°Trying to get her to go against me, aren¡¯t we? Too bad, Honey. She thinks the same as me.¡± I frowned, glancing up. ¡°Excuse me? I might love you and all, but are you trying to ruin my reputation?¡± ¡°Sigh, it¡¯s a waste of time trying to reason with a maniac like you. And stop calling me Honey,¡± Licht barked. ¡°Where is that nickname even coming from?¡± ¡°Really?¡± Goblin asked, glancing at Licht¡¯s hair. The look Licht gave him made it clear he didn¡¯t believe the excuse. ¡°Don¡¯t take me for an idiot. I know that isn¡¯t the reason.¡± ¡°Then why are you asking, Honey?¡± Goblin said, deliberately leaning closer to taunt him. ¡°Don¡¯t cling to me!¡± Licht recoiled, a reaction that only fueled Goblin¡¯s amusement. Goblin took joy in people¡¯s turmoil. For friends, it came as teasing; for enemies, it was far crueler. While pretending not to notice their tussle, I focused on the game against Bortz. Yet, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a small sense of relief seeing Goblin like this¡ªthe teasing, loud Goblin who loved riling people up. That serious and silent version of him from before wasn¡¯t it. This was the Goblin I liked, even if I did feel a little bad for Licht. Deciding to intervene, I said, ¡°Spare Li¡ªno, what am I saying? Spare Honey, Goblin.¡± ¡°Eh...¡± ¡°What? You too?¡± Licht exclaimed. I shrugged helplessly. ¡°Sorry. Once a nickname is assigned, you can¡¯t strip yourself of it. Look at everyone around you.¡± Licht looked ready to argue but hesitated when Bortz and I nodded in agreement. Instead, he asked, ¡°Who gave everyone these ridiculous nicknames in the first place? Though I suppose it¡¯s fitting in this guy¡¯s case,¡± he said, pointing at the barely 1.3-meter-tall Goblin. ¡°We gave each other nicknames. I gave Lucy and Goblin theirs. Goblin gave Blondie hers and Charlie his. Lucy gave Bortz his.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Licht muttered, processing the information. Then he asked, ¡°Who gave White his?¡± I chuckled at the question. ¡°Guess.¡± After a moment¡¯s thought, Licht surmised, ¡°Dungeon Master 00?¡± I nodded. ¡°Yep. That¡¯s where he got that nickname, though it didn¡¯t start as one. Now that I think about it, this nickname business all started with him.¡± ¡°Except his came the other way around,¡± Goblin added. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Licht asked curious. ¡°He got the nickname first. The proposition of giving him a proper name came later.¡± ¡°Just like Frank, who was nicknamed Pink before getting the name Frank from me,¡± Goblin explained with a proud yet melancholic smile.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. After Dungeon Master 09¡¯s death as Damian, his soul was brought to the Voidborne Catacomb, where I joined him. There, we spent time catching up with Dungeon Master 00 and conducting experiments¡ªone of which led to the discovery of an alternative method of reincarnation. During these experiments, we began referring to Dungeon Master 09 as "White," much like how Frank was nicknamed "Pink." Initially, these were simple labels based on their respective colors. However, while Frank later accepted a proper name, White embraced his label as a true name¡ªone that stuck and became how we refer to him to this day. ¡°I see...¡± Licht trailed off, noticing the silence that had settled over the room. Only the sound of the board game between Bortz and me filled the air. Before either of us could break the tension, Goblin declared, ¡°I¡¯m bored! Is there anything interesting to do? I¡¯m done staying cooped up in this fortress.¡± I pretended to muse for a moment before announcing, ¡°None, unfortunately, that you¡¯d find interesting.¡± It had been 19 days since we executed the remaining clan leaders and crowned Aquaflora as the Argyrian Elven Queen. Since then, we hadn¡¯t left the fortress. We holed ourselves up here, letting Aquaflora bring peace to her nation on her own. Well, not entirely on her own¡ªBlondie was with her, assisting her. What? You¡¯re saying that¡¯s not nearly enough help? Maybe, but only if you misunderstand what we¡¯re doing. We didn¡¯t overthrow a dictatorship or take over a headless state. The system the Argyrian elves worked under wasn¡¯t broken¡ªit simply needed a shift. Our goal was to cripple their patriarch¡¯s hold, severing their ties to him and transforming them into elves of Argyrian descent, free of his influence. The severing of those ties would mean breaking vows, but the consequences were minimal: the loss of heightened elemental affinity. It was a small price to pay considering our goal which is ultimately the unification of the Argyrian population them under a new ancestral tree¡ªAquaflora soon to be manifested Ancestral Tree. ¡°None? Really? But I¡¯m really bored. When do you think she¡¯ll be done with what she¡¯s doing down there?¡± ¡°Give her some time. She must proceed with patience when dealing with all the Argyrian clans,¡± I replied. Goblin rolled his eyes, clearly impatient. ¡°You sound very impatient already,¡± Bortz, engrossed in the board game we were playing, commented. ¡°You do realize we still have to help her manifest her ancestral tree, right?¡± ¡°Raaagh!¡± Goblin let out a frustrated growl, barely restraining his annoyance. That¡¯s right. An essential part of my plan to secure the Argyrians as an asset involved uniting them under an ancestral tree. Without one, they would be essentially useless to us. Luckily, we were close to achieving this. Aquaflora, a former elder of the Argyrian Patriarch, had bargained her freedom to live outside the capital for the promise of one day manifesting her own tree. Since gaining her freedom, she had been steadily leveling her affinity points to manifest the ancestral tree the Patriarch had yet to claim. ¡°How many affinity points is she short?¡± Goblin asked. ¡°Six,¡± I replied. ¡°Tch. That¡¯s at least the equivalent of two level-ups. That¡¯s going to take too long,¡± Goblin clicked his tongue. ¡°Hm.¡± I smirked. ¡°Why does it sound like you regret this?¡± ¡°Because I do,¡± he admitted. ¡°Yet you chose it. What was it you said? That you were going to have fun with this? Something about unleashing yourself against any Argyrian dissident?¡± ¡°I...¡± He trailed off, clearly reluctant to admit it. ¡°Those were your words, weren''t they?¡± I pressed. Begrudgingly, he nodded. As I moved my piece and ended the game with a hard-won victory against Bortz, I added, ¡°Then bear with it. You chose the fun option; now deal with the long, agonizing consequences. Not that it will be particularly long or agonizing. Aquaflora isn¡¯t that high-level. It¡¯s still relatively easy for her to level up. Give her at most a month, after she¡¯s done with her current tasks.¡± ¡°A month?¡± someone echoed apprehensively. Surprisingly, it wasn¡¯t Goblin¡ªit was Licht, or rather, Honey. ¡°A problem?¡± I asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°If it¡¯ll take at least a month, plus the time it takes for her current tasks, and not to mention the time needed for all the Argyrians of the capital to take their vow to her... would I be wrong in thinking it¡¯ll take over two months?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a reasonable prediction,¡± I nodded. ¡°What of it?¡± He seemed hesitant, so I prompted, ¡°You think that¡¯s too much time?¡± ¡°Missing the Land of Men already?¡± Goblin teased. ¡°No. I mean¡ªyes, but not to you, Goblin. I was talking to...¡± Licht stumbled over his words. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I cut in. ¡°I get what you mean. You were sent here to retrieve the authority, and all you¡¯ve seen lately is us doing one side quest after another." Taking a deliberate pause, I added, "it might feel like securing the authority isn¡¯t our utmost focus. It must be frustrating.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say frustrating exactly...¡± ¡°But still, I get it. And I think you¡¯ll understand better if you see the big picture.¡± ¡°..And what is the big picture?¡± he asked. I glanced at Goblin and Bortz with a smile. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s the perfect opportunity to fill you in. Let¡¯s start at the beginning. You understand why we need the help of the other Patriarchs, right?¡± He nodded. ¡°Of course. Because we can¡¯t defeat the Argyrian Patriarch on our own.¡± ¡°Exactly. And you understand that while all the Elven Monarchs of Quel¡¯thalas agreed to lend us their strength, they wouldn¡¯t do so without ensuring their subjects¡ªtheir greatest assets¡ªare secure.¡± He nodded again. ¡°Then that¡¯s it. What we¡¯re doing here is exactly what the other Monarchs are doing. We¡¯re not wasting our time. Each Monarch who agreed to join our coalition is currently ensuring the safety of their subjects in their imminent absence. This is especially true for the Umbryan Patriarch, whose entire capital fell victim to a vicious and unpredictable attack by the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s stampede. They¡¯ll need time to strengthen their capitals. The same goes for us. The difference is that we¡¯re building everything from scratch. We have no Monarch yet at our side, and even when we do, she¡¯ll be subpar monarch. But it will be worth it. Do you know why?¡± ¡°Because once we¡¯re through with the Argyrian Patriarch, Aquaflora will inherit his ancestral tree,¡± Licht answered. ¡°Exactly. Once this battle is over, we won¡¯t just retrieve an authority¡ªwe¡¯ll leave this place with one of the four strongest ancestral trees of the world.¡± I paused for emphasis. ¡°Now here¡¯s something new for you. What if I told you we could leave Quel¡¯thalas with even more? What if we left this place with something that could solve a problem that¡¯s been hindering you, me, and every other human Dungeon Master for centuries?¡± B2. Chapter 37: Calm before the Storm As it always did, the flying giant whale gurgled, sending a wave of vibrations through the vast corridor. It served as a constant reminder that I was aboard a flying fortress rather than just some castle. The hum rippled through the air as I walked toward the deck, which¡ªgiven the fortress''s sheer size¡ªfelt more like an expansive front yard. It was then as I walked around that I spotted who I was looking for. Leaning on the balustrade, her gaze seemed distant, following Veilleuse-19 as it soared alongside the flying whale. I approached, stealthily. "Miss traveling with her?" I asked, pouncing on her from behind. My sudden arrival startled her, and her reaction made me shake my head in disappointment. "Tsk, tsk. Here I was thinking I¡¯d taught you to always be aware of your surroundings. Seems all my efforts were in vain." Aquaflora tried to defend herself but faltered, resorting instead to a counterattack. "You¡¯ve never taught me anything about that! You¡¯ve only ever thrown monsters at me and expected me to defeat them." I chuckled, conceding her point. "Alright, I suppose that¡¯s true," I admitted, though I still felt it didn¡¯t excuse her lack of awareness. I decided to let it slide. "What were you doing?" "Me? I suppose I was¡­ watching your Red Wyvern flying." I arched an eyebrow. "Let me rephrase that: What were you thinking about? Missing the Argyrian capital already?" It had been over a month since her coronation as Elven Queen Aquaflora, monarch of the Lunor elves of Quel''thalas. It was not just a title in name, either; since her coronation, she had earned the actual title of monarch through the system after manifesting her ancestral tree with the wood elemental sub-affinity, officially making her a bona fide matriarch. Though compared to other elven monarchs she was still considered small fries, her reserves of energy as monarch¡ªstolen from the Argyrian Patriarch¡ªwere nothing to scoff at. "Missing the capital, huh?" she echoed in a tone far from enthusiastic. "No." "No? That doesn¡¯t sound like something a monarch leaving her people behind would say. That sounds more like the girl who traded her ancestral tree for her freedom speaking." She chuckled softly. "Well, you¡¯re still talking to that same girl." "What makes you say that? From my point of view, you¡¯re no longer that same girl. You have no patriarch to trade your ancestral tree for freedom. You¡¯ve become an elven monarch yourself. That¡¯s a big upgrade, I¡¯d say." "I know," she said hesitantly. "Things have changed¡­ for the better." She glanced at me briefly before continuing. "But I can¡¯t help but feel like not much has changed. It¡¯s as though someone just took over the role that was once his." I frowned. "Are you insinuating that I¡¯m a tyrant?" "Are you claiming you¡¯re not?" "Obviously. I¡¯m a lot of things, but a tyrant¡ª" Aquaflora grimaced. "Okay, maybe there was a bit of tyranny, but it was for a good cause." "You tell me." "It was. Through that little bit of tyranny, we put you in power. You can do good things that will forever wash away those terrible moments from their memories." "I¡¯ve thought about that, too," she admitted. "But¡ª" "But nothing," I interjected firmly. "You took over the Argyrian capital for, what, two months at best? It¡¯s normal that not much has changed. Our goal wasn¡¯t to upend everything¡ªit was to fix a problem and secure something useful for later. And we did both." Aquaflora fell silent, seemingly mulling over my words. After a moment, she added, "Maybe my nudging¡ªforceful as it can sometimes be¡ªmakes it feel like we¡¯re on different sides. But I¡¯d like to remind you why we began this journey together." "To defeat the Argyrian Patriarch," she said. I nodded. "Once that¡¯s done, perhaps¡ªno, surely¡ªwe¡¯ll think of ways to better the lives of your Argyrian subjects. In fact, we can start now. Tell me, what do you want? What does the Queen want?"This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. She sighed. "Don¡¯t tease me like that, or I¡¯ll start calling you Queen Arianna too." "I wouldn¡¯t mind that." "Sigh¡­ why is it always a lost battle against you?" "What do you want?" I repeated. Aquaflora pondered the question for a moment before finally saying, "I think I¡¯d like the capital to be more open with nearby villages." "As in trades?" "Yes, but not just that. Back when I lived in the villages, children would often ask questions about the capital. But, as their parents requested, I had to describe it as a terrible place. While it has always felt monotonous, it wasn¡¯t a terrible place. It¡¯s just that if they went there¡ª" "They¡¯d be bound in chains by the Patriarch?" She nodded. "Well, then you can do that. Nothing¡¯s stopping you. Certainly not me, even if you somehow think I would." "Please stop teasing me," she said with an exasperated laugh. "I get it. I¡¯m not insinuating that you¡¯re a terrible person anymore¡ªeven though¡­" "Even though?" "Just forget about it." "Alright," I said, waving at Veilleuse-19 as it flew by. As the wyvern disappeared into the clouds, I added, "I almost forgot why I was looking for you. Wanna come inside? Everyone¡¯s having fun, and you¡¯ve been nowhere to be found." Goblin, thrilled to finally leave behind the stagnant monotony, had organized a sort of party as soon as we set sail for our next destination. "I think I prefer it sober," Aquaflora said. "I do too," I admitted. "But now¡¯s the time to let go. We¡¯ve all earned it, especially you. Let¡¯s see this as a proper party for your coronation." She still looked hesitant, so I linked arms with her and literally dragged her along. "Much more terrible times is waiting for us; we¡¯d better enjoy things while we still can." Aquaflora tried to free herself but quickly gave up. Matriarch or not, she was no match for my strength. I dragged her into the ongoing festivities, where the scene before us was¡­ lively, to say the least. Honey was on top of a table, singing with a bottle in hand as though it were a microphone. Goblin, in his male form, was on the same table, performing what I could only describe as "twerking". Meanwhile, Bortz and Blondie, equally deep into their cups, were cuddling and applauding the spectacle. "Honey! Look who¡¯s finally joining us¡ªour Queens!" the deeply inebriated Honey called out. "Erm... I think you got the name wrong. I¡¯m Goblin, and you¡¯re Honey," Goblin corrected, ending the show. "But yes, you¡¯re right, Honey." He turned to an attendant and motioned for drinks. "Someone bring something for the true One and Only Empress of the land of men¡ªArianna¡ªand her weird-haired friend, Aquaflora!" *** Just like that, a few days went by. During those days, we left the Argyrian corner of Quel¡¯thalas and arrived at a place very familiar to us¡ªthe vicinity of Mistwood Arbor village. ¡°Goddess, my head,¡± Licht moaned beside me on the deck. ¡°Is it that terrible?¡± I asked. ¡°Yeah,¡± he nodded, gagging as if repressing something from coming up. ¡°It¡¯s unfair how you, Goblin, and Bortz are completely fine after what happened yesterday.¡± Don¡¯t wish your misery upon me, buddy. I chuckled internally at his plight. Seeing how miserable he looked with his hangover, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a little pity. ¡°You should go ask Aquaflora to detoxify you. She has healing skills. But really, you need to level up your poison and ailment resistance skills,¡± I teased. Being as high level as he was, it would normally be a conventionally difficult task for someone like Licht to get drunk. With or without those resistance skills, the system naturally raises a person¡¯s resistance silently. But here¡¯s the thing¡ªit¡¯s not impossible. Proof of that was Licht, who had done what was necessary to make it happen and was now facing the consequences. ¡°Huh? You were saying something? Ah... yeah, yeah.¡± Catching movement in the corner of my vision, I added, ¡°You¡¯re in luck. Medication is coming your way.¡± At my words, Licht turned to see Aquaflora approaching. She didn¡¯t look entirely fine herself, but she was far less green than Licht. ¡°If it isn¡¯t our Oriental Diva honoring us with her presence,¡± Licht remarked. ¡°Oriental... Diva?¡± Aquaflora asked, genuinely confused. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t tell me you forgot what you did yesterday?¡± ¡°What did I do?¡± Smiling, I answered, ¡°Never mind. More urgently, could you detoxify my friend over here?¡± ¡°You too?¡± she asked, to which Licht immediately nodded, bringing about an even more miserable reaction. Seeing this, Aquaflora wasted no time. She approached, placed her hand on his shoulder, and activated her skill. A vital greenish surge emanated from her palm pressed against his back, flowing through his entire body. It pulsed again and again, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat. After a long minute, the green pallor on Licht¡¯s face slowly faded, replaced by healthier tones. ¡°That¡¯s the maximum I can heal someone your level. It¡¯s been the same with Blondie. How are you feeling?¡± Aquaflora asked. ¡°I still feel it, but I¡¯m much better now. Thanks,¡± Licht said, his gratitude genuine. ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± I replied before Aquaflora could. ¡°Because I¡¯m going to need you all in full cognitive capacity,¡± I added, pointing ahead. Considering the distance, it took a few minutes for the sight to become visible to the others. Ahead of us, three distinct giant masses loomed. The first was a massive verdant shape that could easily be mistaken for a mountain, covered in lush greenery. On closer inspection, it was clear it wasn¡¯t just green moss but an actual forest of trees. Staring harder, it became obvious that it wasn¡¯t a mountain at all but a living, mythical beast. It reminded me of the drake I once slew along with the stampede of monsters that came for the Umbryan capital. Except this one was in a league of its own, both in size and, clearly, in strength. It lay prone, as if waiting, but upon hearing the screech of Veilleuse-19 and the horn-like noise from the giant white whale we rode, it turned toward us. The second mass was a flying fortress. Unlike the one we were riding, which rested on the back of a whale, this fortress hovered high in the sky, defying gravity itself. The third mass ahead was an all-too-familiar sight. It was none other than the Umbryan Patriarch¡¯s personal familiar. Like the floating fortress and the giant tree-covered drake, they all belonged to the other elven monarch we were meant to meet. B2. Chapter 38: Summit It''s been less than three months since our departure from the Umbryan capital. That''s about the same time the Umbryan Patriarch estimated he would need to settle everything on his side before he could officially join the coalition we proposed. Having relayed that estimated timespan to Goblin through his little bird, he gave a similar timeline to the Aurian Matriarch and the Patriarch of the Ferron family. So, when I arrived here a few days ahead of the agreed time, I fully expected the Umbryan to be the last to show, especially considering everything his capital had been through. When I asked, after he had agreed to this coalition, how long it would take for him to be ready, I braced myself for him to ask for at least a six-month delay. To my surprise, he was fine with just three months¡ªeven though I thought that was a bit rushed. That''s why seeing him here so soon wasn''t just unexpected¡ªit was a very pleasant surprise. Since everyone had come to join the party, we wasted no time organizing a summit to devise a proper strategy against the one this coalition was created for or to be exact "against". I was seated at the table where the first talks would be held. In the middle of the forest, a circular table had been arranged with the meticulous care of the Ferron Family Patriarch. Frankly, he could have suggested holding the summit in his flying fortress¡ªor even in ours¡ªbut to keep things neutral, he had wisely chosen this location. To my immediate left sat Aquaflora, and to my right sat Blondie. Behind me stood Honey, Goblin, and Bortz. Across from me was the familiar face of the Umbryan Patriarch, who had two of his elders standing by his side, both smiling courteously. Glancing briefly to my left, I saw an empty seat. It was a spot that, judging by the two Terran elves standing nearby, would normally belong to the Ferron Family Patriarch. However, he was nowhere to be found. At the polar opposite corner of the table, a figure caught my attention. I couldn¡¯t help but note how distinctly the Aurian Matriarch stood out from her kin. Yes, her kin. Despite her golden hair, a trait common among the Aurian elves, her complexion and the contours of her face bore little resemblance to them. The Matriarch''s features diverged significantly from the typical elven visage that characterized the Argyrian and Umbryan families, who shared what I might describe as a more oriental facial structure¡ªa trait faintly present among the Aurian as well. Yet, something about her and only her reminded me more of the indigenous people from the cold Siberian regions of the world I came from, rather than people from oriental in general. The attire of her kin standing behind her further emphasized this impression. Their outfits, though adapted¡ªor rather, bastardized¡ªto suit the local weather, were clearly designed for a more frigid environment. Thick and fur-lined, they seemed almost out of place against the milder, if not outright tropical, surroundings. The contrast between the Matriarch and her kin only deepened the dichotomy. With the exception of her golden hair, she looked like she belonged to a different elven family entirely. Her skin was a unique shade I had never seen before in Fiendfell, though it resembled something I had once encountered in my old world. It was a deep, rich tone that seemed to blend Black and Middle Eastern features¡ªan appearance entirely atypical for an elf. This darker complexion created a striking contrast with her golden hair and the bold, golden attire she wore. It made her stand out in an almost magnetic way. As I studied the unique specimen that was the Aurian Matriarch, I felt a nudge to my left. "You''re staring too much," Aquaflora, seated beside me, scolded in a low voice. "Staring?" "Don''t pretend with me¡ªyou were literally¡ª" Aquaflora started, but her words were cut off by none other than the Aurian Matriarch herself. "Is there a problem? I couldn¡¯t help but notice you glancing my way," she asked directly, her sharp gaze fixed on us. "See?" Aquaflora whispered pointedly. Smiling, I responded, "Oh, here I was thinking I was sly. Forgive me for that, Matriarch, but I couldn¡¯t help myself. You are rather different from the idea I had of you." "And what do you mean by that, Miss Arianna? Or should I still call you Queen Arianna?" "Arianna is just fine, but I don''t mind either. And Matriarch, what I meant is that I expected you to be a little different. You see, when my little one over there," I said, motioning at Goblin, "when he came back from the Aurian capital, he didn''t tell me the Aurian Matriarch was such a sight. When I saw you, I was surprised to see how gorgeously different you look. Take this as a moment of appreciation¡ªyou¡¯re unlike anything I¡¯ve ever seen before." The reaction to that statement was mostly silence, but each silence carried its own meaning. Aquaflora¡¯s silence was one of disapproval, almost scolding. The elf across from me wore a curious expression, one that hinted at amusement. And as for the Matriarch herself, her silence was contemplative, seizing the moment as if weighing my words, before letting out a small chuckle. "Is that so?" she finally said. "Yes," I replied. Then, glancing at the Aurian elves standing behind her, I added, "It was very selfish of you to not pass your beauty onto your subjects." "Selfish, huh?" She chuckled again, this time with a smile. "I would call it something else." "Oh? And what would that be?" "...Mercy." Without knowing much about the Matriarch¡¯s history, it was obvious that she was fundamentally different from the elves now known as Solvan Elves. At the very least, she was once part of an elven family from which she inherited her unique appearance. The common Aurian elves, on the other hand, seemed to reflect traits of another lineage altogether. Her words only confirmed this. For someone like her, who had most likely usurped the monarch who originally created the Aurian elves, choosing not to impose her image upon her subjects spoke volumes. If she had gone down the same route as the Umbryan and Argyrian Patriarchs, ensuring all her subjects resembled her, she would have had to push these elves to extinction to allow her own kin to thrive. Allowing them to be themselves was, as she said, an act of mercy. "Indeed," I said simply. "Speaking of intriguing," she continued, "you too intrigue me. I¡¯ve heard about you, but you¡¯re not quite what I imagined." "What about me isn¡¯t as you imagined?" "It¡¯s not so much what has been said about you, but rather what hasn¡¯t been said." Pointing at me, the Matriarch asked, "How exactly did you get that title?" Without her naming it, I knew exactly which title she was referring to. There was only one that might concern a monarch like her: Demon Slaughterer. At first glance, it might appear to be just another title, but scrolling further into my stats would reveal the chilling ability tied to it¡ªa clear indication that I had once killed a Monarch. "Which Archduke of Hell did you manage to kill?" she pressed. "I haven¡¯t heard news of a demonic monarch¡¯s death. You?" She turned to the Umbryan Patriarch seeking for confirmation. The Umbryan Patriarch shook his head. The Aurian Matriarch¡¯s gaze returned to me, expectant, just as an elf dressed in an eccentric outfit interrupted the discussion. His appearance strongly reminded me of French aristocrats, minus the wig. Though, given his excentricity, a wig would¡¯ve been no less out of place than the long, rust-colored ponytail he had wrapped around his throat like a scarf.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "Death of a monarch? Did you all start plotting the demise of a fellow monarch without me?" he quipped as he took his seat¡ªthe chair belonging to Farmi, the Monarch of all Terran Elves and Patriarch of the Ferron Family. "You¡¯re late," the Aurian Matriarch pointed out, clearly annoyed. "I hope you¡¯ll find it in your heart to forgive me. So... what were we discussing?" Since no one offered an answer, the Aurian Patriarch, still eager for a response, stepped forward to explain. "We were asking Arianna over here where she got her Demon Slaughterer title." "Oh?" Farmi mused, slowly turning to exchange his first glance with me. Smiling, he asked, "Madame Arianna, may I?" May he what? The answer was obvious. He wanted to do what the other two Patriarchs had already done without asking¡ªappraise me. "Since you''re courteous enough to ask," I said with a smile, "go ahead." "Well, forgive me for the intrusion," he said, wasting no time. After a quick inspection, he mused, "Those are some impressive stats you''ve got there, Ma---." "Her stats are not the point," the Aurian Matriarch cut in sharply. "The point is her Demon Slaughterer title and the ability it gave. You, who are closest to the demon border, have you heard of the death of one of their monarchs?" "Nope, not at all," the Ferron Patriarch replied with such speed that his answer sounded more like a question than a statement. The Aurian Matriarch didn¡¯t bother to hide her mistrust of his answer, though the Ferron Patriarch pretended not to notice. Turning her attention back to me, she seemed ready to ask directly which demon monarch I had killed, but then something seemed to dawn on her. "You two know each other," she said, narrowing her eyes. I exchanged a look with the Ferron Patriarch and nodded, confirming that we did indeed know each other. "Madame Arianna was, for a short time, a neighbor and a very faithful client of mine," the Ferron Patriarch explained. "Client?" "For artifacts and such," I clarified, glancing upward where his flying fortress was stationed. Being an elven monarch who acquired his ancestral tree through the artistic main affinity, the Ferron Patriarch and, by extension, his subjects were the absolute authority when it came to obtaining interesting artifacts. Metallurgy, Alchemy, Rune Weaving, Engraving¡ªthese were all sub-affinities of the artistic main affinity, the very foundation of his power and influence as a monarch. "She was a very pleasant neighbor and a generous client," he continued, "one of the few I received from such a faraway corner of the world." At these words, the Aurian Matriarch glared at the Ferron Patriarch. "Aren¡¯t you literally confirming to my face that you know which demon monarch she took down and that you were involved in it?" "No," he denied, "Come on, you know me, you know what I do. Perhaps, as you claim, I know who it was that she took down. But my trade is my craftsmanship and selling said craftsmanship. Though, I¡¯m more of a craftsman than a seller, but I have enough pride as a seller to say that I¡¯d never betray a customer¡¯s trust unless their secret was no longer a secret to them." He glanced at me with a sorry expression, and I shook my head slightly in response. "See? My hands, feet, and most importantly my mouth are tied," he said with a theatrical sigh. "But let me make this clear: while I may have sold a few artifacts, I had no direct involvement in the slaying of any Archdemons. I would never involve myself in something like the killing of another monarch." This declaration drew the gazes of everyone at the table, a table built explicitly for us to plot the demise of exactly what he just claimed he would never involve himself in. "This is a different scenario," he defended himself immediately. "This is, in fact, a case of force majeure. I¡¯m only here because I have no other choice. I can¡¯t imagine my capital going through what Patriarch Linh¡¯s capital endured." That last statement visibly annoyed the Umbryan Patriarch, who had been mostly silent until now. So much so that he finally interjected. "Can we finally start discussing what we¡¯re here for? I would like to be done with this." Though the Aurian Matriarch didn¡¯t seem to appreciate the glare he sent her way, she made no fuss about it, allowing us to transition to what should have been the main focus of the discussion from the beginning: taking down the crazed Argyrian Patriarch. Standing from my seat, I said, "Since I was the one who proposed forming this coalition, I hope no one has any objections to me taking the lead here at this... summit." *** The summit was organized to figure out a plan to effectively deal with the rogue Patriarch. That was exactly what we attempted to do next¡ªor at least, that was the ideal outcome. Naturally, it was not the one we achieved. I can¡¯t say I was expecting anything different. While everyone agreed that the Argyrian Patriarch had to go, each had their own ideal way of achieving it. These ideas, while essentially similar, were fundamentally different in execution, as each party sought to take on the task that required the least effort on their part. This led to a complete lack of agreement among the coalition members. From what has been gathered, taking down the Argyrian Patriarch requires more than just defeating him. We also need to eliminate the Stampede that constantly surrounds him. It sounds simple, but the reality is far more complicated. The Umbryan Patriarch, who once fought against him, explained it clearly: when facing the Argyrian Patriarch, you¡¯re not battling two separate entities¡ªthe Patriarch and the Stampede¡ªbut rather him and his Stampede as a single, unified entity. How does that make sense? It doesn¡¯t¡ªnot conventionally. It only makes sense because the Argyrian is a monarch. Somehow, he has the ability to use the monsters under his control the same way a typical monarch can draw energy from their subjects. In other words, he uses them as a battery. This was the Umbryan Patriarch¡¯s biggest mistake when going against the Argyrian Patriarch. He believed that, like himself, the maddened Patriarch¡¯s reserves would be drawn from the people of his capital. Since the distance between the Argyrian and his supposed source of energy was so great, the Umbryan Patriarch assumed the Argyrian Patriarch would be at a disadvantage. Instead, the reality was the opposite. Not only was the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s reserve much larger, but the distance had no discernible impact on the energy he could draw, as he was drawing it from the monster around him. To take down the Argyrian Patriarch, we need to ensure both he and his Stampede are defeated completely. Otherwise, he will always recover by fully exploiting his ability to draw energy from his monsters. That¡¯s where the true disagreement among the Patriarchs and Matriarch lies: deciding who will handle what. While we must view the Patriarch and his Stampede as a single problem, it¡¯s clear that handling it requires splitting the task into two halves¡ªone team to handle the Patriarch and another to deal with the Stampede simultaneously. "Ladies, gentlemen," the Ferron Patriarch continued, "you know what I am, what my Cinnabar Tree is good for, and it¡¯s not offense. How about I handle the Stampede along with Madame Arianna, while Patriarch Linh and Matriarch Jay, the two spearheads of our coalition¡ª" Sneers of contempt echoed from both Patriarch Linh and Matriarch Jay. "Are you taking me for a fool?" "I would never entrust my life to someone who just admitted to being inept. We¡¯ll be long dead before you¡¯re finished with the Stampede." "Come on, I¡ª" "Shut up. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m going with that," the Umbryan Patriarch snapped. "Neither am I," the Aurian Matriarch agreed curtly. "But someone has to fight the Patriarch," the Ferron Patriarch protested. "Why don¡¯t you see for yourself?" Jay countered coldly. "I¡¯ve just explained why I¡¯d be a terrible choice, Matriarch. The most useful I¡¯d be is against the Stampede¡¯s monsters." "Then who¡¯s going to face the Argyrian Patriarch? Because while none of us want to take on that task, someone has to," the Matriarch demanded. Under normal circumstances, neither of the two elven monarchs would shy away from confronting the Argyrian Patriarch, whom they both likely still considered their equal in strength. However, the situation was uniquely different here. One of them knew she¡¯d be overpowered, while the other had learned from his own mistakes that the outcome would not be in their favor. Despite knowing that together they might stand a chance, there were two key reasons why neither wanted to take on the role. The first was the necessity of simultaneously defeating the Stampede, as explained earlier. The second reason was far simpler: they were too far away from their own subjects to fight effectively. The elven sigil known as the Ancestral Tree grants monarchs a high rate of energy flow from their subjects when drawing ressource such SP, MP and HP. However, this flow diminishes with distance, making elven monarchs most effective when their subjects are nearby. This proximity also makes their subjects vulnerable, as a smart opponent would quickly realize that eliminating the monarch¡¯s subjects is the easiest path to victory. Each of the elven monarchs had chosen to leave their subjects in safety, far away from the conflict. This decision, though wise, came at a cost: they were now significantly weakened when it comes to available ressource, making a direct confrontation with the Argyrian Patriarch a near-impossible battle of attrition. With this understanding, it¡¯s no wonder they hesitated. Done watching this summit go nowhere, I spoke up. "How about I do it?" At my words, all eyes turned to me¡ªeven Aquaflora, who had been thoroughly silent throughout the summit. She nudged me, urging me to retract my words, perhaps thinking I¡¯d spoken out of frustration. But I didn¡¯t. I had made up my mind. "What do you mean?" "Let me handle the Argyrian Patriarch while the three of you deal with his monsters. Anyone against that?" The three elven monarchs exchanged looks before coming to a collective understanding, which they expressed with a nod. "Now then, since no one objects to this suggestion, I have terms I need to discuss with you," I added with a sigh. B2. Chapter 38.1: Summit I took my time to lay out my terms¡ªyes, *my* terms¡ªbecause this was no small undertaking. In essence, I was going to deal with the Argyrian Patriarch on my own. There¡¯s no denying it: two elven monarchs could manage this far more effectively than I could, and even if I did somehow match them, I¡¯d still be haunted by the same reservations that led those monarchs to reject the role in the first place. That¡¯s precisely why I decided we needed clear conditions on how all of us would approach our fight on two fronts. Ultimately, after much discussion, my terms were agreed upon. A strict deadline was imposed on me, and I secured at least a minimal commitment from the other three. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was enough for us to move forward. Once these terms were thoroughly discussed and settled, the Aurian Matriarch brought up a topic I was certain she had been itching to address from the moment we sat down: how the loot would be divided. Each of us stood to gain something from this coalition, some more than others. Before anyone could speak, I made my expectations clear. "Naturally, upon the demise of the Argyrian Patriarch, his ancestral tree is to be inherited by Aquaflora, the current ruler of the Argyrian realm and wielder of one of the Elemental Ancestral Trees." "Naturally, huh?" the Ferron Patriarch mused. The Aurian Matriarch let out a sneer. "Why don¡¯t you just say you plan to recover it for yourself instead of pretending you¡¯re restoring it to its RighTfuL place?" "You might have opinions on my intentions," I replied evenly, "but I am simply aiming to return an ancestral tree, currently in corrupted hands, to its rightful heir." The Aurian Matriarch sneered again, her expression sharp. "Let¡¯s just pretend I believe those beautiful words¡ªthat you¡¯re not doing this because you have use for an elven monarch." "I take it you don¡¯t have any complaints about this decision, then, Matriarch?" I asked, keeping my tone measured. Her silence was my answer, as it was for the Ferron Patriarch and, finally, the Umbryan Patriarch. "I¡¯m glad we all agree on this point," I said, somewhat relieved that we had avoided another wave of disagreement. I had fully expected complaints from at least two of the three monarchs. After all, the prize I intended to claim¡ªthe Argyrian ancestral tree¡ªwould allow the rise of another elven monarch to replace the current Argyrian Patriarch. Their silence, however, spoke volumes. It wasn¡¯t due to lack of objections but rather because they recognized the level of participation I had offered in this coalition. Not only had I brought forth the suggestion, but I had also agreed to take on a dangerous and active role¡ªone they had refused. Their greed may have urged them to object, but their pride and reason restrained them, knowing that if they did, I would not hesitate to reopen negotiations about the risks I was taking. "I have no other demands," I declared, sitting back to prompt the Aurian Matriarch to voice hers.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "I want the Ancestral Tree the fool tried to accommodate," she said. Another sneer echoed from the Umbryan Patriarch. "That fool, as you call him, didn¡¯t just try to accommodate an ancestral tree of a different affinity. He actually managed it." "At the cost of his sanity," the Ferron Patriarch pointed out. "Are you sure you want to attempt accommodating such an ancestral tree, knowing it drove a fellow monarch mad, Matriarch?" "Hmph. I¡¯m not a fool like he was," she replied with her usual condescending tone. "I¡¯ll be fine." This coalition, the madness of the Argyrian Patriarch¡ªeverything had led us here. The Argyrian Patriarch had completely conquered the elemental affinity and attempted to accommodate an ancestral tree from a nature sub-affinity. In theory, this should have resulted in his death, but he had survived, though at the cost of his sanity. Certain points¡ªlike the involvement of the authority Rule and Overrule¡ªwere worth mentioning, but none of the monarchs knew of that authority¡¯s existence. It was simpler to pretend it didn¡¯t exist. "Which nature sub-affinity did he manifest his ancestral tree from?" the Umbryan Patriarch asked with a frown. "That¡¯s actually a good question," the Ferron Patriarch agreed, turning to the Aurian Matriarch. The Aurian Matriarch clearly preferred not to answer, but as all eyes were on her, she conceded. "I¡¯m not certain, but the options are few as far as nature sub-affinities go. Based on his new abilities, I suspect the ancestral tree originated from Biocatalysis." "Biocatalysis?" both Patriarchs echoed. "That¡¯s the nature sub-affinity that enhances one¡¯s likelihood of acquiring skills and abilities related to using another creature¡¯s biological aspects as catalysts, right?" the Ferron Patriarch asked after a thoughtful pause. The Aurian Matriarch confirmed with a nod. Deep in thought, the Umbryan Patriarch pointed out, "That doesn¡¯t seem... What about the ancestral tree that¡¯s allowing him to control all these creatures?" Though the Umbryan Patriarch tried to be subtle, his concern was clear. He feared that by acquiring the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s ancestral tree, the Aurian Matriarch might gain the ability to control the stampede¡ªcurrently the biggest threat. She shook her head. "I have no clue how he¡¯s able to do that." "Is there no nature sub-affinity that allows one to control monsters?" the Ferron Patriarch asked. "There is. In fact, there are more than one," the Aurian Matriarch admitted, "but I have already manifested an ancestral tree from one of these sub-affinities, so..." "...So no one else could have done the same?" the Ferron Patriarch concluded. The Aurian Matriarch nodded in agreement. "What if it were the product of a skill?" Aquaflora surmised, speaking for the first time since the beginning of the summit. Though her suggestion sounded bold, it was clear that the sharp gazes from the three monarchs made her recoil in visible shyness. "No skill can be that powerful!" the Umbryan Patriarch denied sharply. His response carried an edge of emotion that betrayed a deeper personal stake, more than mere pragmatism. "Are we certain, though?" the Ferron Patriarch mused. "As an ancestral tree wielder, you couldn''t appraise him. So, what if it really is a skill? One that he''s acquired and managed to level to an exceptional degree? That could explain his attempt to accommodate an ancestral tree from a different sub-affinity, could it not?" At these words, the two other patriarchs gave far more consideration to the Ferron Patriarch than they had to Aquaflora. "That might make sense," the Umbryan Patriarch and Aurian Matriarch admitted reluctantly. "Though it doesn''t make the decision any less foolish." "And I never pretended it wasn¡¯t," the Ferron Patriarch replied smoothly. As the patriarchs continued exchanging their reasoning and theories, I sat there silently. I already knew the answer and had achieved the outcome I wanted. There was no real need for me to take part in this conversation anymore. I only had to pretend to listen¡ªeverything left to discuss at this summit was completely irrelevant to me. B2. Chapter 39: Dusk At that very table in the middle of the woods, the terms regarding the fate of the sigils in possession of the Argyrian Patriarch upon his demise were ratified: the Ancestral Tree manifested out of the elemental affinity is to be handed over to Aquaflora. As for the other sigil in his possession, it is to be entrusted to the Aurian Matriarch. Aquaflora desired the ancestral tree, rumored to be the source of the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s madness. As a manifestation of the nature sub-affinity¡ªsomething part of the affinity over which she, as a Monarch, wielded almost absolute control¡ªadding this ancestral tree to her collection was her sole demand and likely her primary reason for participating in this endeavor. It was reasonable for a Monarch to desire more ancestral trees for their collection, but beneath that natural ambition, it was obvious she was driven by something else¡ªsomething everyone at the table knew she had her greedy eyes set on. The sigil in question seemed to grant the Argyrian Patriarch the power to control monsters as if they were subjects, akin to how Monarchs ruled their kin. This potential didn¡¯t go unnoticed by the other Monarchs, but none dared speak against her wish to seize it, for while the thought of another Monarch claiming such power was unsettling, no one was foolish¡ªor bold¡ªenough to attempt accommodating an Argyrian ancestral tree from a different affinity. The risks of death or madness, as evidenced by the Patriarch¡¯s fate, were far too great. So no one voiced anything against it, for doing so would make them look unreasonably bitter, worse still it might hinder the advancement of this whole effort when everyone wants this endeavor to come to fruition. Beyond this, the Aurian Matriarch made no further demands. As for the Ferron Patriarch and the Umbryan Patriarch, their demands were relatively insubstantial¡ªwhich, I admit, is a little unsettling. I had expected the Umbryan Patriarch to be more unaccommodating. To be fair, he had a clear motive for joining the coalition. First, he recognized the threat the maddened Argyrian Patriarch posed to his own safety and that of his subjects. Secondly, he carried a grudge from his prior defeat¡ªa wound to his pride he could not let go. How ironic. The progenitor of the Noctils Elves, who once mocked me for seeking Cleon¡¯s death out of petty revenge, is now driven by the same base emotion: resentment. How the table has turned. Or not. As for the Ferron Patriarch. It would be wrong to say that he had no demands, but his terms paled compared to those of the Aurian Matriarch or myself. His request was minor¡ªat least in my eyes¡ªbut not to Aquaflora. She opposed them outright, leaving me no choice but to intervene and defer the negotiations until after the summit. The summit concluded without further argument. Surprisingly, the Ferron Patriarch, who could have taken offense at a certain person¡¯s reply to his very simple demand, instead proposed an unconventional conclusion to our battle: a moment of amusement before the inevitable battle. On the edge of the forest where the summit was held, an area had been prepared at the Ferron Patriarch¡¯s direction, for a final celebration. A party awaited us. As I sipped my drink, I watched the mesmerizing spectacle unfold. At the center of the clearing, dancers adorned in form-fitting dresses performed. The fabrics, embellished with golden beads and sequins, shimmered with each movement. Their designs clung and flowed in equal measure, accentuating the dancers¡¯ grace. Bare-armed, they moved with elegance and daring, their quick, rhythmic steps keeping pace with the staccato beats of tam-tams, while longer, sweeping gestures matched the mournful wails of flutes. As they spun and dipped, their skirts flared outward, a cascade of colors and light creating a captivating allure. The performance was bold and striking, yet meant to appeal to a very particular audience¡ªan audience Aquaflora evidently didn¡¯t belong to. While I enjoyed the sight, she stared at me with a pointed intensity that was impossible to ignore. She had been drinking and glaring at me for some time now, making it increasingly difficult to pretend I hadn¡¯t noticed. "A problem?" I asked, deciding to address the issue directly. "I¡¯m sorry to interrupt your clearly riveting entertainment," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "but I want to know what you discussed with the Ferron Patriarch." I had just left his side after a brief conversation, having come to sit down and enjoy the performance. I finished off what remained in my glass before answering. "Not much. We just discussed the terms of his demand, the one you rejected." "And?" she pressed, her voice sharp. "We¡¯ve agreed on a concession." Her expression darkened, making it clear that my answer was far from satisfactory. "A concession? What kind of concession exactly? If it involves reducing his demand, I¡¯ll still refuse. Be it twenty-five thousand or just one, I¡¯m not giving him any of my people." Twenty-five thousand lunor elves¡ªthat was the Ferron Patriarch¡¯s demand. He wanted Aquaflora to surrender 25,000 of the Argyrian people in the capital. It was his only request, and it was met with a firm no from Aquaflora. Considering how little it was compared to the assistance he offered and his previous demands, her refusal could have been seen as unreasonable if not outright insulting. But luckily for us, the Ferron Patriarch was someone you could bargain with¡ªand that was exactly what I did after the summit talks concluded. Looking Aquaflora in the eyes, I smiled and reassured her, "I bargained. I bargained well. Don¡¯t worry; you won¡¯t have to surrender any of your people, dear Matriarch of the Argyrian family," I said, emphasizing the last phrase. "There you go again," she replied with a sigh. "What? You¡¯re not going to say I¡¯m teasing you, are you? You really are the current Matriarch of the Argyrian family." At my words, Aquaflora sank into contemplative silence before softly saying, "It didn¡¯t feel like it back there." "During the summit?" I asked. She nodded. "Well," I said, poking her cheek playfully, "that would be your fault." "What?"If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Come on, you were expecting me to reassure you, weren¡¯t you?" "I¡ª" she began, but I cut her off with a playful jab to her side. "Unfortunately for you, my sweet Matriarch, I¡¯m not going to," I told her. Then I continued, my tone more serious. "If there¡¯s something I¡¯ve learned early in this life, it¡¯s that to protect what matters to me, to achieve my dreams, and to become as strong as possible, I needed strength. Not because it was my goal to be the strongest, but because strength is the only thing the world respects. Not names, not titles¡ªjust strength. That¡¯s why the voices of the weak go unheard, and those of the strong make the laws." I let my words sink in before continuing. "Today, I stood up for 25,000 of your people. Not because I cared about them¡ªthey¡¯re irrelevant to me¡ªbut because you cared about them. That¡¯s why you stood up for them. But while you bear the title of Matriarch, you¡¯re no different than when you were just a producer of ancestral trees for the Argyrian Patriarch. That¡¯s why no one at the table took your refusal seriously. Now repeat it to me. Why do you think no one at the table took your refusal seriously?" "Because I didn¡¯t have the strength to back it up," she admitted softly. I nodded. "That¡¯s right. You didn¡¯t. A weakling standing up for weaklings¡ªthat¡¯s how they saw you," I explained sternly. "You¡¯ve probably guessed my point: I want to get stronger. But strength isn¡¯t an instantaneous process¡ªit takes time. The people and things we care about can inspire us, but they can also weigh us down. That¡¯s why it¡¯s vital to know when to hold on and when to let go. Learn to protect what truly matters and accept that sacrifices are sometimes necessary. You can¡¯t protect everyone, and true strength comes with the ability to accept that." Aquaflora was silent for a moment, like a child digesting a lecture. But then, as a frown appeared on her face, she asked with clear distrust, "Don¡¯t tell me you¡ª" "I told you already, didn¡¯t I? No one is touching your people. Not one Argyrian, or 25,000 as he demanded," I reassured her immediately. "You swear?" "I swear." But as Aquaflora stared at me for what felt like over a minute, I finally protested. "You still don¡¯t trust me? Have I ever lied to you?" She hesitated for a moment. "You may have never explicitly lied, but you¡¯ve often not told me everything." "See? You agree that while I don¡¯t always tell you everything, I have never lied. So, right now, I¡¯m telling you that your people are fine because I came to a concession with the Ferron Patriarch, and you still think I¡¯m lying." "Okay, alright, I believe you," she relented. "Now tell me¡ªwhat concession did you two come to?" "Ah¡­ that¡¯s a secret." "And you¡¯re not going to tell me about it?" "That¡¯s the concept." She pouted at my answer, but seeing¡ªand foreseeing¡ªthat I wouldn¡¯t budge, she conceded. "Alright, fine, keep your secrets to yourself. I don¡¯t care, so long as it doesn¡¯t concern the Argyrian people anymore. It doesn¡¯t, does it? Tell me it¡¯s not some terrible agreement that¡¯ll come back to bite me later¡ª" "I¡¯m telling you they¡¯re fine, so quit it already," I replied just as the music changed. Unlike the alluring tones meant to enhance the dancers¡¯ performance earlier, this tune was more festive, inviting the bystanders to join in the merriment. Bortz and Blondie, already deep into the festivities, were among the first to take the floor. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Aquaflora changed the subject. "So¡­ mind telling me how exactly you got to know the Ferron Patriarch?" "What else do you want me to tell you? I think I¡¯ve already told everyone at the table how he and I got to know each other. We were once neighbors, and I once needed his help¡ªmainly through the purchase of artifacts that he and his people produce." "There has to be more than that. You two seem like such good friends." "Good friends, huh," I mused, glancing at the Ferron Patriarch, who had risen from his seat to invite the Aurian Matriarch to dance. His invitation was tragically declined, as the Matriarch was enjoying the company of her all-female escort, who clung to her as though to keep her warm. He had chosen the worst possible person to ask for a dance, but the rejection didn¡¯t deter the rust-haired Patriarch. Noticing our judging gazes, he strode toward us with a large smile on his face. "Despite what you think of him after that demand, the Ferron Patriarch is the most reasonable of the elven monarchs. Be courteous with him, and you¡¯ll be good friends," I whispered to Aquaflora just as the Patriarch arrived before us. "Hello. I hope you¡¯re all enjoying yourselves," he said warmly. "We are, Patriarch," I responded. "It¡¯s a very entertaining party," I added, glancing at Bortz and Blondie, who were fully immersed in the festivities, joined by both Honey and Goblin on the dance floor. "That¡¯s high praise," the Patriarch said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. Then, turning to Aquaflora, he asked with a gentlemanly bow, "Would you honor me with a dance, Matriarch?" He extended his hand toward her. The unexpected request left Aquaflora visibly flustered. I did my best to suppress the laughter threatening to escape. "I¡­" she stammered, glancing in my direction. To avoid bursting into laughter, I looked away. Suddenly, I felt her hand grab mine. "Sorry, Patriarch, but Arianna just invited me to dance," she said before dragging me onto the dance floor. As we began to move to the rhythm of the flute and tam-tam, I told her, "The elf whose invitation you just declined could have been the start of a solid alliance. He¡¯s the Patriarch of one of the most unique elven families¡ªone that deeply values culture and knowledge. Peaceful by nature, their craftsmanship is their greatest pride. They yearn for trade but struggle due to problematic neighbors who hinder their access to markets. This makes them the perfect allies for a newly declared elven monarch seeking something different for their subjects than what their previous monarchs offered." With a sigh, Aquaflora admitted, "I get it. I shouldn¡¯t have refused his dance. I should¡¯ve used the opportunity to build a good relationship." Then, after making a twirl in our dance, she drew closer and whispered with an unapologetic smile, "But you know what? Right now, I don¡¯t regret refusing your friend¡¯s invitation."
A few days went by. "Everyone remembers exactly what¡¯s expected of them, right?" I asked, glancing at Honey and Goblin seated to my left and Bortz and Blondie on my right. Each of them nodded in response, prompting a contented smile from me. "Good. Then I won¡¯t have to worry about anything." I was seated in the conference room of ¡°the¡± flying fortress, giving everyone a last-minute pregame speech before the big event. It had been nearly two days since the summit and the party that followed. Since then, we had been traveling toward the location where our trusted source claimed the infamous white serpent, responsible for destroying part of the Umbryan and Argyrian territories, had last been spotted. This, by extension, meant that this was also where we expected to find the Argyrian Patriarch and his stampede. We were closing in on our destination, and as per our plan with the elven monarchs, hostilities would begin immediately upon arrival. There was no better time for a final pep talk than now. Looking at each of them individually, I declared, "We¡¯re finally here ladies and gentlemen. After over nine long months of waiting and preparation, it¡¯s finally within reach. It took a lot of patience, effort, and self-control, but we¡¯ve made it. In less than a day, everything will change. We¡¯ll have [Rule and Overrule] back. We¡¯ll get justice for our fallen friends¡ªCharlie, Frank, and even ¡°him¡±.¡± My thoughts turned to that little boy, the one who had apparently wielded [Rule and Overrule]. Normally, I have a strict kill-on-sight policy for fellow reincarnates who hold an authority and fail to use it as they should for whatever personal reason. But after hearing about the child''s situation from Goblin and the others, I couldn¡¯t help but feel pity¡ªmaybe even compassion. He didn¡¯t deserve the fate he got. So, we¡¯ll get justice for him, too. ¡°In less than a day, we¡¯ll reclaim Goblin¡¯s ancestral tree and perhaps will get what will allow us all to break the oppressive status quo in the Land of Men. Tomorrow will be a glorious day. So whatever challenges you face out there today, endure them by thinking about what tomorrow holds." Lifting my glass, I wished upon them, "So, on these words, ladies and gentlemen, I wish you all the best of luck." No less than three hours after that final pep talk, we arrived at the location where the battle against the Argyrian Patriarch and his stampede would take place. B2. Chapter 40: Argyrian Patriarch We arrived. That much was clear when the flying fortress made a slow descent, revealing the ground below like maggots crawling over a bald patch of forest. Just like last time, the creatures crawling around came in all forms¡ªbipedal, quadrupedal, even flying monsters¡ªexcept now they seemed to number in the hundreds of thousands. "He really didn''t waste time," I remarked, leaning against the edge of the flying fortress. "Yes," Aquaflora acquiesced at my side, her gaze fixed on the scene below. ¡°unfortunately.¡± We were currently riding the Ferron Patriarch''s flying fortress, as agreed during the summit. His fortress, a literal floating stronghold, boasted features our own lacked¡ªfeatures that proved useful when it unleashed a rain of thorns upon the monster-filled land below. The moment the thorns landed, they exploded, filling the air with the deafening roar reminiscent of modern battlefield explosions. In retaliation, the monsters launched their own counterattack. Lightning, fire breath, elemental bursts¡ªattacks of all kinds were unleashed upon the fortress which made for a difficult to miss target. Yet, none of the attack bore a dent onto the giant fortress. The gigantic fortress didn''t just focus on offense; it also excelled in defense. The Ferron Patriarch had manifested his Ancestral Tree around his fortress, effortlessly absorbing each attack through the barrier the sigil manifested as, reducing the chaotic onslaught to nothing more than an entrancing display of color. At least, it was entrancing to me. Judging by the tension in her shoulders, Aquaflora didn¡¯t share my fascination. Noticing my gaze, she asked, "What is it?" "You''re too tense," I said, giving her a pat on the back. "I''m reasonably tense. When else are we supposed to be tense but now? You''re the one who''s acting unnaturally relaxed. Are you not the slightest bit afraid?" I pretended to think for a moment before answering, "No, not particularly. I''ve been waiting for this for a while now, remember? So I''m more eager than anything." "Battlemonger," Aquaflora muttered, nudging me to the side. I laughed. "Me? You must have mistaken me for someone else. I''m a very peace-loving person." "Yeah, and I absolutely believe you," she replied dryly. I chuckled at her sarcasm, then, thinking about her words, declared, after prompt contemplation. "Once we''re done¡ªreally done with all of this¡ªI think I¡¯ll take a well-earned vacation." I glanced at Aquaflora. "Wanna go live a peaceful life in a little cabin on a green, flowery mountain in the middle of nowhere for a while?" She looked at me, her expression unreadable. "You''re serious, or are you teasing me again?" "Why would I be joking at a time like this?" "I..." "Just say yes, for god¡¯s sake," Goblin sighed from his spot along the balustrade. "Just say ''yes'' and spare all of us from your flirting." At his words, Honey, Bortz, and Blondie, who were standing nearby, quickly looked away, pretending not to have noticed anything. I chuckled at their reaction, about to say something¡ªwhen I noticed something in the horizon, past the flurry of attacks aimed at us, clashing against the forcefield. I let out a heavy sigh. "Seems like I¡¯ll have to wait for my answer." At these words, all five of them instantly realized what I meant. "You found him?" they asked in unison. "Yep," I nodded in confirmation. Then, glancing up at a higher balustrade, I saw that I wasn¡¯t the only one to notice. The elven monarch had seen him too. Understanding that it was about to begin, I looked at everyone and issued a final warning. "I doubt any of you forgot how this is going to go, but for my peace of mind, I¡¯ll remind you anyway. We sought the help of the elven monarch for a reason¡ªfor their strength. So make sure to abuse it. Do not fight like a maniac. Preserve your energy and focus on your safety. No reckless moves. I need you all alive by the end of this. Use this as an opportunity to harvest experience, but¡ª" "Do so in moderation," Goblin finished for me. I nodded, then looked at Aquaflora. "I''m going to need you in full form to acquire his ancest¡ª" "Don''t worry," Goblin chimed in. "Honey, Bortz, and I will keep your girlfriend safe and deliver her to you when you¡¯re done." "You¡ª" "I sure count on you all," I said, cutting him off. Then, slightly raising my dress, I smirked. "Now then, gentlemen, I think I have a patriarch to kill, so... I''ll see myself out." With that, I propelled myself up onto the Umbryan Patriarch¡¯s familiar, where the patriarch himself and the Aurian family matriarch were already waiting. Only the Ferron Patriarch remained behind, as he would be most useful staying on the fortress. The rest of us surged forward at full speed, leaving the protective cocoon that was the Ferron Patriarch ancestral tree. Noticing our movement, many of the creatures launched their attacks. The flying ones tried to crash into us, but the Umbryan Patriarch ignored them, having his summon barrel through with unstoppable speed and absolute toughness. It made one wonder just how powerful the Argyrian Patriarch had been to have slain such an unstoppable force. Swift and unstoppable, the three of us soon arrived within visual range of our target¡ªno visual enhancements needed. He stood there in the distance, atop a wyvern, waiting. ¡°That bastard,¡± the Umbryan Patriarch seethed, eyes locked onto the humanoid figure hovering above the ground alongside the flying monstrosities. Though his teeth were clenched and his fists tight with rage, his pride wounded and his desire to skin the Argyrian Patriarch palpable, he knew it wasn¡¯t his role to engage. Holding himself back, he turned to me with restrained fury and muttered, ¡°You better not mess this up. "That''s my line." I sneered. "I put myself in this position because my conditions were accepted. A second over the agreed time, and I withdraw, leaving you all handle him so¡ª" "You won¡¯t have to worry about that," the Matriarch interjected before promising, "No more than fifteen minutes." The Patriarch backed her words with a nod. "Since I have your word, see me ready," I declared, activating my [Mantle of Serenity], which instantly shifted me into battle-ready form¡ªmy hair shortened, my dress replaced by a sleek, full-body suit offering both high physical and magical resistance. At my words, the Umbryan Patriarch¡¯s summon thundered forward at his command, an ethereal juggernaut barreling straight toward the Argyrian Patriarch.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. It was then that notifications appeared in my vision, informing me of what was happening ahead: As if confirming what my [Identification] skill showed me, the Argyrian Patriarch, atop his monstrous mount and hovering midair, displayed an overwhelming aura. A deep hum of power reverberated across the heavens, sending tremors through the sky. Shimmering-blue lightning snaked through the clouds like living veins, fierce gusts howled with torrential force, and fiery motes whirled around the Patriarch¡¯s outstretched hand¡ªfusing into a single, cataclysmic sphere, which he unleashed at us. Simultaneously, the Aurian Matriarch stepped forward to counter the offensive. She invoked "Nature¡¯s Bulwark" and then the skill "Verdant Aegis," summoning swirling vines and brilliant emerald leaves that coalesced into a towering barrier of pure life force. The cataclysmic sphere slammed into this verdant shield, a thunderous roar tearing across the sky. Fire, lightning, and light splashed harmlessly away as the living vines siphoned off the heat. Lightning sank into thick clusters of magically reinforced bark, while the raging wind was split and funneled into swirling updrafts that dissipated into the open air. For a moment, the brilliant energies clashed, then subsided in a burst of shimmering motes. The barrier cracked but never broke, allowing us to continue our charge. Taking advantage of the Aurian Matriarch¡¯s proactive defensive maneuver, the Patriarch had time to come up counterattack. He had learned from what he told us was his first mistake when going against the Argyrian patriarch, namely his assumption that skills targeting linked creatures through summoning or bonding, his forte, would be effective against the monsters controlled by the Argyrian Patriarch. They simply weren¡¯t. Much to his complete confusion, such tactics failed outright, which was why this time he immediately opened with an ¡°offensive¡± approach. A wave of blazing spiritual energy erupted from the Monarch¡¯s outstretched hands, engulfing the Argyrian Patriarch and his enslaved monsters. While there was no flashy visual cue to its effect, I knew through [Identification] just how devastating the ability was. The Umbryan Patriarch was merciless, following up immediately with a relentless barrage of skill activations: In an instant, he summoned over a dozen shadowy creatures, formed from condensed anima and shrouded in spectral darkness. Each manifestation took the same sleek, eel-like form, gliding through the air with unnatural speed. They reached the Argyrian Patriarch and his beasts in an instant, their frenzy matching their form as they tore through the ranks of his monsters. Thanks to the previously cast ability, they met little resistance, cutting through effortlessly. Within moments, they had finished with the Patriarch¡¯s monsters¡ªincluding his mount¡ªand were closing in on him when he unleashed a scaled light-based attack, the perfect counter to such shadowy creatures. They were exterminated in an instant. That instant was all we needed to finally close the distance. As the Umbryan Patriarch¡¯s mount flew past the Argyrian Patriarch, I lashed out with one of my chains, catching him before he could resist. Without hesitation, I swung him forward, just as the Umbryan Patriarch brought his mount to a halt. "Off you go!" I declared, flinging him toward a distant mountain. He crashed heavily into its side, but that was nowhere near enough. Without letting go of the chain, I yanked him out of the crater, lifting him into midair where I met him with a powerful punch. I was tempted to enhance the blow with elemental energy, but I knew better¡ªmy opponent was a Monarch well-versed in elemental defenses. Any elemental damage would be mitigated. Instead, I relied on raw strength. The impact sent him reeling through the air, hundreds of meters away. Before he could steady himself with [Flight], simultaneous attacks from the Umbryan Patriarch and the Aurian Matriarch came barreling toward him. From the speed and distance, there was no avoiding it¡ªnot in terms of dodging. But he had another means of defense, other than skills and abilities. In an instant, he manifested his sigil. A silver ancestral tree materialized around him, initially covering only his form. But within moments, it expanded rapidly. The Lunith Tree¡ªthe sigil true name¡ªgrew bigger and bigger, inflating to encompass the entire battlefield. Within three seconds, it had harmlessly expanded past me, enveloping me and the surrounding space within its domain. However, the same could not be said for the Umbryan Patriarch and Aurian Matriarch. They were forcibly expelled, their attacks failing to pierce the tree¡¯s domain. It wasn¡¯t hard to understand what had happened. Ancestral trees possessed two main features: they could serve as perfect prisons or as perfect barriers. The Argyrian Patriarch had chosen the latter, ensuring he remained unharmed while shoving the two Monarchs into the distance. The reason I remained, not blasted into the distance like the two monarchs was obvious¡ªhe had chosen me as his opponent. Outside the Lunith Tree¡¯s barrier, the two Monarchs made no effort to break me out. Instead, they turned their backs and flew toward the ongoing battle against the monsters. It made sense. After all, that was the plan we had agreed upon. As it stood, there was no defeating the Argyrian Patriarch without first dealing with his army. That meant this battle had to be fought on two fronts. The first, led by the Monarchs and their forces¡ªincluding Goblin¡ªwas tasked with eradicating the monsters. The second front was mine alone. A duel against the Argyrian Patriarch. It might seem like a suicide mission¡ªmaybe it was. But the decision had been made. No point in complaining now. Summoning a spiritual sword, I stepped onto it and lifted myself up to the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s level, never breaking eye contact with him. The elf before me was both miserable and grotesque. The Argyrian Patriarch was draped in what had once been a flowing azure robe, now tattered and clinging to his skeletal form. His exposed chest was a pitiful sight¡ªhis flesh seemed to have melted into his bones, giving him an almost mummified appearance. But it was his face that anchored my gaze in horrified fascination. Much like how Goblin shifted forms, his face twisted and changed. Yet, unlike Goblin¡¯s seamless transformations, which felt as natural as blinking, the Patriarch¡¯s shifts were a silent, agonizing war. Every second, his features contorted as if they fought against themselves. One moment, he looked almost typically Argyrian¡ªhis features stretched unnaturally taut, like a canvas on the verge of tearing. The next, his face twisted into a nightmarish snarl, the skin rippling as though something alive squirmed beneath it. Flesh melted into bulbous, asymmetrical horrors, reshaping in grotesque, fleeting cycles. Each transformation burned itself into my mind like a brand. "Damn, Goblin and the others weren¡¯t exaggerating about how miserable they left you." I could almost feel the phantom echoes of pain it must have caused. The way his skin pulled, his bones realigned¡ªthe audible crackle of shifting cartilage¡ªit looked unbearable. But his eyes, cold and silver like moonlight on a blade, betrayed no pain. No discomfort. If anything, he seemed bored, detached from the torment his body endured. As I sized the Patriarch up, I caught movement in the distance behind me. Almost simultaneously, two massive ethereal trees manifested¡ªethereally black and ethereally golden, their presence announcing the official beginning of the war on that front. It was also my signal¡ªthe battle on this front should soon begin. "Tell me, Patriarch, do you still remember me?" I asked, my voice edged with challenge. "You don¡¯t look completely mindless, so I¡¯d be really offended if you¡¯ve forgotten about me. One hundred and thirty-seven years ago, you stole something from me¡ªsomething that wasn¡¯t even mine to begin with." Summoning spiritual swords around me, I let them hover in anticipation. "As much as it pained my pride, I let that go. But today, our paths cross again. Not only did you steal something that was Goblin¡¯s, but you also caused the deaths of two of his precious siblings." "They did you dirty in return. Gotta hand it to them¡ªthey did one hell of a job." I chuckled, shaking my head. "But unlucky for you, you¡¯ve got something we need. And the only way I¡¯m getting it¡­ is by killing you." My grin sharpened. "Which, as fate would have it, is perfect¡ªI''ve been aching to settle this grudge in blood and death. So let¡¯s end this." B2. Chapter 41: Argyrian Patriarch (1) I understood that the likely reason the elven monarchs agreed to let me take on this role and lay my claim on the most valuable loot there could be in defeating the Argyrian Patriarch was that, in part, they didn¡¯t truly believe I could deliver on my promises of holding him back the agreed time. But whether I succeeded or not, at least it wouldn¡¯t be them standing against the Argyrian Patriarch right off the bat. I knew I was the one who had suggested taking this position, and I did so precisely because I knew they would look down on me¡ªjust as they did. But barely a minute into the fight, I was already starting to question the feasibility of my own claims. Surfing my sword at full speed, I felt the warmth¡ªno, the scorching heat¡ªof a light beam attack streak past me. I barely managed to weave away, only to realize more were being casually shot in my direction by the Argyrian Patriarch. "Fuuuuuuuuuck!" I screamed, dodging for my dear life. I weaved through the air, desperately avoiding the onslaught. A fresh notification from my Identification skill flared in my mind just as another Solar Flare Ray blazed toward me. Without a second thought, I flipped upside down and dove, the rush of air pressing against me as I narrowly escaped its scorching path. The Argyrian Patriarch, like the madman he was, unleashed attack after attack with no regard for precision. Madness or not, it made sense; as a monarch, he had monsters as his subjects, creatures he could seamlessly harness energy from. MP, HP, SP¡ªnone of it was a concern for him, so why bother. As I leveled out from my dive, I sensed the next threat honing in on me¡ª[Stormhound Bolts]. Unlike [Solar Flare Ray], which smote in a straight path, [Stormhound Bolts] lived up to their name. They hounded me like relentless predators with me as their prey. I jerked left, then right, zigzagging through the air with sharp, snaking twists. Each sudden turn was more abrupt than the last¡ªI needed to throw off what was essentially a guided missile snapping at my heels. I wasn¡¯t just dodging; I was leading them on a chase, hoping they couldn¡¯t keep up. The moment I sensed a brief lull in the Patriarch¡¯s assault, I seized my chance. I swooped low, dropping altitude fast to duck under another Solar Flare Ray. The maneuver brought me dangerously close to the Patriarch¡ªexactly where I needed to be. I was below and behind him now, his blind spot. I rolled midair, both for the sheer thrill of it and to throw off any more incoming bolts. My surroundings blurred into streaks of color as I spun, keeping my movements erratic and unpredictable. Just as I steadied myself, another Ray cut through the space I had occupied seconds before. Seeing an opening as the Argyrian Patriarch recalibrated his next attack, I pulled my spiritual sword up sharply, practically standing vertical in the air. With all my strength, I hurled my sword at him. The impact stalled my momentum, but the blade still found its mark. The Stormhound Bolts slammed into my sword, weakening its strength, yet it still hit the Patriarch hard enough to send him flying backward. He spiraled upward, his once-controlled posture breaking into a chaotic tumble. I didn¡¯t wait for him to recover. With a flick of my wrist, my chains manifested¡ªglowing, ethereal, alive. They lashed out with a crack, wrapping around his twisting form. I yanked hard, flipping him midair and reversing our positions. Up here, the air felt cooler, or maybe that was just the high of not being on the receiving end of violence. My feet connected with his back in a bone-rattling impact, driving him downward like a missile. Even as he plummeted, I summoned spiritual swords, their ghostly forms shimmering into existence, their points aimed at him. With a thought, I hurled them after him. Each blade struck true, accelerating his descent. The air roared with their passage, the ground rushing up to meet him with terrifying speed. I wasn¡¯t finished. ¡°Judgment of the Firmament: Arctic Oblivion!¡± I roared, feeling the surge of power as the hybrid-spell answered my call. The sky above shimmered, parting as a colossal lance¡ªthe height of a millennia-old tree¡ªdescended like divine retribution. It crashed into him with a thunderous impact, shaking the earth as shards of frost erupted in every direction. The explosion that followed was deafening, engulfing everything in a swirling storm of ice and mist. I hovered above, watching as the chaos settled, my breath steady despite the strain. As the mist dissipated, a mountain of jagged ice loomed where he had been, glittering cold and final in the pale light. Hovering above, I held a count in my mind¡ªa second one, apart from the one I had been keeping since the start of this battle. I had only reached ten before a notification flashed before my eyes, a warning as much as an update. Not even a second had passed since the notification, and barely twelve seconds had gone by since he was trapped in the ice when I felt it¡ªa shift in the air. Subtle at first, like the world itself was holding its breath. Then came the heat. It climbed rapidly, a suffocating wave pressing against my skin, making the air shimmer. Three seconds later, the inevitable happened. The ice prison I had crafted, towering and absolute, began to steam. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, glowing an ominous red from within. The heat intensified to an absurd degree¡ªit felt like I was standing in the heart of a forge. And then, just like that, it happened. The entire mountain of ice erupted like a volcano. Shards and mist blasted outward with the force of a violent storm. Molten water turned to scalding vapor in an instant, filling the air with a roar that drowned out everything else. Instinctively, I summoned my chains again, spinning them into a shield to block the superheated debris hurtling in all directions. Through the blinding mist and steam, I saw him¡ªor rather, I felt him. His aura surged, wild and untamed, a monstrous force that seemed to warp the very space around him. Flames licked at his figure, spiraling in unnatural patterns, the air shimmering with unbearable heat. He rose from the shattered remnants of my attack, no different than he was at the beginning of the fight. Practically unharmed despite the ¡°nuke¡± I had just dropped on him. His expression was a mix of madness and fury, and the ice that had once held him captive was now a bubbling crater beneath his feet. Steam hissed and swirled around him as if bowing to his power. I understood. The moment I made that offer, I knew exactly what I was guaranteeing the elven monarchs¡ªand they undoubtedly understood it as well. It was clear they were pessimistic about my ability to deliver the results I promised¡ªor perhaps "optimistic" would be more accurate. I could see these greedy bastards actually being delighted if I failed. My demise would be a boon for them; it would mean they got to split everything I had worked so hard to secure. In a sense, they had set me up¡ªbut without actually lifting a finger. All they had to do was nod and agree to my suggestion. Despite their obvious bad faith, the truth remained: this was my idea. I had set this up myself. But I didn¡¯t propose this with the intent to die. My plan was to win this front. That said, "winning" for me didn¡¯t mean defeating the Argyrian Patriarch alone. I knew I couldn¡¯t beat him. We all knew that. No, my job here was to hold the line long enough for the others to exterminate his monsters. They estimated it would take no more than fifteen minutes at worst. Fifteen minutes¡ªjust a quarter of an hour of survival. That was all I needed to manage. But barely two minutes into the fight, I was already starting to feel like I had committed the same mistake as the Umbryan Patriarch¡ªunderestimating the Argyrian Patriarch. Not to the same extent, of course. While prideful, I wasn¡¯t pridefully blind like him. I knew I¡¯d be at a severe disadvantage against someone like the Argyrian. Let me explain. The Argyrian Patriarch is an elven monarch who commands control over the majority of elemental sub-affinities. For someone like me, who relies heavily on elemental attacks, he is my absolute nemesis. His resistance to elemental damage is absurd, mitigating almost all my efforts. And while I have my hexes and curses to fall back on¡ªafter all, I am a Hexcaster¡ªthey¡¯re just as inefficient against him. Not that they were as easily mitigated as my elemental attacks, but even if I cast a curse to sap his stats¡ªwhether it was HP, MP, or SP¡ªit wouldn¡¯t matter. The bastard would recover from the paltry damage before it even started to take effect. That meant I was left with less than half my arsenal as a Hexcaster. That left me with my skills and abilities as a Weaponry Ascetic. Ironically, it¡¯s the class I least identified with, yet it was the one I would have to rely on the most. So how, knowing all these disadvantages, did I still make the same mistake as the Umbryan Patriarch? The answer was simple: I was overconfident. Despite my awareness of his strengths, I believed I could hold out for those fifteen minutes. Not effortlessly, but just enough to fulfill the policy I made Goblin and the others comply with.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. I thought it would be difficult but manageable¡ªenough to let me conserve my strength for the bigger fight ahead. But now, I realized how naive that assumption was. Holding him out wouldn¡¯t just be a matter of skill or cunning. It would take everything I had¡ªand then some. As the Argyrian Patriarch stood on the ground, glaring murderously up at me, his body contorted grotesquely as he invoked a skill that would have made Goblin seethe with rage. This skill was Goblin¡¯s signature move, but the Patriarch¡¯s version was far more horrific. Unlike Goblin, who could gently summon and dismiss his bonded creatures, the Patriarch''s use of the skill caused his belly to swell grotesquely before bursting open. From the gaping wound, serpentine monstrosities emerged¡ªflesh-and-blood counterparts of the shadow creatures previously summoned by the Umbryan Patriarch. At least half a dozen of these slithering beasts lunged into the air, rapidly closing the distance between us. I remembered how formidable these creatures were. They weren¡¯t just fast¡ªthey were relentless, spitting beams as they pursued me through the sky. Despite focusing on evading their attacks, my gaze never left the Argyrian Patriarch. He was summoning something even more unsettling. "What the hell¡ª" I began, but the heat from one of my pursuer¡¯s beam attacks forced me to cut myself off. Annoyance flickered across my face before shifting into a sharp grin. I activated two of my Hexcaster abilities. Accelerating suddenly, I put some distance between myself and the pursuing creatures before turning to unleash my [Perfected Evil Eyes]. This enhanced version of the Eye of Perdition skill heavily slowed my targets. As they faltered, I unleashed a hail of spiritual weapons that detonated against their grotesque forms. Meanwhile, behind me, something enormous was taking shape¡ª"Thazaruul, the Rotten Beholder." This monstrous, eldritch entity exuded an overwhelming, grotesque menace. Its deformed body was a pulsating mass of flesh, riddled with clusters of bloodshot eyes that twitched erratically. At its center was an enormous, unblinking eye, just below which a massive, decadently toothed maw yawned open as if ready to devour the world. A gift from my Eldritch Monstrosity title, Thazaruul served three functions: as a "medium," an "enhancer," and a "conduit." As a medium, Thazaruul allowed me to channel my curses through its many eyes, striking enemies within its field of vision without requiring direct line-of-sight. As an enhancer, it amplified the potency of my hexes. What would have been minor misfortunes became devastating calamities, increasing my spells'' range, duration, and their ability to pierce magical defenses. As a conduit, Thazaruul extended the reach of curses that traditionally required physical touch or proximity. Through it, I could bypass protective wards and deliver my hexes as if standing right beside my enemies. I needed its capabilities now more than ever. Unleashing a vicious hail of exploding projectiles, I quickly overwhelmed the creatures. I had led them on a chase not out of fear, but to buy time. However, the sight of what the Patriarch was conjuring made it clear that prolonging this engagement was a mistake. Facing him alone was daunting enough, but allowing his abomination to take full form was an absolute no-go. Realizing that conserving energy for the main fight against the Patriarch was no longer the wise choice it once seemed, I decided to unleash my full strength on his minions. Activating [Fate Reversal] just before defeating them¡ªcausing them to vanish like dungeon-spawned creatures, leaving no corpses¡ªmy MP and SP surged upward. It wasn¡¯t a perfect trade-off, but it was the best I could manage. The energy I spent to take them down wasn¡¯t fully recovered, but I at least undid 25% of the total cost. Still a hefty price paid, but that was still better than nothing¡ªespecially since, unlike the monarchs, I lacked a Sigil to effortlessly replenish my reserves." Speaking of monarchs¡­ With the creatures dealt with, my attention snapped back to the Argyrian Patriarch. He had not been idle. He had used a skill that would have greatly annoyed Goblin¡ªone that allowed him to manifest traits from his bonded creatures. But unlike Goblin, who adopted two or three traits at a time, the Patriarch manipulated the skill into something far more grotesque. He fused traits from multiple creatures, forging a nightmarish chimeric monstrosity. The result was a being that should never have existed. A blasphemous fusion of creatures that had no right to be melded together. Towering over its creator, its hulking, muscular frame radiated raw power, each limb pulsating with veins that glowed faintly with unholy energy. Its central head, a wolf-like visage, snarled with unrelenting fury. Its eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, their glow betraying a predatory intellect far beyond that of any beast. To the left, a draconic head loomed, its scaled neck twisting with serpentine grace. Flames and smoke billowed from its maw as if the very act of breathing kindled the fires of destruction within. To the right, a serpent''s head hissed, its forked tongue flickering menacingly, dripping venom that sizzled upon contact with the ground. As if that weren¡¯t enough, other heads emerged from its grotesque form¡ªless distinct but no less horrifying. There was a sample of everything: horned demons, avian predators, and reptilian horrors vying for dominance within the single entity. The crimson gem embedded in its chest pulsed like a second heart, radiating an aura of malevolence that pressed down on the air like a suffocating fog. Around it, the very environment twisted¡ªlightning arced across the stormy sky, and the ground beneath its claws fractured as if repelling its presence. Then, the Patriarch did something¡ªsomething that altered the very nature of the barrier surrounding us. I felt the shift instantly, an unspoken restriction locking into place. If I had to guess, he had ensured that I couldn¡¯t escape the battlefield. The reason became painfully obvious. Striding over its creator, the beast¡¯s heads reared back in unison¡ªa rare moment of unnatural synchronization from the chaos it embodied. The draconic maw inhaled deeply, the air around it twisting into a vortex of flame and ash. The wolf¡¯s snarling jaws crackled with raw energy, arcs of lightning dancing between its teeth as it prepared to unleash its fury. The serpent¡¯s head coiled slightly, venom pooling in its mouth, its acidic fumes burning the air even before release. Other grotesque heads joined the charge, their throats glowing with ethereal light, signaling the doom to come. Then, all at once, the chimera unleashed its combined wrath. A torrent of flames shot from the draconic head, so intense it didn¡¯t burn¡ªit disintegrated. The mountains in its path weren¡¯t scorched but obliterated, reduced to glowing embers swept away by the sheer force of the attack. The wolf¡¯s head followed with a crackling blast of lightning that split the sky in two, striking the earth with such ferocity that entire valleys crumbled into bottomless chasms. The serpent head lashed forward, spewing a torrent of venom that hissed as it melted through anything it touched, carving rivers of destruction through the land. But it didn¡¯t end there. Each head added its own twisted element to the assault. A putrid green mist spewed from one, dissolving clouds and scattering them like frightened prey. Another loosed an otherworldly howl, its soundwaves tearing apart the heavens, ripping through trees, rock, and even the air itself. The chimera chest glowed and pulsed violently, fueling the attacks with a chaotic energy that made each strike more devastating than the last. Yet, for all its fury and chaos, the barrage seemed almost¡­coordinated in its onslaught, leaving me little to no room to dodge inside the erected domain. Each head aimed differently¡ªone¡¯s fire incinerating distant peaks, another¡¯s lightning obliterating the plains, while venom scorched a forest to the east. It was as though the chimera couldn¡¯t decide what to destroy first, so it chose everything. The sky darkened, the ground quaked, and the horizon itself seemed to buckle under the assault, until the world around the beast was reduced to a shattered wasteland, scarred and broken like a canvas of pure ruin. For half a minute, the attack poured without losing strength, beams of destruction filling the area. I darted through the onslaught with rapid maneuvers, the wind howling past me as I twisted and flipped to avoid the lethal chaos. And yet, despite my speed, one of the chimera¡¯s beams grazed me¡ªa searing line of energy that caught my side and sent me tumbling through the air. ¡°Fuck,¡± I rasped, managing to stabilize myself midair, somehow avoiding being outright obliterated by another beam. My vision swam, the edges of the world blurring as I caught sight of my left arm¡ªor rather, the bloody stump where it had been. A modicum of pain seeped through my Pain Immunity skill, the sensation dulled yet enough to bring a sense of extreme urgency. Perhaps it was my time as a Hexcaster, but seeing such an injury inflicted upon me sent a clear message: I had to act fast. I looked toward the Patriarch. He was no longer below his monstrous creation but now perched atop its back. With a dismissive wave, he gave his command, and the chimera responded instantly. Unfolding multiple pairs of wings¡ªpatchworks of scaled leather, feathers, and membranous horrors¡ªit prepared to take to the skies. With a single, massive flap, the creature rose, leveling itself to my height. "Six minutes and twenty seconds," I mused, my gaze locked onto the Argyrian Patriarch. "So, what are you going to do again?" My question was answered by a series of notifications from my identification skill and a shift in the monstrous creature¡¯s stance, signaling another impending onslaught. My jaw tightened as I braced myself. Large scorching fireballs were unleashed , but none came from the many heads of the chimera. Instead, they came from Veilleuse-19, who flew through the barrier unimpeded, as in that moment, the ancestral tree served more as a prison than a protective shield, so anything from outside could walk right through. The massive red wyvern blasted explosive red fireballs at the monstrous creacture. The relentless bombardment threw the chimera off balance, and just as it staggered, Veilleuse-19 dove, slamming into it with earth-shaking force. The monstrosity tumbled toward the ground, but before impact, Veilleuse-19 flapped her wings and soared back into the sky. At the sight, my first thought was how terrible an idea this was. There was a reason I hadn''t brought Veilleuse-19 here¡ªthis battle was far too dangerous for her. But there was no point dwelling on it now. She was here, trapped in this battlefield alongside me. There was no undoing it. And so, rather than waste time worrying, I chose to embrace it. With a broad grin, I shot forward, leaping from my flying sword to take my rightful place on Veilleuse-19¡¯s back. "Despite everything, I¡¯m glad to see you here," I declared to my trusty steed. Veilleuse-19 responded with a screech. Unlike Goblin and Bortz, I had no skill to translate her thoughts, but I understood the meaning behind it well enough. With a quick turn, she faced the Argyrian Patriarch and his abomination. From below, one of the chimera¡¯s heads unleashed an attack upon us. Veilleuse-19 swerved sharply to the left, dodging the ray while simultaneously adjusting her size. If she had remained at her full mountain-like form, we would have been an easy target for this and the many attacks that followed. Instead, she shrank to the length of a low-tier wyvern, her massive form compacting into something far more maneuverable. Glancing at my stump, I allowed my recovering skills and abilities to work. Golden threads of energy wove from the wound, knitting flesh and bone back together. In less than five seconds, my arm was whole again. The fabric of my battle outfit stretched and mended itself as though the damage had never happened. I flexed my fingers experimentally, wincing slightly as residual pain shot through my nerves. After a few more flexes, everything was back to normal. My gaze snapped back to the Patriarch and his monstrosity. At that moment, I made my final decision. "Screw the idea of waging this fight while conserving energy. I''m recovering whatever I lose with the experience points I''m going to harvest by killing him." Chapter 42: Argyrian Patriarch (2) There¡¯s more than one way to acquire an ancestral tree. The first is by producing one yourself¡ªinvesting affinity points into a subaffinity until it reaches the required threshold and manifests as a sigil of power. The second way is having someone else produce it for you. In this case, two distinct scenarios arise: in the first, you obtain only the ancestral tree itself and nothing else. In the second scenario, you acquire the ancestral tree and along with all the skills and abilities tied to the involved subaffinity cultivated by its original wielder. Needless to say, the latter is the preferred outcome for any elven monarch. It provides an immediate boost in power, granting not just the ancestral tree but the fruits of years¡ªor centuries¡ªof labor. In contrast, inheriting only the tree means acquiring the relevant skills and abilities independently, a process that, while easier with the tree in one''s possession, still demands considerable time and effort. This is why elven monarchs strive for the second method, though circumstances sometimes force them to settle for less. This naturally raises the question: under what circumstances can one obtain only the ancestral tree without the accompanying skills and abilities? The answer is simple: it depends on the original wielder''s decision. The ancestral tree''s original possessor has the final say on whether their skills and abilities will be transferred along with the tree. For example, when an elven monarch personally grooms someone to manifest an ancestral tree¡ªsuch as the Argyrian patriarch did with Aquaflora¡ªthey typically relinquish not only the tree but also the skills and abilities they cultivated within that subaffinity. This partially cripples the original wielder, preventing them from reinvesting in that subaffinity again. However, when an ancestral tree is acquired from an outsider, as was the case with Goblin and the Argyrian patriarch, the situation becomes more complex. Pride often plays a significant role. Many ancestral tree wielders would rather die than surrender the fruits of their labor so easily. In such cases, their death results in the monarch gaining only the ancestral tree, while all the skills and abilities tied to it perish with the original wielder. Knowing Goblin''s pride, especially regarding his innate blood-related skills and abilities, I have no doubt he would have chosen death over surrendering them to the Argyrian patriarch under normal circumstances. Yet, circumstances forced us to make the difficult choice of surrendering his Blood elemental ancestral tree¡ªalong with all the skills and abilities tied to it¡ªto the patriarch. It was a humiliating ordeal, one I doubt Goblin will ever forget. However, the second time he was compelled to surrender an ancestral tree to the Argyrian patriarch, he only needed to relinquish the tree itself, allowing him to retain his innate assimilation-related skills and abilities. *** Wind Elemental Arcana Lvl.6 -> Wind Elemental Arcana Lvl.7 The wind rushed past me violently, threatening to blow me back if not for the chain securing me to Veilleuse-19, who was flying at subsonic speeds beneath me. But the wind wasn¡¯t the only thing surging around us¡ªelemental attacks rained down as well, unleashed by the gigantic monstrosity giving us chase. I glanced back, urging Veilleuse-19, "They''re closing in on us, we''re---" Before I could finish, Veilleuse-19 leaped into action, activating a skill that created a steam current ahead of her path. The accelerated air reduced drag and turbulence, allowing her to move at blinding speeds while maintaining precise control. "Well done, girl. Let me handle what''s behind us," I declared, turning to face the monstrosity. It was as if my words irritated both the Argyrian patriarch and his chimeric creature, for in that moment the creature responded by unleashing beams of energy from its many heads. Once we had put a safe distance between us, I discarded the barrier that had shielded us and summoned my trusted Cursed Frost Weaponry. Hundreds of lances materialized in the air around me, but I didn¡¯t stop there. I invoked the Judgment of the Firmament, channeling its power into my weapons, before unleashing them. Despite the distance Veilleuse-19 had created between us and our pursuers, none of my lances missed their mark. Each embedded itself deep into the monstrosity¡¯s flesh, eliciting agonized screams from several of its heads. Yet the creature continued its pursuit, undeterred by the damage. Summoning a large magic circle infused with Ice Elemental Arcana and Wind Elemental Arcana¡ªthe evolved forms of Ice Magic and Wind Magic¡ªI harnessed their combined power. The evolved magic circles allowed for more refined customization and greater magical effects, and I put that versatility to use now. Fueling the dual-element circle with my MP, a frosty mist began swirling around the glowing magic circle. The hum of gathering magic grew louder as icy shards spiraled into existence, intertwining like frost-laden steel. The projectile took shape¡ªa massive drill of ice, its edges gleaming razor-sharp. With my conjured winds, it spun violently, generating a whirlwind that pulled in surrounding air. Faster and faster it rotated, the whirling winds sharpening its edges to a lethal blur. "Eat this!" I shouted as I unleashed it. The magic circle pulsed with light as the projectile rocketed forward, trailing freezing winds and glittering frost. The spinning drill tore through the atmosphere, screaming toward the monstrosity¡¯s primary head. With a target that massive, there was no dodging it. The collision was instantaneous. For a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze. Then, with an earsplitting crack, the beast¡¯s skull shattered like fragile glass. The drill didn¡¯t stop there. It plowed through the creature¡¯s neck and chest, carving a jagged hole through its enormous body. Blood, scales, and frozen flesh erupted in all directions, painting the air in a gruesome mosaic. Still, the monstrosity refused to fall. Though heavily wounded, it did not succumb. Instead, its remaining heads took control, continuing the pursuit¡ªalbeit more clumsily, its speed faltering. This allowed us to widen the gap and gave me a clear view of the Argyrian Patriarch springing into action. The monstrosity¡¯s body convulsed midair, grotesque ripples distorting its mutilated form. Its ruined neck snapped backward with a sickening crunch as new growth erupted from the severed stump. First, from the missing head, a monstrous avian head burst forth, its beak sharp and hooked, a crown of jagged feathers framing glowing, predatory eyes. It wasn''t over yet. Not even half a dozen seconds later, a second head followed¡ªreptilian, resembling a draconic beast, but with smooth, hornless ridges running down its elongated snout, making it look like a kind of scaleless lizard. The creature¡¯s body writhed as these new heads twisted and roared to life. Muscles knitted grotesquely around their bases, accompanied by wet, squelching sounds, while the gaping wound along its torso reformed in uneven, jagged patches. The process was nauseating and painful to behold and mostly painful to undergo, for the chimera seemed in agony through the whole process. In that moment, its massive wings beat chaotically at first as the new heads struggled to synchronize with the others¡ªsomething they accomplished with disconcerting speed. Luckily for us, even though they gained momentum, we had already widened the gap between us, so I thought we were partially at a safe distance from the creature. It was then that it did it. The avian head let out a shriek that pierced the heavens, activating the same skill Veilleuse-19 used, creating a streamlined vortex ahead of it, increasing its speed by at least fourfold. This meant that Veilleuse-19''s level 10 Aether Slipstream, which tripled her already impressive speed, was now outmatched. So I understood that we would be soon caught up with if we didn¡¯t get moving. And so, I must say there was something deeply unsettling about watching a monstrosity of that size closing in at supersonic speed. Still holding the countdown I had been keeping since the beginning of the fight, I glanced past the barrier established by the Argyrian Patriarch, where the other patriarchs sigil were manifested in the distance. Though muffled by their respective ancestral tree, I could still sense the battlefield''s chaotic roar. I wanted to curse them for taking their sweet time against small fries when I was stuck here with the patriarch and his chimeric abomination, but I had no energy to waste on complaints. I needed a plan, so I quickly came up with one. "Let''s make an ascent," I suggested to Veilleuse-19. She responded immediately, making a sharp climb into the sky. The sudden maneuver forced the much heavier monstrosity to adjust clumsily, struggling to keep up. Veilleuse-19 tilted just enough to give me a perfect visual of my target. I unleashed [Lunar Cataclysm]. Eight identical blue moons, each the size of a mansion, streaked toward the Argyrian Patriarch. In a swift reaction that belied his madness, he promptly unleashed missile-like elemental attacks that intercepted several of them. More than half were neutralized, but that was of no concern. As long as at least one remained, the destructive potential of the others would be absorbed into it. And so, upon reaching its target, the two final moons detonated, unleashing a ripple of utter destruction. I winced¡ªnot because of the sheer force of the attack, but because my Identification skill gave me an unsettling insight. Just before impact, the patriarch had activated a barrier, allowing his creature to emerge from the frozen mist unscathed, barely slowing its pace. "Arrrgh!" I seethed in frustration, summoning giant spiritual swords and hurtling them down to intercept the incoming barrage of attacks. Boom! My swords met the elements. Boom! The elements met my spiritual swords. Boom! The elements slipping through my barrage met my erected barrier. Veilleuse-19 and I managed to slow them down, but the gap between them and us was closing, and the patriarch himself was stepping forward. I was about to give new instructions to Veilleuse-19 when I saw it¡ªthe Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s gaze flickered beyond the prison he had created to contain me, toward the same battlefield I had been glancing at throughout this fight.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°It was about time,¡± I exhaled a sigh of relief. ¡°Finally making progress. It seems the front waged on the other side was advancing in our favour, and considerably so that it drew the patriarch¡¯s attention. My relief was short-lived, as almost immediately I had come to a certain realization. If the patriarch had deemed the other battle more pressing, he might abandon this front entirely to intervene there. I could not allow that. I need to lock his attention on me. With newfound resolve, I activated [Hydroclasm], instantly summoning an enormous deluge that crashed onto the patriarch and his beast. Without wasting a breath, I followed up with [Judgment of the Firmament], a single but massive lance infused with Ice elemental force. The moment it was unleashed, I triggered [Arctic Oblivion], turning all the summoned water into an enormous block of ice that plummeted like a meteor. The frozen mass crashed violently, sending shockwaves that shook the heavens and the earth alike, engulfing the battlefield in mist, dust, and raining shards of ice. For a moment, Veilleuse-19 and I hovered above the chaos below, watching for any sign of movement from the Argyrian Patriarch. I highly doubted that that attack would keep him down long. Then, a notification from my Identification skill confirmed my suspicions. A blinding beam of energy streaked through the mist, splitting the sky as it hurtled toward us. Quick on her reflexes, Veilleuse-19 twisted midair, narrowly evading the heaven-splitting attack. As she stabilized herself, I saw it¡ª The monstrosity flapped its massive wings heavily and, with renewed purpose, launched itself toward us once more. "Tsk, what was I expecting exact¡ª" I muttered before coming to a sudden halt at the sight of the Argyrian Patriarch, looking more deranged than ever as he uttered in rage the words: [COME DOWN HERE!] There was something about those words¡ªsomething beyond mere sound. Despite the distance, I heard them as if whispered directly into my ears. The command carried an otherworldly weight, compelling me to obey. The effect was like that of a skill or ability, yet, it wasn¡¯t a¡ªmy [Identification] would have picked it up if it were. No, there was only one explanation: "Rule and Overrule"¡ªthe authority that allowed the Patriarch to control the monsters of the stampede. While I felt the insidious pull to comply, I managed to resist. Veilleuse-19, however, was not so fortunate. Unable to suppress the compulsion, she began a rapid descent¡ªstraight toward the ascending monstrosity. "No, no, no. Don''t... don''t... don''t," I shouted, desperation clawing at my voice. But I didn¡¯t stop at words. Through my [Chain of Permanence], I cast [Blood Oath] on her. It wasn¡¯t the kind of ability one would typically think to use against a mental attack, but the stat-sharing sub-ability of [Blood Oath] might help. And it did. Veilleuse-19 snapped back to her senses¡ªbut by then, it was too late. The monstrosity was upon us, its many jaws wide open, ready to devour us in a singular large bite. Veilleuse-19 understood the danger immediately. In an instant, she instinctively returned to her true size, matching the monstrous entity¡¯s scale, accepting the battle for what it had become¡ªa brutal clash between behemoths. The two behemoths met midair, colliding like mountains thrust upon one another. Through teeth and claws they twist around each other in a vicious and inescapable spiraling dance. The now massive Veilleuse-19 sank her fangs deep into the avian head¡¯s throat, incapacitating it by pulling with all her might¡ªthe intent was clear, ripping the head from the body. She was on the right path, her hold was solid. So solid, in fact, that the sound of flesh being torn could be heard amidst the head screams of agony¡ªbut there was a problem: the creature had more than heads. Several others clamped down on her left wing, while its clawed limbs¡ªfour in total¡ªfound purchase against Veilleuse-19¡¯s chest, tearing into her scales. She fought back, clawing in return, but the pain in her screeches told me what I already knew. She was at a disadvantage. Wasting no time, I leapt into action. But I wasn¡¯t the only one¡ªthe Argyrian Patriarch moved as well, launching a barrage of elemental attacks at me. Left with no choice, I summoned a shield to protect both myself and Veilleuse-19. That moment of defense cost me dearly. The monstrosity ripped Veilleuse-19¡¯s right wing from her body. Her agonized screech tore through the sky. She had just managed to tear apart the head she had gotten a hold of, but in her pain, she lost her grip, leaving the head dangling, as she tried to initiate a retreat, but the creature¡¯s claws latched onto her again, eliciting more desperate screech from Veilleuse-19. And in that moment, Goblin¡¯s words came rushing back¡ªthe way he scolded me for never giving the red wyvern a true name. I see it now. I regret it. "Forgive me," I whispered to my loyal companion. Then, I activated an ability I had refrained myself from using¡ª[Yin Manifestation]¡ªdue to the ridiculous price there was to activate it. A spectral copy of myself emerged, ethereal yet tangible, a version of me stripped of all my non-ice-related abilities. No hexes. No curses. No Ascetic Monk techniques. Just ice elemental skills and abilities. The clone dove into battle to aid Veilleuse-19, while I turned my attention to the Patriarch. Throwing myself at him, I wrapped him in my chains and hurled him skyward, throwing him far above the battlefield. A few seconds later, below, the sounds of Veilleuse-19 and the monstrosity crashing into the ground sent tremors through the air. I didn¡¯t look down, I just let rage fuel my next move¡ªI punched the Patriarch midair, sending him flying even further. But before he could disappear into the sky, I yanked him back with my chains. Just as I dragged him back toward me, my Identification skill flared with a warning. Less than a second later, a devastating explosion of electrical energy erupted from the Patriarch¡¯s body. Bolts of crackling lightning spiraled outward in every direction. Like a celestial eruption, they tore through the air, striking anything in their path. Upon impact, they exploded in violent chain reactions, unleashing destruction on an unprecedented scale. Having failed to react in time, I was blasted back, losing a significant portion of my left side along with the chain connecting to my left arm. I winced¡ªnot because of the wound or the pain, those were manageable¡ªbut because of the massive dent the attack left on my HP. That had to be his strongest attack, I realized. I didn¡¯t linger on that realization for long. He didn¡¯t give me the time. From the corner of my vision, I saw him take flight and use Assimilation once more, ¡°birthing¡± a horde of monsters and unleashing them upon me in a relentless assault. "Just how many of these fuckers did you assimilate? What the hell?!" Tthe concern that had plagued me earlier returned in force. How many more creatures did he still have in store? What if the numbers were so absurd that the battle the other patriarchs were fighting was ultimately meaningless? The thought made me anxious, but I shoved it aside¡ªthere were more pressing matters to handle. While lowering my MP in exchange for HP through all my healing skills and abilities, I summoned half a hundred spiritual swords, lances, and axes, taking them into a deadly midair dance to counter the flurry of creatures. With swift, graceful movements, I handled them well¡ªat least until I noticed him coming up with something new. I couldn''t identify it with my Identification skill, and I quickly¡ªabruptly¡ªfigured out why. A sickly green wave rippled outward from him, catching me in an instant. It pushed me, but not like a typical shockwave. The force was blunt, uniform. Aside from the initial impact, it didn¡¯t cause pain¡ªit simply drove me backward. And then I felt it¡ªanother force of equal strength pressing against me from behind. At that moment, I understood. The bastard had sandwiched me between two ancestral trees. One was the prison he had established to contain me, the other a newly manifested barrier that forced me against the first. Let it be said that I could even tell which ancestral tree he had summoned¡ªit was Goblin¡¯s. The very same tree that had driven him into madness. I tried to break free, pushing against the ancestral tree that acted as a barrier, but it was absurdly sturdy¡ªtoo sturdy for a single ancestral tree. The sturdiness of an ancestral tree, which determines its function as either a prison or a barrier, relies on two parameters: the number of Ancestral Tree comprising it and the amount of energy being supplied to it. Here, this ancestral tree was made up of only one ancestral tree¡ªone formed from a single nature subaffinity¡ªGoblin¡¯s. That meant its durability came solely from the sheer amount of energy the Argyrian Patriarch supplied it with. "This is ridiculous," I complained, failing to break the barrier even with [Judgement of the Firmament]. The narrow space in which I was trapped left no room to wield my spiritual weapons effectively. And since this barrier wasn''t acting as a prison from within, my attacks wouldn¡¯t damage it at all, they would just pass right through. Similarly, the prison behind me wasn¡¯t something I could interact with, let alone summon anything beyond its boundaries. In other words, I was completely stuck, and while I was the Patriarch was closing in fast. His intent was clear¡ªvery clear from the barrage of skill notifications flashing in a corner of my vision. He was determined to end this here and now. And he would have had it not been for ¡°it¡±. Just as he was about to unleash his attack, something happened. Like a dog hearing the sound of a meal bell, his full attention suddenly snapped away to somewhere beyond the domain he had established with his ancestral trees. His gaze locked onto something in the distance. But there was nothing there. Or at least, nothing that I could see. Wasting none of that fortunate timing, I activated [Lunar Cataclysm] multiple times, flooding the confined space I was trapped in with dozens of mini moons¡ªjust as destructive as the larger ones. Then, all at once, I detonated them. No matter how deep his energy reserves ran to sustain his ancestral tree, I knew there was a limit to how much damage a single sigil could endure. The sheer force of the simultaneous explosions shattered the barrier, unleashing the trapped energy upon him with nowhere else to escape¡ªthanks to the very prison he had created. Taking the full brunt of the explosion at practically point-blank range, the Argyrian Patriarch was blasted into the distance, finally giving me a moment to catch my breath. I healed my new wounds, fully regenerated my left arm, the fabric of my battle suit swiftly covering it once more. As my HP recovered to a reasonable amount, I looked ahead, spotting the Patriarch in the distance¡ªa terrible sight to behold. Elemental resistance or not, he had not been spared by that attack. Bloodied, with crimson seeping from every wound, his bones were exposed, his flesh ravaged by the explosion. He was missing both arms and a leg. Standing¡ªno, levitating¡ªbarely, with his remaining limb dangling pitifully by strands of flesh. At the sight of him, I felt no desire to continue this battle¡ªnot out of pity, far from it, but because I had lost track of time somewhere during the fight. I was certain I had already surpassed the agreed time limit. However, as he began to heal himself, I prepared to push through overtime. It didn¡¯t seem like Goblin and the others were finished with their front yet. I surged toward him. And then, just as I did¡ªit happened again. [STAND BACK.] ¡°You¡­¡± He tried using his authority once more. I painfully felt the attempt. ¡°...piece of shit!¡± I was able to resist the order, but doing so brought me to a halt. The Argyrian Patriarch didn¡¯t stop there. This time, instead of shrinking his barrier around me, he did the opposite. The silver barrier expanded at an absurd rate, stretching out until it encompassed even the distant domains of the other elven monarchs. I was confused¡ªmore so when, just as suddenly, he compressed it. The space shrank so drastically that his remaining domain no longer included me. I didn¡¯t understand what he was trying to pull off, but instinct told me nothing good could come of it¡ªespecially with what now lay at his feet. His expansion and subsequent compression had brought something to him. A vast pile of corpses and living monsters, stacked haphazardly. Among them, his chimeric monstrosity. Where had they come from? It wasn¡¯t hard to guess¡ªthey had been snatched through the compression of his domain from the other battlefield. "This isn''t good," I realized, about to summon a massive spear with [Judgement of the Firmament], but another realization stopped me. I would only be wasting MP. More importantly, the presences approaching fast. Each arrived in their own way: the Umbryan Patriarch on his long, slithering familiar; the Aurian Matriarch atop an avian beast; and the Ferron Patriarch using the same Flight skill as the Argyrian Patriarch. After taking in the scene, the Argyrian Patriarch, now hovering beside me, remarked, "Weren''t you supposed to hold him off?" "I was," I said, staring directly into his eyes. "And I did¡ªfor longer than the agreed time. Meaning, I did what I was expected to." I gestured toward the pile of corpses and writhing creatures. "Can''t say the same for you." At least fifteen percent of them were still alive "There were more primes among them than we anticipated," the Aurian Matriarch admitted, acknowledging my not-so-subtle accusation. "Fifteen minutes was an overoptimistic prediction," the Ferron Patriarch chimed in. Then, with a nod toward the compressed domain, he asked, "Can we focus on this? Is it safe to assume he''s in there?" He hadn¡¯t yet arrived at the place, when it happened so he didn¡¯t know. Before the Ferron Patriarch had arrived, the Argyrian Patriarch had descended into the sea of corpses and squirming beasts, burying himself deep within them. My Identification skill confirmed it¡ª The use of the skill became ever more so obvious as the bodies of the monsters and corpses began to melt into one grotesque, pulsing mass. Chapter 43: Argyrian Patriarch (3) The sight was revolting. Inside the silver barrier formed by the Argyrian Patriarch''s ancestral tree, the corpses of various creatures and the still-living, screeching bodies of others melded grotesquely into one giant, writhing mass. "Are we really going to stand here doing nothing to stop that?" remarked the Ferron Patriarch. His frustration was understandable. Letting the Argyrian Patriarch continue whatever twisted machination he was enacting was, at the very least, questionable. But what did he expect us to do? When no one answered his remark, he took the initiative. With a command, he made an attempt¡ªwell, that was a figure of speech. The Ferron Patriarch himself didn''t personally strike; rather, he gave the order. It was his flying fortress looming in the distance that acted on his behalf. A hum of magic filled the air, a deep, thrumming resonance that vibrated through my chest and made my hair stand on end. The fortress, a masterpiece of magecraft suspended in midair, shimmered with pulsating glyphs, each aglow with shifting, fiery brilliance. The vast red crystal, usually positioned beneath the fortress for optimal obliteration, was now angled like a cannon barrel, perfectly aligned with its target. Without any dramatic build up¡ªjust the radiating waves of energy crackling like distant thunder¡ªthe fortress unleashed its wrath. The red crystal erupted with a column of searing energy, golden with streaks of black and crimson. It carved through the sky, splitting the air with an ear splitting roar, and struck the ethereal tree with cataclysmic force. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, distorting the air. Even the Ferron Patriarch, who had ordered the strike, had to brace himself against the backlash. A couple of seconds went by until the Ferron Patriarch sighed, "My, my, my, what a waste of resources..." The barrier, despite its delicate, spectral beauty, held firm. The tree flared brilliantly, its silvery branches absorbing the full brunt of the attack. A moment later, the energy dispersed in a thousand radiant tendrils, cascading harmlessly into the void. The fortress''s assault had been utterly nullified. I wasn''t the least bit surprised. In fact, I would have been more shocked if it had actually worked. Having maxed out my [Identification] skill, I''d acquired a passive subskill that allowed me to instinctively gauge the destructive potential of any attack I notice being used. While ancestral trees couldn''t be evaluated through [Identification]¡ªlikely due to their nature as sigils¡ªI could still tell that the attack was futile. There was a reason I hadn¡¯t wasted my energy on it earlier: the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s tree was too powerful. After all the sigil was one manifested out of nearly all the subaffinities of the elemental main affinity, making it an unassailable force. To make matters worse, he was, at this distance, seamlessly drawing energy from his monsters, using them as living batteries. Had the elven monarchs fulfilled their promises on slaying all the monsters, maybe that wouldn¡¯t have been a problem. But reality was what it was¡ªbitter as ever. As it stood, destroying the barrier was impossible. Kind of. An optimist might say there was one way, and, as much as I hated to admit it, I was still an optimist. Theoretically, if the Aurian Matriarch and the Ferron and Umbryan Patriarchs combined the power of their own ancestral trees, they could counterbalance and annihilate the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s tree¡ªjust as I had done when he trapped me earlier. But that was only in theory. In practice, such an idea was laughable. No monarch would willingly sacrifice their sigil. Even if the destruction was only temporary, being without their ancestral tree, even for a moment, was akin to stripping themselves naked¡ªnot in a matter of dignity, but of survival. Their sigils were their ultimate defense against unforeseen death. Unless their lives were in immediate peril, they would never risk that vulnerability. And I couldn''t blame them for it. "Well," sighed the Ferron Patriarch, resigned, "at least I tried something." Raising an eyebrow at him, as did the other monarchs, I caught sight of approaching silhouettes. They were the ones who had accompanied the elven monarchs for this final confrontation¡ªattendants, escorts. Mostly Solvan and Noctil elves, but among them were Honey, Goblin, Blondie, Bortz, and Aquaflora, all closing in. After sizing them up and down, I asked, "You lot alright?" My question was mostly directed at the three boys in the group¡ªif, of course, you counted Goblin in his current form. Licht, Goblin, and Bortz were covered in blood from head to toe. Though I was 100% sure the blood wasn¡¯t theirs, I couldn''t help but ask. Flapping the large pair of blood-stained white avian wings on his back, Goblin responded in a manic voice that matched his expression¡ªone that was anything but reassuring. "We good. We feeling good." He wasn¡¯t the only one looking manic. Bortz, who lacked flight-related skills, was dangling from Goblin¡¯s left arm just like Honey, who held onto his right hand. Bortz¡¯s therianthropic traits, which he usually kept discreet, were on partial display, and the chains binding him seemed on the verge of breaking apart. Noting that, I called back Tharazuul, the Rotten Beholder, which had remained at the spot I summoned it from. Then, I turned to Bortz. "Need me to strengthen the curse?" "No," Bortz replied, regaining his composure. "I''ll be fine without it¡ªat least until the end of this." "Alright," I answered with a smile, acknowledging Honey, who grinned like he was having the time of his life. Turning to Blondie and Aquaflora, the latter immediately retracting the apprehensive gaze she had thrown at Tharazuul, I asked, "You two alright?" Blondie nodded. "Yes, Ma¡¯am." Aquaflora, less enthusiastic, muttered, "We¡¯re alive. Somehow." "That¡¯s the essential thing," I replied. "I need everyone alive and¡ª" I cut myself off, noting a change in the Argyrian Patriarch. At this point, there was nothing to distinguish the living monsters from the corpses; they had melted into one grotesque, indistinguishable mass that seemed to have taken on a life of its own inside the barrier. "Appraisal," I requested from Blondie, who had the skill at level 10. "This thing can¡¯t be appraised," she answered. "Too many stats are popping up at once when I try." I sighed. Not surprising. Turning instead to the one most likely to give me a useful prognosis, I locked eyes with Goblin. Noticing my glance, he stepped closer and, in a hushed voice, said, "This is beyond anything I¡¯m familiar with when it comes to [Assimilation], but I know for a fact that merging with such a ridiculous ratio of corpses and living beings is a terrible idea. Sure, he has full control over them, so he doesn¡¯t have to deal with resistance while assimilating the living creatures¡ªbut the corpses¡­" Having raised Goblin, I had learned the basics of his craft alongside him. Assimilation came in two forms. The first involved dead monsters¡ªthe user would kill them, then absorb their traits, a process that forced the stolen abilities to merge entirely with the user¡¯s own resources, often causing the acquired attributes to draw directly from the user¡¯s HP, SP, and MP. The second was different: instead of killing the creature, the user bonded with it, borrowing traits rather than taking them outright. Goblin had always preferred the latter method. Though more tedious, it allowed him to keep separate stats from the monster, meaning he retained his own HP, SP, and MP rather than merging completely. Logically, it made sense, as this approach prevented the creature from tapping directly into his personal reserves. But I knew the real reason he chose this method: he loved the monsters he bonded with. So, to get back to the matter at hand, going by what Goblin was suggesting now, it seems that if the Argyrian Patriarch wanted to do something with these corpses, which he clearly is, he¡¯d have to pour vast resources into it. "Not that I want to be overly optimistic," Goblin continued, "but I think we¡¯ve backed him into a corner." "Backed him into a corner, huh?" "I mean, no matter how I look at it, this feels like something a desperate person would do. I might sound mad for saying this, but if I were in his shoes, I¡¯d probably do the same thing." Glancing at the Argyrian Patriarch, I mused, "I guess you¡¯re right." Then, turning to Aquaflora, I told her, "You heard Goblin. Be ready. This might¡ª" I stopped mid-sentence as the shifting, amorphous mass that was now the Patriarch suddenly squirmed. A massive growth erupted from it, swelling grotesquely before bursting open to reveal a giant eyeball, its silver iris unmistakably that of the Argyrian Patriarch. It panned over us¡ªme, Goblin, the elven monarchs, and everyone who had gathered from the other fronts, clustering around their respective leaders. Then, another growth formed, this one not an eye but a vast, gaping mouth. Inside, something condensed¡ªa presence that boded nothing good. The air vibrated with an unnatural force as a deep, commanding voice boomed from the abomination:The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. [DON¡¯T MOVE!] For a moment, the force of the command froze me in place. But my instincts screamed at me to move. Without hesitation, I grabbed Goblin, Aquaflora, Honey, Licht, Blondie, and Bortz. Then, I did the only thing that made sense: I got the fuck out of there. Fast. Avoiding the directions taken by the three monarchs¡ªwho, like me, had resisted the command¡ªI shot upward in a violent ascent. As I climbed, Aquaflora gasped at the sudden movement, and below us, the monstrous entity unleashed the attack it had been preparing in its grotesque maw. It began in silence¡ªan expectant hush that seemed to herald the coming devastation. Even the wind dared not stir, as if nature itself held its breath for the destruction about to be unleashed. Then the beam came. A deafening roar shattered the stillness, echoing across the entire region. From the depths of the monstrosity¡¯s throat, a column of pure, radiant violet light erupted, streaking across the landscape with terrifying speed and destruction. It was blinding¡ªa searing lance of energy that threatened to tear reality itself apart. From my vantage point, I watched in awe as the beam, crackling with diverse elements¡ªlightning, light, gravity, and more¡ªslammed into the distant mountains. The impact came with a brilliant flash and a thunderous explosion that shook the ground beneath us. In mere moments, massive chunks of rock and earth were vaporized, leaving a gaping wound in the mountain range. The beam pressed on, carving through stone and reshaping the land with horrifying ease. My battle against the Argyrian Patriarch had already upended the surroundings, but this surpassed all that had come before. The once-towering peaks in the faraway distance, which had stood for millennia, crumbled before my eyes. Ancient trees, ridges¡ªeverything in its path¡ªwere consumed, flattened, and annihilated in an instant. After what felt like an eternity¡ªthough it was likely only a minute¡ªthe beam finally dissipated. As the violet glow receded, I beheld what remained: a smoldering, irreversibly altered world. Looking around, I searched for survivors. Out of the many elves who had gathered under their monarchs when joining this front, only a handful remained¡ªthe ones whisked away by their monarchs in time to escape the blast. "Everyone alright?" I asked, my voice cutting through the settling silence. They all nodded in response, looking the part¡ªexcept for Aquaflora, who, despite mimicking the others, had clearly taken a blow from our abrupt ascent. Blondie spoke up beside me, her voice wavering but filled with resolve. "Ma¡¯am," she said. "I can finally use Appraisal on it." "Oh? What does it say?" "I can¡¯t make out its offense, defense, or most of its abilities," she admitted, exhaling shakily, "but its MP is in the dozens of millions¡ªand it¡¯s dropping fast." "What the hell¡­" Goblin muttered. "And the HP?" I asked, anticipation thick in my voice. "Not even over six digits, Ma¡¯am," Blondie said, a small smile tugging at her lips. I returned the smile. Against all odds, we were finally seeing a glimmer of hope. "Ready yourselves," I said firmly. "This is finally coming to an end." But the lull was short-lived. The monstrosity stirred again. Much like the enormous mouth it had manifested, countless smaller mouths appeared across its grotesque form¡ªeach glowing with that same ominous violet light. "Everyone, brace yourselves!" I warned, using my chains to pull them together before dragging them to evade what was coming. Instead of a single beam, dozens¡ªmaybe hundreds¡ªlashed out chaotically. The second barrage was worse than the first. Beams of violet energy scorched the skies, ripped open the earth, and obliterated anything that hadn¡¯t already been reduced to rubble. Dodging was a hassle¡ªrelying on my speed alone wasn¡¯t enough. At times, I had to use my swords as a propelling platform just to avoid getting caught by the dancing beams. Amidst the chaos, I heard a furious curse. "Fuuuuuuck!" The voice belonged to the Ferron Patriarch¡ªwho, having brought no subordinates to this front, was free of casualties. His mighty flying fortress, however, was not. A bolt of violet light shattered the fortress¡¯s barrier, leaving it exposed for another beam to finish the job. Bisected in two, the fortress began its descent¡ªa cascade of shrapnel and flames tumbling from the sky. "That was a hundred and twenty-four years of craftsmanship! You¡¯re gonna pay for this!" he roared. He turned his fury on the towering monstrosity in the distance, but it remained protected behind its shield, untouchable for now. There was nothing he could do but seethe at the loss. As the battlefield quieted, I cast a meaningful glance at Goblin and the others before letting go of them to meet with the elven monarchs, who had gathered midair. No doubt they had seen what Blondie saw, so as soon as I joined them, I declared, "It has less than 1 millions HP, I can finish this thing off with one attack¡ªbut I need that barrier gone." The three elven monarchs immediately understood what I meant. Seeing their hesitation, I pointed at the creature, whose gaze remained ominously fixed on us. "We don¡¯t have time. This decision has to be made now." Reluctantly, the Umbryan Patriarch and the Aurian Matriarch agreed to my plan with a nod. The Ferron Patriarch, still fuming over his fortress, had been in from the moment I made the offer. ¡°Avenge my fortress!¡± "Alright," I declared, ascending far higher into the sky. In my ascent, I saw the three monarchs rush toward the monstrosity, stopping at the very edge of its ancestral tree. Instead of attacking the barrier outright, as one would expect, they instead manifested their own ancestral trees¡ªthe Umbryan Patriarch his Obsidial Tree, the Aurian Matriarch her Solith Tree, and the Ferron Patriarch his Cinnabar Tree. Their goal was clear: to destroy the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s ancestral tree through sheer overwhelming force, betting that their combined might would outlast his. One by one, their ancestral trees shattered, each impact weakening the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s barrier but not yet completely nullifying it. The sight was beyond frustrating, but at this point, backing down was not an option. To retreat now would be the worst decision imaginable. Refusing to let the elven monarchs¡¯ sacrifice of their sigil go to waste, I moved to finish what they had started. With a swing, I unleashed my summoned spear¡ª[Judgement of the Firmament]. With a cry, I thrust both arms forward and sent the titanic lance hurtling downward. It pierced the heavens, plummeting like a meteor from the cosmos. For one breathless moment, I watched it slice through the clouds, majestic and unstoppable. Then, it slammed into the barrier¡¯s silvery and ethereal surface. The impact was blinding, accompanied by a thunderous boom as the lance collided with the ancestral tree. The barrier held, but I could tell from its dimming vitality that it was struggling heavily. I knew that I could shatter it by activating the Arctic Oblivion effect of this Judgement of the Firmament, but I refused to use that power just to break the shield. Instead, gritting my teeth, I dove downward at breakneck speed. Reaching the lance in an instant, my boots sparked with raw energy as I delivered a wind-enhanced dropkick with all my strength. It felt like kicking a mountain. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, but the resulting shockwave made it worth it. In that decisive moment, a single, resounding crack echoed across the battlefield. The great tree-shaped barrier trembled, then¡ªinstantly¡ªshattered into glittering splinters. As if my kick had commanded them to vanish, the fragments disintegrated in midair, freeing the lance to continue its deadly descent. Below, the massive monstrosity roared in defiance, its deep growl rattling through my very bones. [STOP!] The Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s voice echoed through the battlefield. I felt his authority pressing against me, stronger than before, but it was futile against an inanimate object. The spear continued its descent unhindered, driving straight into the monstruosity¡¯s giant eye with merciless brutality. The impact was earth-shattering. Even from my place in the sky, I felt the ground tremble violently. Rock and dust erupted in a roaring cloud, momentarily swallowing everything in swirling debris. The sickening crunch of the lance piercing flesh was soon drowned out by the colossal detonation that followed. With a whisper, I activated [Tri-Elemental Oblivion]. The runes¡ªthree glowing circles etched around the midpoint of the lance¡ªflared to life, summoning multilayered magic circles of three distinct varieties. Wind, water, and ice surged forth, each unleashing catastrophic devastation. First came the howling storm of wind. Razor-sharp gusts erupted from the magic circles, slicing through the monstrosity like countless unseen blades. The storm didn¡¯t just strike from the outside¡ªit erupted from within, where the lance had buried deep into its flesh, dicing it from both directions. The second surge was a tidal torrent of water. Coiling around the spear like a sea serpent, it crashed outward, shattering bone and extinguishing the beast¡¯s guttural wails under the relentless slicing. The final touch¡ªthe true devastation¡ªcame as the lance underwent an instant transition. A radiantly cold aura spread outward from the impact point, rapidly freezing the monstrosity¡¯s body. Before it could be thoroughly encased in ice, however, the weapon detonated in a brilliant explosion of frost and force. The earth buckled. For a heartbeat, I, being the closest to the blast, felt as though the very fabric of space around me was being torn apart. Thanks to my skills, I was immune to any HP reduction from my own attacks, yet I could still feel it anatomically¡ªmy lungs seized, my vision flickered with spots of black, and the deafening roar of destruction swallowed every other sound. When calm returned to the scene, a hush fell over the battlefield, broken only by the distinct sound of snowflakes drifting and the remaining rogue winds whistling. I hovered momentarily before descending, catching sight of the elven monarchs, Goblin, and the others approaching. I made my way down, intent on checking whether the bastard was truly gone. As I neared the ground, the veil of debris slowly faded. The first thing I noticed was the absence of the monstrosity¡ªonly cracks spiderwebbed across the earth for miles, and frozen chunks of what remained of it were scattered about. It was wise to be prudent. The system had not properly rewarded me with experience points for the kill. I had received a lot, sure, but slaying something of that magnitude should have resulted in multiple level-ups at the very least. The system was fair¡ªI knew that much. If it hadn''t given me the proper reward, it could only mean one thing: I hadn¡¯t truly finished the job. In other words, he was still alive somewhere. And he didn¡¯t take long to make that clear. Emerging from the rubble, the bastard reappeared¡ªbreathing, living, and, much to everyone¡¯s annoyance, butt-naked. "Tch!" The Aurian Matriarch grimaced in disgust. "Sigh. For real?" The Ferron Patriarch scowled in indignation. "Can''t you just d¡ª" The Umbryan Patriarch seethed, cutting himself off as he summoned his familiar, clearly about to unleash it upon the Argyrian Patriarch. But just as he was about to attack, a word reverberated through the battlefield. [STOP.] The command echoed countless times in our heads. It wasn¡¯t merely a word¡ªit was an order, a compulsion we were forced to obey. My exhaustion made it harder than ever to resist. [DO NOT MOVE!] The Argyrian Patriarch repeated the command again and again. As we remained frozen, he took flight, making his way toward the immobilized Aurian Matriarch, who was closest to him. His intent was obvious. For him, who wielded a Nature Ancestral Tree, killing her would allow him to claim her sigil. Madness aside, his choice of target made strategic sense. This had to be stopped. And somehow, it was. Halfway through reaching the Aurian Matriarch, he halted¡ªnot because of us, but as if something else had pulled his attention away, just like he did before. His gaze shifted suddenly, and instead of striking her down, he turned and shot like a missile toward something on the eastern horizon. It took only half a moment for us to regain control of our bodies, and we wasted no time. The moment we were free, we all¡ªGoblin and the others included¡ªcharged after him. "Running away? As if I¡¯d allow that," the Umbryan Patriarch growled. He, alongside me and the Aurian Matriarch, was among the fastest in pursuit. The Argyrian was only about a hundred meters ahead when we caught up, ready to end this once and for all. But then, something stopped us all in our tracks. The attack that followed was gravitational in nature¡ªstrong enough to knock mountains over. Ordinarily, it wouldn''t have been enough to stop someone as powerful as me or the elven monarchs. And that was the thing. The reason we came to an abrupt halt had nothing to do with its sheer force. It was about who had used it. The presence before us was no mere force of nature. It was a familiar¡ªpristine white scales, eyes as blue as the sky. A serpent. The very same one that had ravaged the Umbryan and Argyrian capitals. And now, it coiled into existence before the Argyrian Patriarch, its vast form looming over him Him¡ªwhom the serpent, with effortless finality¡ªswallowed whole. And it was clear, from the notification that appeared in the corner of my vision, that it had not merely swallowed him. [Hex Components Harvested] Chapter 44: Alliances Just like that the white serpent swallowed the Argyrian Patriarch whole. [Hex Components Harvested] [Level Up Interface] Experience requirement met. Congratulations! You''ve Leveled Up! Weaponry Ascetic Lvl.27> Attribute Points Earned: 15 ¡ºExpand¡» Ice Magic Lvl.12> Ice Magic Lvl.9> [Level Up Interface] Experience requirement met. Congratulations! You''ve Leveled Up! Weaponry Ascetic Lvl.28> Attribute Points Earned: 14 ¡ºExpand¡» [Level Up Interface] Experience requirement met. Congratulations! You''ve Leveled Up! Weaponry Ascetic Lvl.29> Attribute Points Earned: 14 ¡ºExpand¡» Ice Magic Lvl.13> Life Control Lvl.6> Life Control Lvl.9> [Level Up Interface] Experience requirement met. Congratulations! You''ve Leveled Up! Weaponry Ascetic Lvl.30> Attribute Points Earned: 14 ¡ºExpand¡» [Level Up Interface] Experience requirement met. Congratulations! You''ve Leveled Up! Weaponry Ascetic Lvl.31> Attribute Points Earned: 14 ¡ºExpand¡» Manifest Spiritual Armament Lvl.9> Ice Magic Lvl.10> Ice Magic Lvl.8> Ethereal Mana Core Lvl.6> [Notification] Congratulations! You''ve Unlocked a New Ability. Ability Name: Death Manifest Ability Type: Curse Effect: Instead of gathering experience from fallen foes, you harvest the essence of their deaths. This stolen mortality can be shaped into a curse-forged weapon of your choosing, one that bypasses every known defense by directly reducing your target¡¯s HP, SP, MP through pure damage. Description [Identification Lvl. 10]: With Death Manifest, every defeat you deliver becomes a source of unparalleled power. Rather than simply growing stronger from their downfall, you seize the moment of death itself¡ªharnessing that final flicker of life force to craft a lethal curse. This weapon, born from the dying breath of your adversaries, strikes with an unrelenting force that no shield or spell can withstand. - Reflected Agony: By accumulating the deaths of your foes, Death Manifest intensifies each time you claim another life. The curse feeds off the final agony of those you slay, magnifying its destructive might in direct proportion to the total death essence you¡¯ve gathered. - Curse Resonance: The grim echoes of the fallen resonate within your manifested weapon, heightening its impact. Each soul you harvest imbues the curse with residual memories of pain and regret, ensuring that your strikes cut deeper than any conventional blade. - Guaranteed Hit (Against any human): No mundane or magical defense can deter the strike of Death Manifest. Once unleashed, the curse-forged weapon unfailingly finds its mark, ensuring the victim feels the full measure of its lethal potential. - Enhanced Curse Potency: As with all curses, any passive enhancements or general curse-boosting effects multiply the raw power of Death Manifest. Combined with the death essence fueling it, the weapon¡¯s damage can exceed even your foe¡¯s strongest defenses, guaranteeing a decisive and devastating blow. A glance at the elven monarchs revealed their stiff expressions of confusion¡ªthey, too, recognized the undeniable truth. The Argyrian Patriarch, monarch of the Lunor Elves, wielder of the Lunith Ancestral Tree, was dead. The death had been so sudden, so unexpected, that it took the arrival of Aquaflora and Goblin¡ªperched atop one of the former¡¯s bonded creatures¡ªand Aquaflora¡¯s immediate reaction to Goblin¡¯s urgent grip on her arm for the elven monarchs to finally come to their senses. Ancestral Trees¡ªthe manifestations of elven monarch sigils¡ªwere unique in many ways. One such trait was their indestructibility. Unlike a human monarch¡¯s sigil, which would vanish upon its wielder¡¯s defeat, an elven monarch¡¯s sigil remained. This meant that, as long as one met the proper requirements, they could lay claim to it.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Already wielding an ancestral tree of the same affinity as the Argyrian Patriarch, Aquaflora met those requirements. So at Goblin¡¯s urging, she wasted no time shamelessly making her claim. A silvery orb emerged from the white serpent that had devoured the Argyrian Patriarch. It flew straight to Aquaflora, who caught it without hesitation, claiming the ancestral tree for herself. At that sight¡ªand with the white serpent initiating its retreat¡ªthe elven monarchs coming to their senses finally sprang into action. The Aurian Matriarch laid claim to the Nature Ancestral Tree the Argyrian Patriarch had wielded, while the Umbryan Patriarch, recognizing the white serpent, immediately pursued it. Without hesitation, I followed the latter. The sigil, appearing as a glowing green orb, shot past the Umbryan Patriarch and toward the Aurian Matriarch. Or at least, that¡¯s how it seemed. Just as it was about to get in the Aurian Matriarch¡¯s hand, the orb changed course, flying straight toward its rightful wielder¡ªthe one who had surrendered it six months prior in a desperate attempt to destroy the Argyrian Patriarch. That gambit had failed, breaking the man¡¯s mind instead of his body. ¡°Welcome home, my precious,¡± Goblin declared triumphantly, claiming the ancestral tree back. The Aurian Matriarch¡¯s utter confusion was palpable, but before she could recover, battle erupted once more. Bortz was the first to strike. He came at the Aurian Matriarch like a comet, claws extended in his fully unleashed lycanthropic form, teeth bared in a guttural snarl. His first swipe cut through empty air as she twisted just in time, sending clawing shockwaves that carved deep scars into the earth below, scattering gravel across the scorched battlefield. Bortz snarled in annoyance but did not relent. Twisting midair with wolfish grace, he launched himself again. This time, his claws connected, raking a shallow gash across her torso. She hissed through gritted teeth, pain flashing in her eyes. But she used his momentum against him, pivoting and driving a vicious kick into his side. Bortz¡¯s massive frame hurtled downward, limbs flailing as he struggled to regain balance. But before he could even hit the ground, Honey struck. A streak of radiant light sliced through the air. In the span of a heartbeat, Honey closed in on the Matriarch, sword raised high, aglow with destructive radiance. He aimed for her throat in a sweeping arc. She was fast¡ªbut he was faster. Though she managed to twist away at the last moment, his blade still met flesh. Instead of her head, her right arm was severed in a clean, merciless cut. A terrible shriek ripped through the air as her arm tumbled away. She clutched at the ragged stump, her face contorted in agony. Eyes narrowing, she hissed, ¡°You son of¡ª¡± Her words never finished, for she didn¡¯t see me coming. While her focus had been on Honey, I struck from behind. My frost-forged sword hummed with lethal cold as my grip tightened around the hilt. The blade slid effortlessly between her shoulder blades, emerging visiously from the other side. Her breath caught in her throat¡ªshock evident in her wide eyes. Time seemed to slow to a creeping halt, thanks to my [Cryostasis], as she turned her head, locking eyes with me over her shoulder. A flicker of recognition and disbelief crossed her features. She managed a strangled whisper. I leaned in to listen, recognizing the same words the Umbryan Patriarch had spat at me in a similar situation. "What¡­ what do you think you¡¯re doing?!" "The Argyrian Patriarch is dead," I whispered, my clone¡ªwho had been on standby protecting Veilleuse-19¡ªmirroring my words, as she too impaled the Umbryan Patriarch. "It marks the end of our partnership." At these words, and my following attempt to finish them off, the two elven monarchs I held at my blade¡¯s edge had two distinct reactions. Activating the frostburst effect of my strike, I watched as the Aurian Matriarch¡¯s chest exploded into a mangled mess. In desperation, she used her last resort, manifesting her ancestral tree as a barrier that forcefully knocked me away and brought Honey and Bortz¡¯s charge to a sudden halt. The Umbryan Patriarch, upon suffering a similar fate, had his familiar lunge at me. However, before it could reach me, a figure stepped between us¡ªher grip firm on Typha?ne, the staff shaped like a refined cane. With no room for such a thing as mercy, she spammed her elemental magic, her attacks ceaseless, as if there were no tomorrow. In that moment as I was about to strike again at him, the Umbryan Patriarch, too, summoned his ancestral tree, making it clear that, just like the Matriarch, he had never truly gone all out in trying to shatter the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s barrier earlier. With his ethereal tree manifested, knocking me back, I made no attempt to fight it. Instead, I hurried myself and grabbed Blondie, and darted away from the barrier before the bastard could entrap her inside his domain. Once at a safe distance¡ªnot far, since he hadn¡¯t manifested his barrier on a massive scale¡ªI released her. Hovering in the air, we turned our gaze toward the three remaining elven monarchs, all now protected by their respective ancestral trees¡ªexcept for the Ferron Patriarch. "That¡¯s cheating," I said flatly before ¡°I¡±¡ªmy clone added, "You shouldn¡¯t have the strength left to manifest your sigils. Did you distrust me so much that you believed you needed a backup plan to fall on? Or did you expect something like this to happen all along?" "Having at least one ancestral tree as a last resort is the most basic precaution an elven monarch can take," the Ferron Patriarch responded, hovering near the Aurian Matriarch. As if to prove his point, he summoned his Cinnabar Tree. Not five seconds passed before his ancestral tree shattered like glass. The sudden shattering took the Umbryan Patriarch by surprise¡ªbut more than anyone, the Aurian Matriarch, who had just finished healing her exploded torso and regrowing her arm. "Welp," the Ferron Patriarch winced. "I suppose when you¡¯re that much stronger, that¡¯s just a natural thing." His ancestral tree hadn¡¯t shattered for no reason. It had shattered because he had used it not as a barrier or a prison, but as an offensive tool¡ªan attempt to break the Aurian Matriarch¡¯s barrier, like the three of them earlier did the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s sigil. The attempt failed, and in doing so, he exposed his true stance to the other elven monarchs. "Farmi! You fucking traitor!" the Aurian Matriarch seethed murderously. "I¡¯m going to kill you!" "Me?" the Ferron Patriarch responded slowly, pointing toward the sky. "I don¡¯t think so, dear." At his command, something that had gone forgotten made its move. A beam fired from the western horizon. Having collapsed from the sky earlier, what remained of his flying fortress struck the already weakened ancestral tree of the Aurian Matriarch. Overwhelmed, the tree shattered like did the Ferron Patriarch. At the sight, the Ferron Patriarch rejoiced out loud, "Let¡¯s go!!!! Best investment ever!" The sight sent the Aurian Matriarch into a fury. As soon as her barrier broke, she charged at the one she blamed for it¡ªonly to realize she wouldn¡¯t reach him. The both of ¡°me¡±, Honey, Goblin, a barely-restrained Bortz, and Blondie stood in her way. What followed next was rapid¡ªin the most gruesome sense of the term. [Hex Components Harvested] Without their ancestral trees, elven monarchs were not much different from regular elves of the same level. The only advantage they retained was their skills and abilities¡ªbut that hardly mattered when faced with overwhelming force. In an instant, through a barrage of attack physical and magic but mostly physical, another elven monarch fell. With a wide grin, Goblin laid his claim to the Aurian Matriarch¡¯s ancestral tree. "How does it feel, freaky friend?" the Ferron Patriarch asked Goblin. "Liberating," Goblin replied, his eyes gleaming. "Feels like I grew wings." "Welcome to greatness, my friend," the Ferron Patriarch responded, patting Goblin on the back. I gave him a subtle signal, the same one I sent to Blondie, Honey, and Bortz. Without hesitation, they followed the command, dragging along a thoroughly confused Aquaflora as they withdrew at full speed. That left just me, my beloved copy, and the Ferron Patriarch standing together. The Umbryan Patriarch remained as well, though not exactly by choice. And then there was someone else. "So that''s what you''ve become," the Umbryan Patriarch sneered from inside his barrier, addressing the Ferron Patriarch. "Her lackey. Do you have no pride? No shame at all as a monarch?" "Mmh... lackey, huh?" The Ferron Patriarch mused, glancing at me. "That¡¯s not really how I see our relationship. Madam Arianna and I are more like partners." Nodding along my clone I confirmed, "yes. Partners." "Partners... like she was to us," the Umbryan Patriarch muttered. "What did she promise you to make you do this?" The Ferron Patriarch smiled knowingly at him before responding, "Don¡¯t try that on me, Patriarch. It won¡¯t work. But even if it did, does it really look like I could be ¡°the¡± elf to help you in your current predicament?" The Umbryan Patriarch''s silence confirmed his point. Chuckling self-deprecatingly at the Umbryan Patriarch¡¯s lack of response, the Ferron Patriarch stretched and declared, "Well then, I believe what happens next is between yourselves. I¡¯m exhausted, so I¡¯m out of here." With these words, he promptly took his leave, leaving only me, me again and the Aurian Patriarch around. No, that wasn¡¯t right. There was someone else. With everything that had happened, his existence had almost been forgotten. The Umbryan Patriarch only remembered him when he, creeping by, slowly adjusted his size, slithering around me to coil himself like Aquaflora¡¯s little white Loong often did. Missing that sensation, after six long months of separation, I whispered, "Immaculate timing. Well done today, and for everything you''ve done over the past half a year, White." The blue-eyed, white-scaled serpent hissed in response. He spoke, but I do not speak the language he spoke but I knew his soul too well to misinterpret his meaning. "Thank you," I replied, patting the fellow Dungeon Master. At the sight of the creature that had quite literally been the face of the stampede, realization dawned in the Umbryan Patriarch¡¯s eyes. His breath hitched, and he muttered in disbelief, "You... It was all you..." Chapter 45: Goal "It was you... You''re the one behind all of this," the Umbryan Patriarch seethed behind his barrier. I chuckled at his words. "All is a ridiculously big word, but yes." We were behind the presence of the stampede here. We orchestrated the stampede partial attack on the Argyrian Capital. We were responsible for the Argyrian Patriarch and his stampede attack on the Umbryan capital. Goblin, Bortz, Blondie, and Charlie were to blame for the Patriarch¡¯s madness, so in the grand scheme of things, yes, I was involved¡ªthrough White, who had taken full advantage of the authority I had sneakily allowed to be used again for this mission to recover the Rule and Overrule authority. That authority being Authority Gathering, which Goblin and the others quickly realized could be used to bait the Argyrian Patriarch wherever we wished him to be. So I couldn''t bring myself to not use it when there was so much to be gained. I went on with my plan, lying to Licht at first, pretending to have returned the authority back to Dungeon Master 00. I know I¡¯m going to be torn apart by Dungeon Master 07 upon my return from this mission, but at least everything went well¡ªno, not just well, it went fantastically well. The Patriarch glared at me. "What¡¯s so amusing that warrants such a horrible smile?" "A lot," I sneered. "What exactly do you plan to do here?" He was stalling, wasting time. I didn¡¯t mind. In fact, it pleased me that he was doing just that. "Isn¡¯t that obvious already from what I did to the Aurian Matriarch?" I tilted my head. "I¡¯m going to kill you, and¡ª" "And?" "This discussion takes me back to a conversation we had before. I told you I aimed to defeat Cleon, and you called me a fool. I told you my plan to borrow help to defeat the One and Only Emperor, and you refused. Now, Patriarch, do you still see me as a fool? How does the idea of working with me compare to your current circumstances?" I inquired dramatically. Seconds passed in silence. He said nothing. I smirked. "What? You¡¯re not even going to offer to work for me?" "You expect me to do that?" "Why would you?" "I think I¡¯ve seen enough of you to know that you have no intention of accepting such a suggestion. You just want to see me beg." I snickered. "Hehehehe. You¡¯ve figured me out. You¡¯re right. I just wanted to make you pay for looking down on me. There is no plan where you, Patriarch, live." I let the silence settle before adding, pretending to hesitate, "Though, I suppose, there¡¯s a way for ¡®you¡¯ to still live." "What do you mean by that?" "I mean that you can still live as Linh, but no longer as the Patriarch of the Umbryan Elven Family, Monarch of the Noctils elves. In other words, give up your title of monarch, surrender your ancestral tree." I already knew his answer from his expression, but he still asked, "To who?" "To whom else but me?" I grinned widely. It took him a moment to piece it together, but when he did, he frowned. "You want my Ancestral Tree." I nodded. "Yes, Patriarch, I want your Si¡ª" "Madness!" Ancestral trees, due to their tangible and indestructible nature, had a unique quality: they were claimable not just by monarchs and former monarchs, but by anyone with the mental capacity to make the claim. That meant that any elf, any human, even a monster, could claim an ancestral tree if they had the will to do so. Naturally, those with stronger claims, like monarchs or former wielders, had a greater chance to do so. But without anyone to contest my claim, I could acquire the Umbryan Patriarch¡¯s ancestral tree if he, just like Goblin had once with his Blood Elemental Ancestral Tree, lent it to me. "Surrender it to me and li¡ª" I began, only to be rudely interrupted. "Madness!" he spat, barely containing his rage. But as he regained his composure, he asked, "Are you doing this because you think that with my Obsidial Tree, you will stand a chance against him?" I didn¡¯t reply, but my little smile confirmed it. Hoping that he might reconsider, I said, "That¡¯ll be the only outcome in which you leave this place alive, Patriarch. Accept it as it is or¡ª"Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. "What makes you so sure that I¡¯d be so easily defeated as her?" At that moment, we both glanced at what little remained of the Aurian Matriarch. "I admit I''m not sure how much resistance you will put up, but I know for a fact that you''re far enough from your domain and your subjects. The ones you brought along are dead, so I know for a fact that you can''t come up with any drastic recovery that my recovery speed can''t keep up with. Heck, if you could, I''m sure that someone with such a big ego as you would have already thoroughly crushed me. But you know that you can''t." The Patriarch kept a straight face at my remark. Wanting to further get under his skin, I asked, "What will it be, Patriarch? I''m going to be alright with whatever decision you take, just so you know." "You could surrender your Ancestral Tree to me, start anew in some untrodden corner of Quel''thalas. The continent is big enough for all of us, so I wouldn''t mind you coming up with a little village of your own. Or you could just come out of your barrier, face me, and die against me. Or, or, or, you could also keep doing what you''re doing¡ªstay inside your barrier waiting to recover. But here''s my question: what will be faster? Your recovery speed, my recovery speed, or them?" "Them..." At first, the Patriarch didn''t immediately grasp my meaning, but it didn''t take long for him to catch on. There are many differences beyond skill between a low-level person and a high-level one. There''s skill, there''s status, there¡¯s ability¡ªboth in quantity and quality. And then there¡¯s something called recovery speed. At low levels, even if one were to bring their MP or SP to zero, they could recover fully within less than a day. But past level 20¡ªor level 15 for MP-centric or SP-centric individuals¡ªthat would be impossible without a skill specifically increasing the recovery speed of these resources. Needless to say, for someone whose HP, SP, and MP are in the five- and six-digit range, full recovery takes far longer than days. The same was true for him. Meaning that if he wanted to hold this front to recover a reasonable amount, this stalemate could last for days¡ªand that was more than enough time for Goblin and the others to cripple him by cutting off his main source of resources. "You wouldn''t dare!" he seethed. "Mh, you''re sure about that?" I asked, patting the head of the serpent clinging to my shoulder. "Little White over here almost exterminated your people just playing around. What makes you think that someone as unhinged as Goblin, as dedicated as Bortz and Honey, and as loyal to me as Blondie wouldn¡¯t wipe your capital off the face of the earth for me?" White hissed challengingly at him, and I added, "Oh, and I almost forgot¡ªthe Ferron Patriarch. You were curious why he worked with me? The answer is simple: because he has crappy neighbors. So really, he wouldn''t be the one hesitating to handle what needs to be handled to get rid of these crappy neighbors." These last words shattered the facade of composure the Umbryan Patriarch had maintained. Because at the mention of the Ferron Patriarch, he understood¡ªhis Ancestral Tree, which he had left behind to protect his people, wouldn''t protect them against a Patriarch like the Ferron Patriarch. Moreover, he wasn''t the only Elven monarch heading there. His Ancestral Tree wouldn¡¯t protect them. Not from that. "What will it beeeeeeeeeeeeeee, Paaaaaaaaaaaaatriarch?" I teased. Pressed between a rock and a hard place, the Patriarch struggled to make a choice, but like many times before, he was forced to settle on one nonetheless. Withdrawing his barrier, he then took a course of action that made his ultimate decision clear. The Umbryan Patriarch summoned several Shadow Creatures, just as he had when he first opened hostilities against the Argyrian Patriarch. His intentions were clear. Glancing at White on my shoulder and exchanging a nod with him and my cold-blooded copy, I told the Patriarch, "Very well. As difficult as you make it for me, this is a decision I can respect. Now then, let''s finish this, Patriarch Linh." *** [Hex Components Harvested] [Level Up Interface] Experience requirement met. Congratulations! You''ve Leveled Up! Weaponry Ascetic Lvl.32> Attribute Points Earned: 13 ¡ºExpand¡» [Level Up Interface] Experience requirement met. Congratulations! You''ve Leveled Up! Weaponry Ascetic Lvl.33> Attribute Points Earned: 13 ¡ºExpand¡» [Notification] Congratulations! You''ve been bestowed a Title! Title Name: Elven Slayer Description [Identification Lvl.10]: You are a scourge upon the long-lived. The title of Elven Slayer is reserved for those who have perfected the art of hunting and eradicating elves with relentless precision and cruelty. Wielding unmatched ferocity, you strike fear into the hearts of even the most battle-hardened elves. This title grants extraordinary power against elven opponents, turning you into a living nightmare for their kind. Title¡¯s Bestowed Enhancement: - Attack Potency (Elven Bane): With this ability, your combat proficiency against elves is unparalleled. You deal 60% increased damage to elven opponents, ensuring your strikes cut deep into their graceful forms. - Critical Strike Chance (Elves): Your precision reaches lethal levels when facing elves. Critical strike chance against elves increases by 40%, making every blow a potential death sentence. - Resistance Bypassing (Elves): Your attacks pierce through elven defenses, reducing their resistance by 80%. Whether through magical wards, natural agility, or armor, nothing will protect them from your wrath. - Grace Reaver Surge: For every elf of similar tier or level slain in combat, you restore 20% of your maximum HP, MP, and SP. This sustains your fury in prolonged battles, ensuring your onslaught remains unyielding. - Endurance of the Hunter: Your fatigue is drastically reduced when fighting elves, lowering your fatigue accumulation by 500%. This allows you to hunt tirelessly, outlasting your prey with ruthless efficiency. "Not quite the reward I was praying for to slaying yet another long-lived monarch, but alright." [Sigil Aquired] [Notification] Congratulations! You''ve been bestowed a Title! Title Name: Sigil-holder [Interface Adjustement in progress...] Chapter 46: Monarch of the Noctil elves and Patriarch of the Umbryan Family Cam awoke from his nap, blinking against the soft light filtering through his window. He felt a strange exhaustion lingering in his limbs, remnants of something he couldn¡¯t shake. After a moment of confusion, he remembered. His master had insisted he rest, and now, as he glanced around, he realized he was in his room¡ªor rather, the room assigned to him by his lord master. Despite his best efforts to decorate it to resemble his old quarters, each time his eyes opened to its unfamiliar walls, he was reminded this was not the room he had called home for the past 277 years. This room was in a new castle, one hastily assigned after the recent attack on the capital. The assault had decimated much of the capital¡¯s infrastructure, including the patriarch¡¯s grand castle and his master¡¯s estate. The Patriarch, unwilling to rebuild atop the ruin, had ordered the entire Noctils elves¡¯ population to relocate further north, where reconstruction began anew. His master had tried to replicate the old castle¡¯s design, but for both of them, it didn¡¯t feel the same. The wooden floorboards didn¡¯t creak as they once did, the wood lacked the familiar scent, and even the temperature feel colder. It gnawed at Cam, just as it gnawed at his master. His master, ever wise, had once explained that their kind¡¯s long lifespans made them more susceptible to such attachments. Humans, with their fleeting lives, adapted quickly to change. Elves, however, lived long enough to form deep emotional bonds to places and objects. Cam sometimes wished he didn¡¯t feel such attachments; it would make life simpler. But he was an elf¡ªenvying humans was pointless. As he pondered these thoughts, an image surfaced in his mind. Rumors had circulated about two humans residing in the castle of one of his master¡¯s fellow advisors. One was a man with hair the color of blood¡ªnot the dull red of northern mongrels, but a vibrant, striking crimson. The other was a woman whose black hair was so like a Noctils elf¡¯s that, if not for her face and ears, she could have passed as one of them. Curiosity had gnawed at Cam, especially about the woman, though he never had the chance to see her¡ªuntil the day chains bound him to her. He remembered seeing her above him, chains in hand. She was their savior. Her beauty lingered in his thoughts. Are there many humans as beautiful as her where she came from? He suspected his master, with a life full of adventures, might have an answer. Thinking of his master brought Cam out of his reverie. He remembered why he was here in the first place. After feeling inexplicably drained, his master had ordered him to rest. Now, feeling rejuvenated, Cam dressed quickly and left his room to find his master. Navigating the castle¡¯s halls, he eventually found the tall elf in the garden, standing by the pond. "Oh, you''re done resting already?" his master noted, glancing over his shoulder. His master was tall, his ears longer than most, his eyes a unique shade of green, and his hair an unusual black that betrayed his mixed blood. "Yes, Master," Cam responded with a genuine and respectful bow. "It¡¯s barely been an hour." "Yes, and it was more than enough, Master. I feel better already." "Mh, if you say so," his master murmured, turning back to appreciate the clear pond, where small red fish swam lazily. "The weather around these parts isn¡¯t suited for such beautiful creatures. It¡¯s too cold for them." "I always make sure to warm their water frequently, Master," Cam said. "I know. Without that, they¡¯d already be dead," his master reassured him. "But that¡¯s not what I meant. This simply isn¡¯t where they belong." "Oh¡­ What do you suggest, Master?" "I think¡­ I think we shou¡ª" His master suddenly cut himself off mid-sentence. His serene expression shifted to one of grave concern, and his body stiffened like a statue. "Master, are you alright?" Cam asked, alarmed. Deaf to Cam¡¯s words, his master muttered in a despairing voice, "This¡­ this can¡¯t be." Panic surged through Cam. "Master, what¡¯s happening¡ª" He was about to ask but he stopped mid-sentence as the sky above them suddenly darkened. Raising his gaze, Cam quickly realized it wasn¡¯t the sky itself but the Ancestral Tree surrounding the barrier becoming less transparent than usual. Normally invisible from this distance, it now filtered the light so heavily that night descended upon them. As if the sudden darkness wasn¡¯t terrifying enough, Cam noticed the barrier was moving¡ªshrinking. The barrier¡¯s edges approached rapidly, and for a moment, Cam felt certain it would crush him into a bloody paste. But at the last second, it harmlessly excluded him, focusing instead on his master. The towering Ancestral Tree shrank down, forming a black straight thread that connected his master to something in heaven. "Master," Cam called, reaching out to his master¡¯s shoulder, trying to snap him out of his trance. His touch seemed to work¡ªhis master turned towards him, offering a brief smile that vanished just as quickly. "Master, are you alright?" Cam repeated, not realizing that the elf standing before him was no longer his master, but the Umbryan Patriarch himself. He had resorted to the last-ditch feature of his Ancestral Tree¡ªan ability that allowed him to abandon his main body and transfer his essence into another. "THAT BITCH!" the Patriarch roared, stomping the ground in fury. The force knocked Cam off his feet, shattering the garden¡¯s ground and spilling the pond¡¯s water¡ªand the tiny red fishes¡ªacross the floor. "THAT BITCH, SHE KILLED ME! SHE DARED," he seethed, rage radiating from him in waves. His fists clenched so tightly that blood seeped from his palms, dripping to the ground. This was the angriest he had ever been in his long life. But as furious as he was, he wasn¡¯t so blinded by his emotions that he lost his grip on reality. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to regain control, pulling his anger back to a manageable level. With a heavy sigh, he looked at his bloodied fist¡ªa fist that wasn¡¯t his own, but rather that of Lau, one of his trusted advisors. Lau was a former monarch whom he had stripped of the ancestral tree several centuries ago. Compared to the other dethroned monarchs under the Patriarch¡¯s command, Lau had been particularly strong. That¡¯s why he had chosen him specifically to hold onto the Ancestral Tree the Patriarch had left as a barrier to protect the capital. While it might seem like it did, this arrangement didn¡¯t restore Lau to the rank of a monarch. Though he technically held the sigil, his control over it was heavily restricted. In essence, he existed merely as a stand-in for his master¡ªthe Umbryan Patriarch¡ªin his absence. The moment the Patriarch returned to the capital, ownership of the sigil would automatically revert to him. Beyond that, Lau¡¯s role in holding the sigil served another purpose: he was to act as a vessel for the Patriarch to reincarnate into, should an untimely end unexpectedly befall him. Which is exactly what happened here.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. When the Patriarch chose Lau for that role, he never imagined he¡¯d have to rely on that particular function. He had acknowledged the venture¡¯s danger but was confident that retreat was always an option. Never did he think he would have to abandon his body¡ªor worse, his ancestral tree to survive. Because yes, while his essence was spared, the sigil¡ªhis ancestral tree remained on his corpse; it hadn¡¯t conveniently followed his essence here. Just like his skills, abilities, and level¡ªall of it was lost and now, most likely, in that woman¡¯s possession. The thought infuriated him beyond measure, but he knew the worst thing he could do was waste precious time on anger. He needed to find a solution to this dire predicament. It was then, as he was formulating a plan¡ªor at least trying to¡ªthat he noticed something strange. The sky began to darken. His heart skipped a beat. He raised his gaze to the source of the sudden gloom. The sun, high above, was obscured by a large spherical object, plunging the capital into what resembled a total eclipse. In fact, it didn¡¯t just look like one¡ªit was a total eclipse. A dark blue moon hovered above Quel¡¯thelas, one of the two continents famously moonless. As a Monarch, he understood the significance of what he was seeing. A moon could only signify one of two things, which, when stripped to their core, were essentially the same¡ªthe presence of a monarch, either of angelic or demonic origin. From the oppressive aura descending upon him, it wasn¡¯t difficult to discern which of the two it was. Descending to hover just ten meters above the ground were three humanoid figures. Two of them were female¡ªtwins, by their identical appearance. Their long violet hair shimmered in the dim light, and but for their pale complexions and long ears, one might have mistaken them for some bastard variety of elf. But he knew better. Both wore garments reminiscent of human nobility, though their weapons¡ªa chakram for one, and a red blade for the other¡ªbetrayed their martial readiness. The twins flanked a male demon, whom the Patriarch immediately recognized as the owner of the sigil plunging his capital into darkness. The type of demon was made evident as the twins smiled and the man spoke, revealing a prominent set of fangs. "Patriarch Linh, I presume?" he asked, though it was clear he already knew the answer. "Who am I speaking to?" the Patriarch demanded. With a slight bow, the demon smiled wider. "Ivan Kaal Raveth Lucifero, protector of the North-Western border under which shines the blue moon and seventh Archduke of the Underworld." The smile widened even further. "That¡¯s how I¡¯m officially known. But to a select few¡ªamong which I¡¯m sure you¡¯re familiar¡ªI¡¯m simply called, Lucy." In that moment, the Patriarch¡¯s suspicions were confirmed. "You¡¯re working with her," he said bitterly. The timing of their sudden appearance left no doubt. What were the odds of another monarch waiting practically at his doorstep unless they had been sent by her? No¡ªnot just sent. He had been waiting for him. That bitch! He seethed. She must have known he would resort to this last-ditch use of his ancestral tree to revive in one of his subjects. In that moment, the Patriarch realized how thoroughly she had manipulated him. She baited him with threats, leading him to believe that quickly waging that doomed battle was the wise choice, granting him time to secretly revive here and plan his next move. But he never had that time. As much as it pained him to admit it¡ªshe had him. "Indeed, I work with Ma¡¯am¡ªArianna," the Archdemon nodded. The Patriarch was about to ask what Arianna had offered to secure the Archdemon¡¯s loyalty when another realization struck him. He understood the answer without asking, just as he now understood how Arianna had acquired the Demon Slaughterer title and that Demonic Bane (Monarch Killer) ability. The question of which demonic monarch had to die for her to claim that title was no longer a mystery. There was no point in asking. The answer was clear. This Archdemon, that excuse of monarch, the half-breed who snatched the Argyrian Patriarch¡¯s sigil, and the insolent thief who stole the Aurian Matriarch¡¯s ancestral tree¡ªthey were all her partners in crime. At the sight of the two demonesses smiling condescendingly at him, the Patriarch activated [Flight], ascending to their level. As he did, the Archdemon said, "For you to be revived under this form, I can only assume you refused her offer to walk away with your life." "I am no craven," the Patriarch spat, his voice laced with irritation. The mere suggestion that he might have accepted her offer grated on his nerves. "He''s proud..." the demoness to the Archdemon''s left chimed, her tone dripping with mockery. "Too proud, I''d say," echoed the other demoness on the right, both of them wearing identical smirks. "Pride," the Archdemon mused thoughtfully. "How could he not be prideful? He''s a monarch, after all. Pride is second nature to us. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that pride is going to lead you to make the same mistake twice in a single day. And all when there''s a much better alternative offered to you." "The one where I just surrender what''s mine to you people?" the Patriarch barked. "The one where you walk away and live to see another day. Your life as a monarch will end here, but you''ll live to experience whatever''s left to experience," the Archdemon replied calmly. "What makes you think I want to live such a life?" "There is no shame in having pride, but pride should never get in the way of reason," the Archdemon said, his voice deepening as he opened his arms wide. "You will fight, perhaps believing that in this weakened form you''ll defeat me, or maybe just to act upon your pride. But ultimately, we both know the outcome." In his current form, the Patriarch couldn''t use Appraisal¡ªthe vessel he''d reincarnated into simply didn''t have that skill; furthermore it is a known fact that monarchs aren''t appraisable. But even without the skill, he knew enough to gauge that he lacked the power to defeat someone of the Archdemon''s level. Perhaps when he was whole, he might have stood a chance. But now, he was too weakened. His only advantage lay in his proximity to his subject, allowing him to draw energy seamlessly. Yet this advantage posed a grave risk¡ªone all elven monarchs were acutely aware of. They always took battles far from their subjects, ensuring they were protected under sturdy barriers. Their subjects were their greatest vulnerability, and the Archdemon understood this all too well. "Should we fight, should you be able to put up a fight, you and I both know it will come at their expense," the Archdemon stated, his voice calm but pointed. These words ignited a fresh wave of fury within the Patriarch. The Archdemon sounded exactly like her. Still, the Patriarch''s gaze drifted to his capital, to the castle standing tall at its center, surrounded by his people¡ªall tirelessly working to rebuild the capital to its former glory. "I can understand your pride as a monarch," the Archdemon continued. "But will your pride as a patriarch allow this to be burned to the ground?" These words, clearly designed to coerce his surrender without a struggle, left the Patriarch speechless. His anger urged him to retort, but the sight of the elf¡ªthe one whose master¡¯s body he now inhabited¡ªbrought him back to his senses. The elf¡ªclutching his head, blood dripping from the Patriarch¡¯s initial outburst¡ªstood below, looking up at him with concern after returning the fish to the pond they¡¯d been thrown from. The Patriarch recognized him. Cam was a Noctil elf, and he, as the monarch of all Noctil elves, had created them¡ªhad even named them. What kind of creator forgets his own creation? It was only when everyone¡¯s gaze shifted to him that Cam finally prioritized his safety and fled into his master¡¯s castle. Yet if a battle erupted, that castle would be anything but a safe place. Finally tearing his gaze from the scene below, the Patriarch turned back to the Archdemon standing before him. The Archdemon wasted no time. "What will it be, Patriarch?" After a heavy, resigned sigh, the Patriarch spoke. "I have one last question. Before I answer, I want you to answer that question. Truthfully." "Do ask," the Archdemon replied with a sly smile. Chapter 47: Rule and Overrule There was a strained rumble, like always. It was long, very long. It didn''t surprise me much, but it shook the creature I was observing. Reptilian in nature, it was a subspecies of basilisk¡ªnot quite there yet, but it had the potential to evolve into one. For now, it just looked like an oversized lizard. When the flying fortress rumbled overhead, the creature, acting more like the animal it resembled, took flight. But it had barely covered a dozen meters when a hiss from White, perched on my shoulder, made it freeze mid-lunge. Another hiss followed, and the creature, stripped of its previous impetuosity, crawled back to me. It was my fellow Dungeon Master who did that. No notification from my Identification skill had popped up meaning this wasn''t the result of a skill or ability. He did it using the authority known as [Rule and Overrule], the very authority we''d set out to secure. And secure it, we did. It''s been a week since we defeated the Argyrian Patriarch and his stampede. A week since White claimed the authority from the thief that the Patriarch was. Only yesterday did I finally get the chance to explore it after all the chaos and loose ends left to tie in the wake of the Argyrian Patriarch''s death. White and I wasted no time, diving headfirst into understanding the newly acquired authority. How could we not? We''d both heard so much about it from Goblin, Dungeon Master 10, and Bortz. More importantly, I''d seen firsthand what it could do when the unstable Argyrian Patriarch wielded it. Anyone who had witnessed such power would''ve shared my eagerness to see how it worked. From what I''ve seen since yesterday¡ªand from the reports I''ve received¡ªthe [Rule and Overrule] authority allows its wielder to command living beings. These commands come in two forms: partial and total. Partial commands are temporary, like when White ordered the wannabe basilisk to stop and return to me. Eventually, the creature would regain control over its senses and be free again. Total commands, however, are permanent. The orders become ingrained in the being''s very existence. The Argyrian Patriarch used this to rally monsters under his control, making them extensions of himself, like subjects to a monarch. They were tied to him until their very end. Given these two distinct manifestations, it''s easy to guess there are two different costs to using them. Yes, even though this authority exists outside the system and can bend the system¡¯s established rules, it''s still bound by a certain cost-for-benefit principle. You can actually feel and gauge this cost, similar to how you''d monitor HP, MP, and SP when using skills. As a non-dungeon Core, I don''t have access to the Dungeon Core interface to see the cost extracted from each use of the authority. But I can feel it. Each use of that authority is taxing me on a of ressource known as GP¡ªthe very thing dungeons exist to harvest by slaughtering anything that steps into their domain. When wielding [Rule and Overrule], I could feel not just a faint trace of GP within myself but also in others. It stirred something dark and primal¡ªa predatory instinct that I suspect drove the Argyrian Patriarch to madness. To a dungeon, people¡ªlife itself¡ªare nothing more than walking reservoirs of GP, waiting to be harvested. In a way, his madness wasn¡¯t madness at all, as it can be said that the true Argyrian Patriarch was truly already dead; it was simply the behavior of a dungeon core set loose beyond the boundary of its domain. Scary. Anyway, as we¡¯d come to figure out through our own experimentations, to issue a command, certain prerequisites must be met, one of which is having enough GP in reserve. While the common system doesn¡¯t directly acknowledge GP, it¡¯s obvious the system relies on it as fuel. You need a certain baseline for the system to function properly. Otherwise, the exponential scaling wouldn¡¯t make sense. From our dungeon core days, we¡¯ve known that a person¡¯s GP value scales exponentially with their titles, level, skills, and abilities. That¡¯s why we concluded that this authority can¡¯t be wielded recklessly¡ªone¡¯s GP reserves are finite. Unless, of course, you¡¯re willing to be unreasonable... but that¡¯s an entirely different story. Honestly, that''s the part that intrigued me the most. Before acquiring the authority, I never really thought about it. But now? It bothers me. I can''t understand how the Patriarch used the authority the way he did. Something doesn''t add up. Controlling that many monsters thoroughly¡ªnot just partially¡ªshould''ve drained an astronomical amount of GP. As I am now, I could only confidently control fifteen prime monsters at most. But the Patriarch had an entire stampede under his thumb. A possible explanation? Maybe it was because he was a Patriarch. Convenient, sure, but it doesn¡¯t quite add up. If his nature as a Patriarch was the reason, it would mean he was drawing GP from his subjects. But the Argyrian population seemed fine¡ªnone showed any signs of having their GP drained. Not that we know exactly what that looks like, but still... And considering the sheer number of monsters he controlled, it would¡¯ve required more GP than the entire Argyrian population could possibly provide. Then there¡¯s the question of whether it¡¯s even possible to hoard GP like that. As far as I know, only Dungeon Cores can harvest and store GP. Back in our Dungeon Core days, we used to transfer GP between each other all the time. It wasn¡¯t uncommon to beg Dungeon Master 00 for a bit of GP to enhance our domains. So, sure, I can accept the idea that GP can be transferred. But transferred by living beings? That¡¯s where it gets confusing. How would you even do that without killing the original owner? Maybe with a sigil¡­ an ancestral tree? I wondered. Eager to find the answer, White, Goblin, and I have been testing different methods. So far, we¡¯ve come up with nothing¡ªnot even the start of an answer to how he pulled it off. "Sigh¡­This is insulting," I complained. At my sigh, the blue-eyed white serpent perched on my shoulder turned to look at me. I responded to his gaze, "I''m talking about the fact that a madman like him was a better user of that authority than I am. It''s insulting." To be honest, as much as I hated the Argyrian Patriarch, part of me was looking forward to assembling a monster horde of my own, just like he did. With an army like that, I could¡¯ve conquered the world. But lacking the GP funds¡­ no world conquest for me. I heaved another sigh before declaring, "I think I¡¯m done now. I¡¯m going to go feed her. Wanna come?" I asked White. His answer was immediate. He slithered down my outstretched arm, coiled around the struggling wannabe-basilisk, and swiftly snuffed out its life. Dragging the limp body behind him, he followed me toward the flying whale¡¯s deck. Outside, clouds stretched endlessly around us. The whale drifted tiredly through the sky, flying at a speed far below its limit. The reason for the sluggish pace was simple¡ªthe massive remains of the Ferron Patriarch¡¯s flying fortress, strapped to its back. He had insisted it be airlifted home, no matter how impractical. As I walked along the deck, which resembled the serene yet imposing charm of a castle¡¯s backyard, she came into view. Veilleuse-19, my old and loyal wyvern, lay curled up in a corner, trying to make herself look smaller than she was¡ªthough her sheer size made that impossible. She wasn¡¯t alone. Standing beside her, and quickly noticing my approach, was someone who¡¯d been acting a little strange over the past few days: Aquaflora. She was, as it turned out, about to act strange again. While she didn¡¯t exactly leap out of her skin at the sight of us, her panicked expression gave her away, especially compared to the much more composed Honey standing beside her, tenderly patting Veilleuse-19.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Hi, you two," Honey greeted cheerfully. "Hi," I greeted back, unsure if that was the reason her Loong withdrew into invisibility. ¡°Hi,¡± Aquaflora echoed awkwardly. To her credit, she didn¡¯t attempt to make a hasty retreat, though she did take a cautious step back from Veilleuse-19. White, who had until that moment been coiled around our test subject, slithered off and left it on the deck. Without hesitation, Veilleuse-19, injured but ever the predator, spat a plume of fire onto the carcass, roasting it well past any conventional steak level before devouring it in a single gulp. ¡°Good girl,¡± Honey praised warmly, running her hand along Veilleuse-19¡¯s snout as the wyvern lowered her head. The battle Veilleuse-19 bravely joined me in had left her with terrible scars¡ªmost notably, the loss of her left wing. It had been torn clean off, leaving her grounded, her once-majestic flights reduced to distant memories. Since my return, I''ve made it my responsibility to feed her properly. She deserved that much after the bravery she had shown in that fight. Immediately after dealing with the Umbryan Patriarch, I set out to find someone who could heal her wing. Among us, there were those who could use healing magic¡ªmyself included¡ªbut none with the skill or power required to regrow a Prime¡¯s limb. The best we could do was stabilize her condition. Regrowing an entire limb demanded healing abilities on par with my elemental arcana, a level of mastery only a handful of individuals in the world could boast. If there was anywhere I¡¯d find someone capable of such a feat, it had to be where I was heading next. So, without waiting for the Ferron Patriarch¡ªwho was preoccupied with salvaging what remained of his floating fortress¡ªI made my way to the Aurian family territory. There, I wasted no time hunting down the newly spawned Aurian Matriarch, only to discover, much to my frustration, that no one in her domain had the ability I sought. Fortunately, when I reunited with the Ferron Patriarch, he mentioned he knew someone who could help¡ªbut that person was in his capital. Which meant that if I wanted to heal Veilleuse-19, she had to be transported all the way there. She¡¯d have to wait longer before she could once again soar through the skies where she belonged. The thought weighed heavily on me, filling me with guilt. "Did I ever tell you two? In the earlier portion of my life, I''ve had many steeds, and out of those many steeds, I''ve lost most of them¡ªmostly in tragic circumstances. Part of me began to think it was a curse or something until I met her. Back when I first rode her, I believed that like the steeds before her, she would die in an unfortunate accident. And as such, like I''d grown used to, I shouldn''t attach myself. Which is why I just named her Veilleuse-19, like the one that preceded her. But centuries have gone by since I first rode her. We''ve seen so much together. I think I would be genuinely devastated if I lost her." Glancing at Honey, I saw him nod in understanding, empathetically looking at Veilleuse-19. When I looked at Aquaflora, I thought, Hmm, no comment? Honey''s lack of comment felt natural, but hers felt restrained. What made her hold back from voicing a comment? It wasn''t hard to figure out. After all, she was staring directly at him¡ªWhite. "Are you afraid of him?" I asked directly, seeing no point in beating around the bush. Seeing how she hadn''t expected that question, I softened my tone. "Are you afraid of him?" I extended my arm for White to close in on Aquaflora. "Appearance aside, he''s pretty harmless, just so you know." "Harmless?" Aquaflora echoed, clearly struggling not to back off as White approached. The iridescent Loong she wore like a scarf bravely appeared, trying to act tough. But the facade almost instantly fell apart as he retracted into hiding upon meeting White''s gaze. "I think I''ve seen enough to know that he''s anything but harmless." "Alright, fair enough," I admitted, exchanging a glance with White. "So let me rephrase it. He may not be harmless, but he won''t harm you in any way." She didn¡¯t look entirely convinced. Noting something far off in the sky beyond the drifting clouds, I told Honey, "Could you go tell Goblin we¡¯re closing in on our destination? Let him know it¡¯s about time to quit partying." My words were as much for Honey as they were for White, who, with what could clearly pass as a nod, slithered toward Honey. Judging by his reaction, Honey was a little taken aback as White climbed up onto him. Though Honey had heard of White¡ªjust as he''d heard about Goblin being an elf, Bortz a Beastkin, and Lucy a demon¡ªthe two hadn¡¯t really interacted before. Honey knew of White¡¯s unique circumstances long before meeting him, but until now, they¡¯d barely crossed paths. After taking down the Umbryan Patriarch, Goblin, White, and I had gone straight to the Aurian lands and only returned yesterday. Since then, we¡¯d been busy trying to crack the Rule and Overrule authority, leaving no time for proper introductions. Not that White could speak, nor did Honey have a skill to transcribe his thoughts like Goblin or Bortz did. This moment might just be their first time interacting with one another. Watching as the two Dungeon Masters returned to the fortress, I turned to Aquaflora and smiled. "We''ve not talked much, you and I, since what happened back then." She silently acquiesced. "Got anything to say?" "To say? About what?" "I don''t know, you tell me. About how you''ve been feeling, about... you know," I teased. Fixing me with an annoyed glare, she spat, "If you''re asking how I feel about you plotting behind my back¡ªwho knows since when¡ªto overthrow not one, but two elven monarchs, the answer is simple. I¡¯m bummed. And you have no idea how much." "Ah," I winced. "Makes sense." Aquaflora was the last to learn about our plan to take down the Umbryan Patriarch and the Aurian Matriarch. She literally found out when we struck those she most likely still saw as allies. I couldn¡¯t really blame her for being angry. That one was kind of on me. "I''m bummed," she echoed, pinching the bridge of her nose as if nursing a headache. "At the same time¡ªsuch a low blow¡ªI wasn''t even surprised coming from you." Excuse me? I screamed internally. What was that supposed to mean? "Don''t pull that face at me," she said, clearly unimpressed. "You know I''m right." "That wasn¡¯t a low blow," I said, defending my honor that was unfairly defiled. "You''re saying you didn¡¯t backstab them?" "Yes," I nodded. "Our alliance was a temporary one, with the goal of taking down the Argyrian Patriarch. Him gone, there¡¯s no alliance anymore." With eyes that clearly judged me, Aquaflora shot back, "You literally gave your word to the Aurian Matriarch that she¡¯d get to keep the Nature Ancestral Tree the Argyrian Patriarch had in his possession as a payment for her cooperation." Welp. I¡¯d been hoping she¡¯d forgotten about that part. "Instead, what she got after helping you take down the Argyrian Patriarch was her coveted sigil being stolen by Goblin, only to be promptly assaulted by everyone. You didn¡¯t even stop at killing her once." "That''s..." Unable to counter her accusations, which were very much factual, I found myself backed to a corner. "Stop trying to justify this with me," Aquaflora said, "To be frank, I don''t really care." "Oh... you don''t?" I responded, surprised by the declaration. "Yes," she nodded. "I don''t think there''s anything about you killing them or stealing their Ancestral Tree to feel bad about. After all, that¡¯s how they operated. If anything, this is just karma at work, and I don''t mind you being the vessel through which it came around. But what pisses me off is..." She stalled mid-sentence, as if not wanting to say what she really felt in fear of the consequences. "What?" I probed, trying to be as gentle as I could. "No," she shook her head, denying it. "It''s nothing." Then, changing the subject, she asked, "So, what''s next? Who are we backstabbing next?" Seeing the obvious sarcasm, I didn¡¯t answer. I simply glared at her ominously until her face showed a hint of concern. "Pfft," I exploded in laughter. "What was that face for? I have no such plans for you." "That''s reassuring," she said, still sounding sarcastic, but I could tell she felt genuinely relieved. "If it helps you sleep better at night, I¡¯ll tell you this¡ªI¡¯ve got something coming up, and I¡¯ll be needing your help for it. So, if you think I¡¯ve got terrible plans for you, rest assured I won¡¯t do anything until we take care of that first." "From the sound of it, that¡¯s something I won¡¯t be able to say no to, huh?" "That¡¯s all up to you, I¡¯d say." Ever the more apprehensive, she asked, also partially curious, "What is it?" "You''ll know soon enough. Consider it a surprise. And before you say anything, I know my surprises aren''t the kind you''re fond of, but trust me, it¡¯s something you''re going to love doing with me. In fact, you might even feel thankful to me for involving you in this." She looked genuinely intrigued by what it could be but seemed to realize it was no use insisting, so she didn¡¯t bother. After about a dozen more minutes of light, less awkward banter, what I had sent White and Honey to inform Goblin about finally came into view. Beneath us lay the Umbryan capital¡ªnot the same one as before, but the newly erected capital further north of the ruins of the recently destroyed old capital. The barrier that was supposed to protect it from monsters or invaders was noticeably absent. Aquaflora, standing beside me, quickly picked up on it, her gaze shifting upward to what hovered high above the city. "A blue moon¡­" she murmured, glancing at me for an explanation. Taking note of the intact capital below, I smiled and said, "It seems the Argyrian Patriarch was much more reasonable with his decisions this time around." Chapter 47.1: Rule and Overrule I knew exactly what the elven monarchs'' escape plan would be. If I killed them as I intended, they¡¯d just be reborn through that last resort method of theirs. It made sense¡ªif I had a tool that convenient, I¡¯d use it too. That¡¯s why I had to make preparations. I had to ensure they died properly. Their existence couldn¡¯t be allowed, just like they never allowed the existence of monarchs who shared their affinities. That¡¯s why the Aurian capital became my first destination. And here second. But in the Umbryan capital, there was no need for me to do anything¡ªit had already been handled. As we descended to the palace, the one that obviously belonged to the former Umbryan Patriarch, it wasn¡¯t him who welcomed us. Instead, a tall, familiar figure stood there, flanked by twin demonesses. He was tall, his hair unnaturally white, and his red irises against his pale skin highlighted exactly what he was. There¡¯s a saying: ¡®Elegance is not bound by light nor virtue.¡¯ It couldn¡¯t have felt more accurate. The demon who greeted us was dressed in what could only be described as elegant. He came to a halt in front of me, silent, and extended his hand. I reached out, and he bowed, pressing his forehead against the back of my hand. ¡°It¡¯s been a while, Ma¡¯am,¡± Lucy greeted. ¡°Indeed,¡± I said with a wide smile, watching him raise his head. I reached out, touching a face I hadn¡¯t seen in nearly seventy years. He looked like a young man in his mid-twenties¡ªmaybe even younger with his smooth, beardless skin. But he¡¯d lived for over two hundred years. I knew that because I was there during his most vulnerable years, just like I had been for Goblin, Blondie, Bortz, and Charlie. As the seconds stretched, Lucy, whose face I was still holding, asked, ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°What?¡± I chuckled. ¡°Getting embarrassed being held like this now that you¡¯re a big boy?¡± He pulled back slightly. ¡°No,¡± he denied, then added in a much lower voice, ¡°It¡¯s just that I¡¯m an Archdemon now... As a monarch, I must project fear.¡± I laughed at that half-truth, half-excuse, letting go of the Archduke of Hell¡ªa monarch among the demon race. I waved hello to the familiar two demonesses behind him. ¡°I noticed the city is intact,¡± I remarked, stepping back. ¡°Patriarch Linh turned out to be a very reasonable leader. He understood that fighting would ultimately lead not only to his demise but to the suffering of his people.¡± ¡°It seems he truly was. I wish the Aurian Matriarch had been as cooperative.¡± At that moment, as he slithered up to him, White greeted Lucy too, unleashing a flurry of snake sounds. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re saying, but if it¡¯s that you missed me¡­ I missed you too.¡± ¡°Oh, and what about me?¡± a Goblin asked, stepping forward in his adult form. Lucy stared at Goblin, eyeing him up and down with an expression that clearly wondered, ¡°What¡¯s that form?¡± It made sense, this form is one that Goblin just very recently taken the habit of taking. Not commenting on it, Lucy closed on Goblin then whispered, ¡°I missed Blondie. I missed Bortz. I even missed Charlie and Frank. I missed everyone but you.¡± Being spat those words practically on his face, Goblin spat back, ¡°I didn¡¯t miss seeing your face either.¡± Then he suddenly pushed his forehead against Lucy¡¯s, laughing as he clung to him like a drunkard. ¡°Hehehe, just kidding. Of course I missed you, Lucy. I almost cried when Ma¡¯am told us you wouldn¡¯t join us for this.¡± ¡°Well, I wasn¡¯t sure I could make it, so¡­ can¡¯t really blame her for not predicting it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s so good to have you back, dude,¡± Goblin said with teary eyes as he clung to Lucy, completely tarnishing the image Lucy had claimed he was trying to project in front of his two subjects. ¡°Well, with everyone joining in, it would¡¯ve been a shame for me not to do my bit,¡± Lucy said, glancing at Bortz, Blondie, and Honey before adding with a self-deprecating chuckle, ¡°I didn¡¯t do much compared to all of you, but at least I did something.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s with plenty of obligations already,¡± I commented. ¡°Charlie and Frank would¡¯ve been thankful for just your presence alone.¡± Lucy nodded, then glanced at Honey and Aquaflora. ¡°I see new faces. I¡¯d appreciate introductions, but this isn¡¯t the place. Please, follow us in. I had the locals prepare a banquet to welcome you all.¡± Chapter 48: Collusion As Lucy suggested, after welcoming us, we were taken to a banquet he had arranged in the former Umbryan Patriarch''s palace. The room resembled the one where we first met the Umbryan Patriarch, but unlike the somber atmosphere back then, things were much livelier. "...Hm, I''m not sure though. So far, Blondie and I have explored only Lychantrope, Ursanthrope, Vulpianthrope, and Ophidianthrope territories," Bortz explained. "For the Ophidians, I don''t think that would count," Blondie remarked. Musing about it, Bortz admitted, "I guess they were more atypical nomads, so calling that a territory would be wrong." Turning to Honey, who had asked the question, Bortz adjusted his answer. "Forget about the last one. We''ve seen three main beastkin territories: one in the southern corner of the Beastkin continent, another further north and eastward, and the last one further north but heading northward this time." "Oh," Honey mused. "That''s interesting. And... um, how are the territories compared to one another?" "You''re asking how they''re different from each others.?" Honey nodded. "As an adventurer, I''ve heard a lot about Beastkin lands, but everything I heard is a vague description of how unfriendly that continent is." Exchanging a chuckle with Blondie, Bortz explained, "Technologically, for Lychantrope and Vulpianthrope populations, they''re at least several thousand years behind the land of men. Ursanthrope populations might be a little better, so I''d say 500 years behind. That''s me being generous." "The problem with them," Blondie took over, "is that each of the beast clans isolates itself in a corner. They don''t exchange anything with one another, don''t attempt to improve upon anything. They just perpetuate what''s there and remain stagnant as a civilization." "So, the same as elves?" Aquaflora, who''d been listening with interest, asked. At her words, Bortz and Blondie winced before simultaneously shaking their heads. "Perhaps they''re similar in how isolationist they are, but the reason behind that isolationism makes the situation of the elves and the beastkins very different," Bortz clarified. "For elves, what keeps them apart is pride¡ªthat of monarchs who can''t stand each other. In a sense, it''s also the case for the beastkin monarchs, but while elven monarchs see no point in fighting each other, beastkin monarchs and subjects alike will tear each other apart for no reason." "When they do have a reason, it''s because each clan believes they''re the only one that should exist," Bortz concluded. "Oh," Aquaflora murmured. "That really sounds like something else..." Blondie remarked, "We can say a lot about the elven monarchs, but compared to the monarchs in the land of the beastfolk, they were saints for their subjects." "Because of them, the whole beastfolk civilization is stuck in what I''d call primeval times. Combined with the already unfriendly fauna and flora, it''s a terrible combo for a continent to live on," Bortz remarked. Then, as if realizing how grim they sounded, he quickly added, "Oh, I''m not trying to dissuade you from visiting. Its sentient inhabitants and the terrible monsters roaming it aside, the Therian Territories are still a beautiful place to explore." "Fantastic scenery, areas of magical phenomena that, coupled with the weather, guarantee you some unique experiences. So, if you ever want to visit the Therian Territories, go for it," Blondie encouraged. "Just be properly prepared, though." "Yes," Blondie nodded. "Don''t go alone. Terrible idea." "Yeah, terrible idea." As much as the duo were trying to sell the Therian Lands to Honey, with how much they dragged the continent¡¯s name through the mud, he was clearly not interested anymore. "If you ever plan to visit the Therian Territories, just contact us. That''s where we''re active. We''ll show you around," Bortz offered. "We''re aiming to explore the whole continent thoroughly, but it''s a big place, so..." "You can even join us in doing that if you want," Blondie offered. Honey chuckled at the offer. "That''s a kind invitation, but I don''t think I can just say yes to that, at least not right now. But maybe one day." Given what the duo had just exposed about the Therian lands, Honey''s reservation made sense. As an adventurer, Honey''s established base was in the land of men. Had it not been for the unique circumstances he was stuck in and the urgency of our mission as Dungeon Masters, Dungeon Master 07 wouldn''t allow him to be here randomly. So, clearly, before saying yes to such an offer, he would first need to talk with Dungeon Master 07. Listening as the duo kept trying to redeem the image of the Therian territories, I noticed Aquaflora pulling on my sleeve before asking in a low voice, "I''ve noticed these two are getting along so well," she said, glancing at the other side of the table where the discussion was almost as lively as it was on this side. Across from my seat, next to Lucy, sat the Ferron Patriarch, who naturally joined us. "Do they know each other?" Aquaflora asked. "Yes," I nodded. "These two do know each other. How would they not, after all? They''re neighbors." "Neighbors?" Aquaflora echoed, finally putting the pieces of the puzzle together. She was a little slow, most likely because she wasn''t very familiar with the geography of the underworld, but as the saying goes, better late than never. "So that''s what he meant when he said that you were once a neighbor? Because you settled in the underworld." That wasn''t exactly true but not entirely wrong, so I just nodded. "As neighbors, the Ferron Patriarch and I looked out for each other, especially when it came to dealing with problematic neighbors," I smiled. "I helped him once deal with such a problem less than a century ago, so when I came to him with a proposition to deal with another set of problematic neighbors, what do you think his answer was?" "To come to your assistance in your ploy." "Bingo," I teased Aquaflora. "See? That''s a soon-to-hundred-year alliance without me ever stabbing him in the back. Just two allies, mutual respect, exchange of promises, and honoring each other''s services." Seeing what I was suggesting, Aquaflora only nodded before noticing the Ferron Patriarch staring straight at us. "Patriarch, is there a problem?" I asked. "I hope you''ll forgive me, but I heard my name and couldn''t help but glean in on your conversation. You talked about honoring each other''s service, and I couldn''t agree more on the fact that so far, our cooperation has never disappointed. Which is why I dare voice this demand: I want to revise our terms to account for the damage I sustained. You see, it was a very fancy artifact that I lost here, and it''ll cost me years to rebuild it with the proper manpower..." Seeing where this was going, I asked, "I''m assuming you''d want more than the fore-agreed 25,000, right?" At the mention, Aquaflora immediately frowned in dissatisfaction. She was familiar with the number, as it was the number of Argyrian elves the Ferron Patriarch desired as loot. Aquaflora was about to voice her refusal like she had back then, but I interrupted her mid-swing. "Calm down. I told you, didn''t I, that I discussed the terms with him? You won''t surrender any of your people to him." "Ma¡¯am''s right. You won''t surrender any of your people," the Patriarch confirmed¡ªbut it wasn''t the Ferron Patriarch. It was Goblin, now the Patriarch of the Aurian family, who added, "I''m the one who will." "Huh?"The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. At that moment, Aquaflora looked at me, and I looked back at her with a shrug. Completely ignoring Aquaflora, Goblin turned to the Ferron Patriarch. "So, Patriarch, how many more of ¡°my¡± people do you want?" Pretending to ponder the question, the eccentric patriarch said, as if it were the most reasonable thing, "100,000." Everyone at the table frowned at the outrageous demand. Going from 25,000 to 100,000 and making it sound reasonable was nothing short of absurd. "What?" "I think everyone here agrees that that''s quite a ridiculous leap, Patriarch," Lucy noted. "Had you suggested 30,000 or 35,000, I would have accepted right away, but 100,000?" I said on behalf of Goblin, who nodded in agreement. "What''s 100,000 compared to the Aurian family population, sure¡ª" "It''s not about that ratio, Patriarch. Had we agreed with it, I would have gladly given you half of the Aurian poulation for all I care. But you made your demand¡ª25,000. Asking for 100,000 Solvan elves is asking for four times what we initially agreed on. Surely you see where my dissatisfaction lies." Without much of a change in expression, the Patriarch dwelled on my words, then simply said, "I do see it." With a sigh, he announced, "Alright, I''ll bring it down to, let''s say, 50,000." "35,000." "Madam Arianna, now you''re the one being unreasonable," he sighed again before continuing. "45,000. And I''m not going any lower." "How about a little last effort? 40,000," I said enticingly. "That''s 60% more than we initially agreed on, Patriarch." Just like the Patriarch earlier said, 100,000 was not much if you considered the actual Solvan elven population. And as such, it was quite a miserable reward for his help. But here''s the thing¡ªthis was not a reward for his help. This was just a bonus he''d bargained after accepting my offer. His reward for this cooperation lay elsewhere entirely, and it was a generous reward. One that I am certain that if I pushed it, I could completely nullify this demand. That was how much that reward was important to him. He wouldn¡¯t¡ªnot for 100,000 Solvan elves, let alone 40,000. And I was proven right by his next adjustment. "25,000 children, 5,000 males, and 10,000 females. I believe I can agree with that." "Then we have terms," I declared, raising my glass to him, to which he and everyone at the table, except for one, responded by raising theirs as well. The one who didn''t was Aquaflora, who, while not happy about this whole arrangement, was reasonable enough to keep that to herself. Reaching for her hand, I reassured her. "Don''t worry. I told you, haven''t I? Patriarch Farmi is the one elf you should work with. These elves he will get from Goblin will be treated well." Clenching onto my hand, Aquaflora whispered, "I''m not sure about that, but at least they won''t be under his rule. That''s already one thing." Under whose rule? The answer was clear from who she looked at when saying that. "You still think that Goblin would make a terrible monarch? That might be the case if he became the Patriarch of the Argyrian family, but it''s not necessarily true with him as the head of the Aurian family." "You think?" Aquaflora moved her hand away. "Because the deal he just so casually raised his glass to makes me think that it won''t be all that different." "It''s because he understands how little of a concession it was, considering the grand scheme of things." "The grand scheme of things..." "Yes. You see this alliance through a limited lens." Saying it out loud for everyone at the table to hear, I explained, "This alliance between Patriarch Farmi and us wasn''t made just to usurp monarchhood from the elven monarchs or to help Patriarch Farmi get rid of two of his problematic neighbors. Those were means, and in some ways, ends. But ultimately, our alliance aims to get rid of a common enemy." "Which is?" Aquaflora asked. "The looming threat in Dwarven lands. The tyrant who once ruled over the land of men. The exiled emperor, who, with the help of his elven monarch ally ruling over the Arcane affinity and his army of mechanical constructs, brought the dwarven monarchs¡ªand by extension, the dwarven species¡ªto heel." This alliance, which essentially tied the Ferron Patriarch and us Dungeon Masters together, had two goals. For the Patriarch, it was about claiming his missing sigils. Unlike the other three elven monarchs of Quel''thalas, Patriarch Farmi controlled only half of the Artistic affinity¡¯s sub-affinity. The other half was in the hands of a fellow reincarnate and his elven ally, who wielded the Arcane affinity¡ªjust as the Argyrian Patriarch commanded the Elemental affinity, the Aurian Matriarch the Nature affinity, and the Umbryan Patriarch the Spiritual affinity. Like any elven monarch, the Ferron Patriarch dreamed of supremacy of control over his affinity. But to achieve that, the other wielder had to be removed from the equation. However, he knew that individual was under the protection of two powerful figures¡ªones he could never defeat alone. He needed allies¡ªstrong allies. But to whom could he ally himself to? His direct neighbors wouldn''t help, if anything they''d gladly screw him and his people over. So to who then? The question remained unanswered until we entered the equation." For us Dungeon Masters, our goal was to recover the authority that was in the Iron Overlord¡¯s possession. Ultimately, this alliance was forged to recover what we each firmly believed would be best in our hands. ¡°We are getting closer to our common goal of getting rid of the Iron Overlord and his allies,¡± I announced, rising from my chair. ¡°But as we draw nearer, we also approach the second greatest obstacle standing in our way after the elven monarchs. I speak, of course, of Emperor Cleon. For us to truly wage this war and see it through, he must fall.¡± Looking at the Ferron Patriarch, I added, "The earlier, the better." At these words, the patriarch frowned. I immediately understood what incorrect deduction elicited such a reaction. Chuckling, I explained, "Don''t worry, Patriarch. I wasn''t going to ask something as ridiculous as joining in the fight like I did the last time." "That''s a relief. I only joined you because my fortress just happened to be ready for a demo. But it''s completely destroyed now, and it''ll take me a while to get it repaired." "I understand... But still, I''m going to ask something of you. Just not that." "And what is it?" he asked, apprehensive. With a devious smile, I declared, "Nothing unreasonable."
A war against the Emperor was due, and with everyone sharing my table, I laid out my plans for the upcoming war. Have it be said that after detailing the strategy and establishing everyone¡¯s role in the war we were about to wage, we went through another round of bargaining between me and the Ferron Patriarch. Ultimately, we agreed on a price, and with that, the gathering came to an end¡ªat least, that one. Later that night, gathered in a closed room, were White, Lucy, Goblin, Honey, and me. In other words, inside the room were just us Dungeon Masters, for what was discussed here was meant only for Dungeon Masters. Right after I congratulated each of them for their individual efforts in recovering [Rule and Overrule], I gave them a secondary briefing of what was going to happen next¡ªa briefing that involved details too sensitive to reveal at the earlier table. "Ma''am," Bortz, who had been unusually quiet even back at the table, spoke up. "Are you sure you want us to not take part in it?" The eagerness in his voice was genuine. It was obvious that he was let down by my decision. But still, I held my ground. With a firm nod, I confirmed, "This war ahead is very different from the one we just won. We''re about to go against Cleon the One and Only, and while I might sound like I''m berating you, this is not a front you or Blondie belong to. I mean that with sincerity. To be frank, it¡¯s not a front that Goblin belongs to either, but..." "I''m a monarch now," Goblin flexed cockily. While still dissatisfied by the decision, Bortz swallowed his feelings, then with a sigh, nodded in resignation. Thanking him for accepting my decision, I announced, "Bortz and Blondie will return to the Therian Territories." Looking at the elegant demon in the room, I continued, "Lucy, as short as our reunion has been and as much as it pains me to say this, you will return to the Underworld. I think I''ve already overdone it by suggesting you join us for this." "No, I''m more than thankful that you took the care and time to invite me to contribute, however little it was." "Don''t undermine yourself. We both know what¡¯s going on in the Underworld and the risks you took just to be here. You surely don''t regret being here, and neither do I regret summoning you, but I can''t allow myself to ask for more than this." Lucy nodded in acceptance. In that moment, my attention went to the serpent resting on her shoulder. "We''re going to get separated again, but someone has to bring the Authorities back to safety. Now that I think of it, one of these shouldn¡¯t even be out here in the wild." Glancing at the red-haired young man, I added, "You''re not going to rat on me to Dungeon Master 07 about me using [Authority Gathering], are you, Honey?" "I have no intention of snitching anything," he declared with an innocent shrug. "However, it''ll be hard for me to explain to Dungeon Master 07 how you managed to so conveniently lure the Argyrian Patriarch all over Quel''thalas without mentioning that you''ve been using [Authority Gathering]. Because trust me, he''s going to ask about it¡ªin detail." Chuckling, I said, "I can''t contradict you on that... Well, since it''s inevitable, make sure to make it sound like I had everything under control, okay?" "Naturally," he grinned. "Alright, just as it''s been decided, you will return with White to the Land of Men. White will return the Authorities to Dungeon Master 00, while you, ideally after greeting Dungeon Master 00, will return to civilization and inform Dungeon Master 07 of our success. Have him set everything in motion for our arrival." "I will do just that," Honey affirmed. Then, his brow furrowed as some sudden realization dawned on him. "A problem?" I asked. "After you told me what you expected of me, I just realized something," he said, then a little dejectedly added, "While I still had one try left, I guess I have lost our bet." Have it be said that while it was a strange moment to bring that up, he was right. He lost the bet in which I challenged him to figure out, on his own and through three tries, why I insisted on bringing him here. He lost not because he failed to answer within the three attempts, but because I gave out the answer when delivering my detailed directives for him, as they made it clear why it was him. "It seems so indeed," I winced. Chapter 49: Alien On that very day, after a long night of partying that ironically felt far too short, we all tried to make the most of our time together, catching up on everything we had missed. Eventually, though, everyone departed for their respective destinations. White and Honey left for the land of men, Lucy and his twin demoness companions returned to the underworld, along with the Ferron Patriarch, whose capital was in the same direction. Aquaflora and Licht departed for their respective new capitals, each now a Patriarch and Matriarch. Even Veuilleuse-19 was gone, heading to the Ferron capital to receive the healing she needed. And so, I found myself alone in the Umbryan capital¡ªmy capital, as it could now be called, for in that moment, the ancestral tree that served as the city''s barrier was effectively mine. It¡¯s been a few months since that day. Most of my time has been spent poring over the remnants of what my predecessor left behind in his castle. Books, countless books, very different from what had been available to me in the land of men. These texts covered a variety of subjects, but I was drawn most to the history books. Not because I had a particular love for history¡ªfar from it¡ªbut because they were among the few elven-written works that weren¡¯t abstract poetry, fanciful calligraphy, or bestiaries. Thing is that most of the books in that library were written by humans. Only about a tenth of the collection bore elven authorship, and an even smaller percentage of those were historical texts. Yet, that small collection held enough content to keep me engaged. And entertained¡ªbecause, as it turned out, elves have a unique way of writing, even about something like history, where a certain degree of neutrality is typically expected. Whoever the authors of these books were, neutrality wasn¡¯t part of their repertoire. Their contempt for other families bled through every line. One could almost feel the disdain radiating from the pages whenever the author wrote about a family not their own. This made for an amusing reading experience, especially since each book came from a different author, aligned with a different family. Diving into one text was like immersing oneself in the grandeur and authority of one family, only to step into another book and be bathed in equally palpable scorn directed right back at the previous one. It was a cycle of ego-stroking and contempt, perfectly preserved in ink and parchment, and I found myself oddly enthralled by it. Putting aside the authors'' biases, I learned some fascinating information about Quel¡¯thalas, specifically about the elven monarchs who, across the millennia, tried to rule their own corners of the continent. There were many of them throughout elven history¡ªperhaps not in this last half-millennium, but in the earliest recorded days, numerous elven monarchs sought to establish their own domains with their families. For each monarch mentioned, the outcome was always the same: usurpation by someone stronger and the thorough extermination of their family. One has to say that genocide has been an inseparable part of elven history. Or at the very least, it was. The closer I got to the present in my reading, the fewer such genocides appeared. The explanation was rather simple: with the emergence of more ancestral trees¡ªmost under the control of a select few elven monarchs¡ªthere were fewer and fewer souls brave enough to manifest an ancestral tree of their own and found a family. In other words, there were simply fewer families to be exterminated. Today, a peculiar balance has been reached. There are no families left to annihilate, and no one is suicidal enough to try founding one, knowing what their fate would likely be. After about a month, I finished reading all the available history books. I tried diving into the other texts, but none captured my attention as the history books had. I briefly considered rereading them, but my good memory turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing in this case. With every detail still fresh in my mind, rereading felt redundant. So, I had to find a new hobby altogether. Eventually, I found one: exploring my capital. It was something Honey, Aquaflora, and I used to do when we were still trying to convince the Umbryan capital to accept our offer. It was a little lonely to do that on my own, but it was a distracting enough activity. There were large corners of the city I had technically ¡°yet¡± to visit, so for the past few weeks, I made it my routine to walk the streets of my capital. I dressed in an outfit that I believed would grant me the most discretion, which in this particular instance, involved something that would hide the feature that would immediately give my cover away¡ªnamely, my face and the length of my ears¡ªwithout being too conspicuous, as that would give me away. Circumstances were different now; I couldn''t afford to walk into the streets as I did back then with Honey and Aquaflora¡ªat least, not without consequence. If I were to be recognized now, I would immediately be flocked by elves bowing in reverence. The first time it happened, I believed it was because of my new status as the holder of the Obsidial Tree. But then I remembered¡ªthese people are clueless about these latest developments. Yes, the entire Umbryan population is unaware that their beloved Patriarch is no more. Thanks to Lucy, he¡¯s been usurped without making much of a fuss. They most likely sensed that something has changed, but ultimately, I don''t think they know that I''m the one who manifested the ancestral tree that serves as both a barrier and something more. They know me and worship me for another reason altogether¡ªbecause they recognize me as their savior, or the Binding Queen, as I heard some of them call me in reverence. I sat on a corner of a plaza built around a well. I liked the spot. I found it melancholic. It reminded me of the Path of Convergence in the portuary city of Miriandelle. "Savior, huh?" I mused, my voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder if they would still think of me as their savior if they knew the truth? Surely not¡ªthey¡¯d definitely hate me with all their soul." I stood there, rooted in my spot as people came and went, drawing water from the well. After a while, feeling a bit parched, I decided to quench my thirst. Leaning over the well, I drew up a bucket and took a deep sip. That¡¯s when I noticed¡ªout of the corner of my eye¡ªa presence that didn¡¯t initially register. But after a couple of seconds, it hit me, and I almost choked on my water. "You¡¯re alright, miss?" asked the man standing nearby. There was nothing particularly special about him¡ªat least, that¡¯s what I thought at first. But as memories flooded back, I recognized the man. My heart pounded in my chest like I¡¯d been startled, but I quickly pulled myself together. "I¡¯m alright," I replied, wiping my mouth. "But one of these days, I¡¯m going to inadvertently assault you again." "What might you be talking about, miss?" he responded, feigning ignorance. "I already figured it out, so spare me the act." I narrowed my eyes at him. The man kept pretending for a moment longer, but soon enough, he gave up the act, a devious smile curling on his lips. "You think I¡¯m joking, but next time you pop up on me, I might really unintentionally attack you. And you better not blame me for that." He chuckled dryly, raising his cane slightly before bringing it down against his foot with a soft tap. "Since you wanted me to stop pretending, let¡¯s not pretend that if you ever do that, it won¡¯t be because of the surprise, but rather because you want to." "And why would I want to do that?" "I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve always been very harmless to you, yet somehow I feel like you want to kill me." "Harmless, huh?" "Name one thing I¡¯ve ever done against you." I looked him straight in the eyes, and though I knew it was dangerous to confront someone like him, I said, "You killed Veilleuse, and you¡¯re always creeping around like a venomous snake." For years, I¡¯d gone on with my life thinking that my first-ever steed¡ªthe one I¡¯d stolen from the Wei? stable¡ªVeilleuse, had been killed in retaliation, or perhaps out of pure malice, by the bandits who came back to collect their due in that small village. But after slaughtering them, I never got a confession, which made me question if it had really been them. I remembered hallucinating seeing this man back then, but for a time, I chose to ignore that detail. However, as I met him again and pieced together where I¡¯d seen him the first and second times, it became clear: he was the one who killed Veilleuse, not the bandits. As if amused by the accusation, he defended himself with a casual shrug. "First of all, I didn¡¯t kill your horse. What point would there be for me in doing that? None, considering what I am, right? The one who did kill your horse, however, was the one I usurped back then. He wanted your help since you seemed capable of dealing with his village¡¯s little problem, and the only way he could think of to get your attention was to kill your horse and blame it on the bandits. So he did."This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. He paused, then added, "As for me creeping up on you¡ªI don¡¯t do it on purpose. Though I admit, you and I have crossed paths more than once." "So you¡¯re saying it¡¯s just coincidence?" "Yes." "So was it coincidence that the Argyrian Patriarch was so intent on finding the wielder of [Rule and Overrule]?" This was my sevehth interaction with him. The first had been when he posed as the village elder. The second time, we met on the grand steps leading to the local Byg''m?k temple of the city of Ashhold, right after he¡¯d finished asking for directions from Dungeon Master 09, posing as a random old man. I¡¯d had many similar experiences over the years where he appeared like a ghost, always with the same face. Yet, somehow, my brain never associated him with any prior memory. Worst of all, I¡¯d immediately forget about the encounter once it was over which is weird since forgetting isn¡¯t something I ever do. The last time, when this random man with a cane popped up on me, I finally realized I¡¯d seen him seven times before. I acted on my immediate, most primal instincts and came to realize that I was dealing with something far beyond what I was used to. "You¡¯re thinking it was I who sent the Argyrian Patriarch after that authority wielder?" Goblin and I had once discussed how suspicious the timing and circumstances were around the Argyrian Patriarch''s interference in his mission to recover the authority. It was clear the Patriarch was after something specific, something he believed was in the possession of the little boy¡ªthe very boy Goblin and the others had only recently managed to tame. That boy became the Patriarch''s first victim. Yet, ironically, if the Authority truly was his aim, it was no longer in the boy¡¯s possession. Goblin, Charlie, Blondie, and Bortz had already seized it from its very unstable wielder, and using it, they attempted to put down the Patriarch¡ªan attempt that resulted in the sacrifice of Frank and Charlie and left the Argyrian Patriarch in a maddened state. Back when I talked to Goblin about how suspicious the overall timing was, I didn¡¯t remember "his" existence. I couldn¡¯t connect "him" to the incident. Now, with my memories restored, I have no doubt¡ªhe is my prime suspect. Staring practically into my soul, the man smiled. "Alright, I guess I owe you that much for the trouble. Yes, you''re right. ''I'' ¨C and by ''I'' I don''t mean the one whose identity I currently usurped, but me as an entity ¨C sent the Patriarch after him." Apprehensively, I asked, "You wanted him to acquire the authority?" "Was I not believable enough last time when I told you that I have nothing to compete against you and your kin? He shook his head, then sighed. "Trust me or not, I did not send him to recover the authority¡ªat least, that wasn¡¯t my goal when sending the argyrian patriarch over there. I sent him to get rid of someone I believed had to go. The clash between your people and him over authority was just an unfortunate turn of events." At these words, I winced then with even more apprehension, I asked, confused, "You wanted him to kill the child? Why?" "I can certainly answer that, but would you believe my response? Because it¡¯s a very unconvincing answer, I have to concede that myself." "I''ll do my best to believe you..." "Well, then..." he announced, before telling me, eyes staring deep into my soul, "I just believed he¡¯d been through enough. I felt pity for him, so I thought, out of pure goodwill, why not put an end to his misery? He¡¯s been through a lot¡ªfirst dying so young, so innocent, before getting to experience anything worthy. Then being sent to that place¡ªI believe your kind call it hell¡ªonly to be thrust into this alien world with a power he only had the vaguest concept of use of. That¡¯s enough to break the toughest of minds. For something as fragile as his, I couldn¡¯t help but feel... what¡¯s it called again? Empathy." "Empathy," I echoed. I was no saint. I was aware that, to most, I seemed to be withdrawn from aspects of humanity that defined being humane, such as empathy. To the common people, I was somewhat alien, and they were right to think so. But right now, I felt like I was the mundane one facing the alien. I¡¯d always felt that in his presence. The fact that he could mess with my memory and senses was plenty of reason to see him as alien. But listening to him talk about his own version of empathy¡ªspeaking of this advanced knowledge as if it were common¡ªmade me wonder just how much more he knew. "Just what are you?" I asked. One thing was obvious about him¡ªhe wasn¡¯t an entity recognized by the system. Most likely because he didn¡¯t operate through the system like authorities do. Proof of that lay in an encounter less than a hundred years ago when I was still active in the underworld. I stumbled upon him and actually remembered him. My reaction was violent. Thinking back, it could¡¯ve cost much more than it was worth, but it allowed me to establish the reality that this¡ªwhatever he actually is¡ªis not something to mess with. And I don¡¯t say that in the same way monarchs are not to be messed with. Against monarchs, I still have my pride. When facing him, all semblance of pride is curbed. There¡¯s only pretense left for me. Seeing him leave my question unanswered, I probed further. "Are you something like K.R.U.L?" We¡¯d had our interactions with divinity¡ªnothing like the divine the monarchs of this world claim to be. True divinity. That interaction came through Mighty K.R.U.L. "Me?" he said, amused. "No. What an abundant imagination you have there. But no, I¡¯m not something like K.R.U.L¡ªor as you and your kin call him, Mighty K.R.U.L." Tsk. He knows even that! Only us Dungeon Masters refer to him that way. Just what in this world does he not know? "Are you a god?" "What¡¯s next? Are you going to ask me if I¡¯m the Goddess you and your kin venerate?" "I do not know much about her, but I do know that she''s not you. She can''t be you." "That much is obvious. I may represent a lot, but I have nothing of an entity representing corruption," he said, stepping aside to allow two female elves to draw water from the well. It was like they''d been put under a spell¡ªthey didn¡¯t seem to notice the obvious. They saw my face and simply proceeded as if nothing was out of the ordinary. They saw his face¡ªfar more atypical than mine¡ªwith silver hair and uncharacteristically blue eyes for an Umbryan elf. Moreover, he was dressed in a style that reminded me of the Ferron Patriarch¡¯s fashion¡ªan outfit that stuck out like a sore thumb. Yet, like they''d just seen fellow Umbryan elves, they drew their water and left, leaving me alone with him once again. He added, "Come on, don''t look at me like that. I didn¡¯t answer your question for your own sake. I have no satisfying way to explain to you what I am. It¡¯s best for you to just think of me as... an alien." "An alien..." "Yes, something beyond comprehension. He pointed at me, "¡ªyour comprehension. So really, no point in explaining something you can''t understand, right? Let''s do this instead: make peace with it, and I''ll answer another of your questions, whatever it is, so long as I have the answer." "In exchange for what?" "Nothing. This is just me trying to reward you for your hard work here in Quel''thalas. You know, I really felt bad for Charlie and Frank. They didn¡¯t deserve what happened to them, so I want to right that wrong with an answer to the question of your choice." While I wanted to believe that, for I firmly believe that for something like him, there was no point in lying. But playing tricks¡­ I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was something fishy about his sudden benevolence. And, fairly enough, it didn¡¯t take me long to figure out what it was. "The answer you''re going to give me¡­ I''m not going to remember it, am I?" That''s how it¡¯s always been with him. There was no reason to think it would be any different this time. "I''m not even going to remember you exist." "Such is my nature," he said, with a hint of mischief. "But I''m willing to make an exception, though it won¡¯t be free¡ªat least not entirely." "What do you me¡ªwant?" "Just to make a bet with you." "A bet..." "What you want to ask me, you want to share with your kin, right? It''s pointless if you just learn and almost immediately forget about it. So here''s what I propose: you take my bet, you ask me your question, and I give you your answer. You will forget about the answer, but if I win the bet, I¡¯ll allow you to remember my answer¡ªand, by extension, my existence. If I lose, well, you''re never going to remember my answer." The way he voiced the terms was very concerning. "What exactly are we betting on here?" A devious smile spread across his face. "Your defeat or victory." My defeat or victory¡­ against who? The answer came naturally¡ªagainst Cleon. My frown deepened as I realized what the true terms were. "So you lose if I win against Cleon, and you win if I lose against Cleon. That''s the deal, right?" He nodded. Reasonably displeased by those terms, I contested, "Those terms guarantee me a loss no matter how you look at it. I''m going to win against Cleon, but your terms guarantee that I''ll never remem¡ª" I stopped mid sentence as a realization struck me. "So much confidence. Are you that certain of your victory already?" I barely registered his last sentence, for I just came to the realization that this bet is going to be fought by a clueless version. From the smile he conjured, it seemed that the bet was indeed going to be battled the way I figured it was going to be fought. By a version of me unaware of the stakes at hand. That meant, regardless of the decision I made here, the outcome couldn¡¯t be manipulated to make him win or lose. That¡¯s assuming, of course, that the answer he was going to give me was even worth considering letting him win¡ªbecause letting him win would literally mean allowing myself to die against Cleon. "Can we discuss the terms of the bet?" He shook his head. "We can discuss withdrawal." "Does withdrawal mean that you won''t answer any question?" "What do you think it mean?" I sighed heavily, thinking about my next course of action. I could either accept the bet or withdraw. But withdrawing would give me no reward, as I wouldn¡¯t learn anything and would forget everything once he left. The former option would guarantee me an answer to my question, even if I forgot it almost immediately after. From here on out, the question was whether or not I¡¯d be able to access that answer again and make use of it. But as I¡¯d come to realize earlier, the outcome wasn¡¯t something a clued version of me would have control over. After a dozen or so seconds of contemplation, I made my decision. "I take the bet." "I expected that from the first-ever person to remember my true face." Smiling, he added, "I hope I win this bet. I really want you to remember me. Each moment I share with someone is like grains of sand slipping through their hands¡ªthere for an instant, then gone, leaving no trace behind. It''s a little lonely, you know." "Is that the kindest way you found to put it¡ªthat you want to see me lose?" "I was only trying to appeal to your empathy, but well, I suppose yes. Anyway, since you agreed, I suppose it¡¯s time for me to answer your question. So, what will it be, Dungeon Master 08?" Chapter 50: Declaration of war Inside a grand hall, a polished oak table stretched nearly the entire width of the room, adorned with platters of sumptuous delicacies: roasted game, fresh bread, and fruits so vibrant they seemed plucked from the heavens themselves. The midday sun filtered through the stained glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the room. At the head of the table sat a tall man, a crown perched atop his head. Despite the bustling activity around him, the crowned man¡¯s focus was singularly fixed on the meal before him. The roasted venison, tender and glistening with a honey glaze, beckoned to him. He carved into it with eagerness, savoring the aroma that rose with each slice. But as much as he tried to lose himself in the meal, the noise at the center of the hall was impossible to ignore. A troupe of buffoons had taken the floor, reenacting a tale all too familiar to him¡ªthe story of howEmperor Cleon ascended to his current throne with the help of his first Kings: King Tristan, King Lance, and King Dominic. Not only had he seen this performance countless times, but he had also lived through it as Tristan¡ªKing Tristan. Annoyance flickered in his eyes as he watched the play. He would have much preferred to watch dancers moving gracefully across the floor. However, calling for dancers would be inappropriate at the moment. He sighed and glanced around the table. Over a dozen children and youngsters sat with him, their cheerful chatter and laughter filling the room. They weren¡¯t his children, nor his grandchildren, nor even his great-grandchildren. They were descendants so distant that he could scarcely trace the bloodline that connected them. Yet, they bore his family name and called him "Grandpa Tristan," obligating him to act with consideration. That was the curse of a long life. Soon, it would be a millennium since he had been given the crown he now bore. He had outlived his wife, his children, and even his grandchildren. These distant descendants, with only a fraction of his blood running through their veins, were all that remained of his family. He loved them, of course, but their presence was a constant reminder of the passage of time and all he had lost. The buffoons pressed on with their performance, recounting the tale of Cleon the One and Only and the first kings. Tristan clenched his jaw as the inaccuracies piled up. The troupe wove a fanciful tale of camaraderie and unity that had never existed in those early days. Their depiction of Lance and Dominic as his jovial companions was laughable. The truth was far more complicated¡ªand far less romantic. Back then, they had been rivals. Enemies, even. It was only much later, after they were crowned kings, that something resembling friendship began to take shape. And though Tristan would never say it aloud, those centuries together became some of the best of his long life. Nostalgia initially swept over him, but it was quickly replaced by a sudden pang of anger. The bitter realization struck him: he could never go back to those days. Cleon wouldn¡¯t allow it, and even if he did, the one person he wished to share those memories with was long gone. Dominic¡ªhis old rival, his fellow king, and eventual friend¡ªwas gone. He had been killed senselessly by a lunatic. The thought of how the witch responsible had escaped with little to no consequences ignited a dark fury that bubbled to the surface. Tristan¡¯s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles whitening as rage coursed through him. His other hand clenched into a trembling fist, struggling to suppress his anger. He hadn¡¯t realized how lost he was in his thoughts until a sharp, frightened wail shattered his reverie. He turned to see a small child sitting beside him, no older than three, staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. The boy''s trembling lips quivered before he burst into tears. Tristan''s dark, tense expression had frightened him. "Oh no, darling!" The child''s mother¡ªone of Tristan''s many descendants¡ªswept the boy into her arms. She cradled him close, her voice soft and soothing. "Shhh, it¡¯s alright, sweetheart. There¡¯s nothing to be scared of." She shot Tristan a quick look¡ªreproach tinged with concern¡ªbefore focusing on her son. Guilt washed over Tristan. "I¡ª" he began, but the woman cut him off with a shake of her head. "There, there," she cooed to the child. "Grandpa didn¡¯t mean to scare you. Right, Grandpa?" "Yes, of course," Tristan said, his voice softest as possible. "Grandpa was just deep in thought," she explained to the boy, her tone light and playful. "Sometimes powerful grown-ups like Grandpa forget to be gentle." The boy sniffled, his tears slowing. His mother set him back in his chair, patting his head reassuringly. Tristan forced himself to smile, adopting an air of exaggerated gentleness to reassure the child. He pushed aside the dark thoughts that had consumed him, focusing instead on the cheerful chaos of the table. The buffoons¡¯ performance continued, recounting how Tristan was one of the last remaining first kings. The troupe waxed poetic about Tristan''s enduring reign and the stability he had brought to his kingdom¡ªa subject Tristan finally agreed with. In recent centuries, kings seemed to come and go with alarming frequency. It was ridiculous how, compared to the first generation of kings under Cleon, over the past couple of hundred years, kings were so frequently replaced. One example that came to mind was Young Alexander, whose rule barely lasted two centuries before he vanished from the surface of the land of men. This raised the question: where had he gone? Some said he ventured into the forbidden dwarven lands; others rumored he sought the elven kingdoms. Yet another tale claimed the fool had entered that dungeon¡ªthe Voidborn Catacomb. Which of these rumors was true, Tristan did not know. But the speed with which the Emperor replaced the fool and his royal family was a clear sign that he was dead. Foolish¡ªtruly foolish. Alexander should have stayed put. Now everything he had built for himself and his dynasty was gone, replaced by someone swift to exterminate every trace of him. Now that he thought of it, the one who replaced Alexander had not only been quick at playing his cards but also skilled. Though Tristan had yet to see the man with his own eyes, he had heard praiseworthy things about him from various sources. This new king, Dorian, intrigued him. Hopefully, this Dorian would do a better job than his predecessor, Tristan mused.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. As he reached for his cup, a deep rumble echoed through the hall. At first, it was faint, like distant thunder, but it grew stronger with each passing second. The wooden beams of the ceiling creaked, and the crystal glasses on the table rattled ominously. It didn''t stop there. The ground beneath them trembled. The laughter and chatter stilled as heads turned toward one another, confusion giving way to alarm. Plates shifted, and one or two toppled over, spilling their contents. "What in the world¡ª" someone began, but their words were cut off as a sharp jolt sent the table lurching slightly. Goblets tipped, wine spilling across the pristine tablecloth like spreading blood. A child screamed, followed by another, then another, clutching their mothers¡¯ or fathers¡¯ arms, as panic rippled through everyone in the room. Chairs scraped against the floor as people stood, some instinctively moving toward the walls for stability. "Stay calm!" King Tristan, seated at the head of the table, commanded, his voice steady but firm. "Everyone, remain seated!" The trembling intensified, the chandelier swaying dangerously above. Dust trickled from the ceiling beams, and the distant sound of something heavy crashing in another part of the castle echoed, then another, then another. Boom! Boom! Boom! Then the next was no longer distant¡ªit was upon them, obliterating the ceiling. The ceiling crumbled with a deafening roar. With rapid reflexes, King Tristan activated a magical dome, protecting everyone in the room from the collapsing debris. With a sharp, controlled motion, he drew upon his elemental power, summoning a burst of wind and lightning that surged outward, scattering the debris harmlessly to the edges of the hall. The dust began to settle, revealing the frightened faces of everyone beneath his protective shield. Children clung to their parents, their screams piercing through the fading din, while adults stood pale and trembling, their eyes darting toward the destruction above. "Is everyone alright?" Tristan called out, his voice steady but urgent. His gaze swept the room, noting the cluster of children sobbing in their parents¡¯ arms and the stunned expressions of the adults. He took a deep breath. "Stay calm," he said, his tone firm but reassuring. "You¡¯re safe now." In that moment, one of his adult ¡®grandchildren¡¯ rushed to his side, asking, "What¡¯s happening, Grandfather?" "How do you expect me to know? I don¡¯t know yet." He turned to her and the rest of their family. "Stay here." With a wave of his hand, he conjured another protective barrier around them, layering it with reinforced energy. "I¡¯ll find out what¡¯s causing this." Without waiting for a response, he activated his ¡°flight¡± skill, a surge of wind lifting him off the ground. He shot upward through the gaping hole in the ceiling, his eyes narrowing as he ascended into the open air. Above the capital, the sky was a swirling chaos of frozen white clouds, unnaturally dense and glowing with an eerie light. His breath caught as he saw the source of the destruction¡ªwhite meteors, streaking down from a massive magic circle etched high in the clouds. Each impact sent shockwaves rippling through the castle below. "What in the¡ª" Tristan began, his voice trailing off as he squinted into the distance. Something caught his eye on the northern horizon, and his heart skipped a beat. Whales. Not one. Not two. Not three. Half a dozen whales, their massive forms gliding effortlessly through the sky as though submerged in an invisible sea. They moved with an unnaturally serene grace that made him initially forget what they were¡ªmonsters. No whale was that large, and no whale could fly in the sky like these creatures did. Narrowing his eyes, he focused on the fortresses atop the giant whales¡¯ backs, activating his eagle vision skill to scrutinize the details. "Elves?" he muttered, his stomach twisting. "An elven atta¡ª" A sharp hiss cut through the air, and his instincts screamed. Tristan twisted his body midair, narrowly dodging a blinding projectile that zipped past him, close enough to sear his cheek. "What the¡ª!" Before he could fully recover, another assault came, striking him squarely in the chest. The force hurled him backward through the sky, the impact rattling his bones and knocking the air from his lungs. He spun wildly for dozens of meters, struggling to regain control, until finally, he managed to halt his momentum, hovering in place. As he caught sight of the silhouette of his assailant, his heart skipped a beat. It was a very familiar silhouette, one that, before she decided to do something no other King before dared to do, he once considered a fellow king. "Hello, old man Tris," she greeted, her voice dripping with mockery as her gaze locked onto him. The casual tone was like a dagger twisting in his chest. Tristan¡¯s fists clenched, his knuckles white as rage surged through him. "You..." he seethed at the sight of the one responsible for the death of his closest friend, his voice low and trembling with restrained fury. Arianna was smiling. A wide, toothy grin that carried no warmth, only malice. "Missed me?"
[Hex Components Harvested] Standing over the corpse of the one known as the First King, I proceeded to tear the head from the rest of the body. Raising my gaze, I saw two elves of Argyrian descent descending upon me. It was Goblin and Aquaflora. As they reached the ground, Aquaflora frowned and asked with concern, "Is this really necessary?" Handing her the head despite her reservations, I brought the headless corpse to Goblin''s feet for his bonded creatures to clean everything up. "I know you think this is in poor taste. And I agree, to some extent. I¡¯m all for respecting the remains of the deceased, but the last time I left a King¡¯s corpse intact, it was stolen by someone." The memory stung. I had sent it as a message for Cleon, but it had never reached its destination. Initially, I suspected someone close to Cleon, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed likely that the remains had ended up in the hands of some necromancer. That thought infuriated me. "I''d rather feed him to friendly creatures than let some random, unknown necromancer take advantage of my game," I said firmly. Retrieving the head that I handed to her, I added, "as for this, it¡¯s for my personal collection of regal skulls." Sighing in exasperation, Aquaflora replied, "I wasn¡¯t even talking about this when I asked if it was necessary. I was talking about that." She pointed at the floating whales that, like modern warships, were unleashing volleys of elemental attacks upon the capital¡ªspecifically targeting anything showing the faintest hint of resistance. I had to admit, these improved whale fortresses provided by the Ferron Patriarch were highly effective. "We¡¯ve got aerial warships; we have to use them somehow," Goblin interjected, his tone oddly pragmatic as he withdrew his bestial summons. "Goblin is right," I agreed. "We have to use them, even if it¡¯s a little overkill. Why? Because it sends a message. Do you know who I want to send that message to?" "The Emperor Cleon," Aquaflora answered. "Exactly. And what message is it?" "A declaration of war." "Indeed," I affirmed. "Seizing the capital of the Dawnrealm Kingdom and slaying its king is our declaration of all-out war against the One and Only Emperor and his Kings." Interlude In the coastal city of Mirriandelle, the second most important city in the kingdom of Eldoria despite not being a Ducal city, a thriving port had secured its prominence. Its bustling docks, among the two most active on this side of the world, attracted merchants, nobles, and adventurers alike. These groups, along with sailors and the remnants of the now-diminished Handlers profession, formed the backbone of the city¡¯s prosperity. The rise of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, a trustworthy alternative to the old Handler system, had further cemented Mirriandelle¡¯s status. With adventurers hunting bandits as a paid activity, the once-plaguing issue of banditry had been eradicated, ensuring the safe passage of goods and enriching the city¡¯s trade. Wherever a city thrived, the construction of castles and temples followed. Mirriandelle was no exception. The first castles and temples dedicated to the kingdom¡¯s three deities were built during its earliest days. Over time, the temples expanded alongside the city, but none grew as grand as the Byg''m?k temple, which from its inception was designed to be monumental. Now the city¡¯s largest structure, it stood as a symbol of faith and prosperity. Deep within this very temple, in a highly secretive room, seven individuals of great importance gathered around a round table. The tension in the air hinted at a long and arduous discussion nearing its conclusion. "Well then, gentlemen, I believe we have a deal," a red-haired young man declared, glancing to his left and right. To his left sat three kings, their gazes piercing. Despite their intimidating presence, Licht, the red-haired young man, remained unfazed. He had seen more intimidating people in his life. These men were King Lance, ruler of the Evermere Kingdom and one of the first kings; King Floren, the newly crowned ruler of Eldoria; and Dorian, the youngest of the trio, who had replaced the missing king of the Waldow Kingdom. Licht smiled warmly, addressing them, "We have terms, right?" The kings nodded in agreement. Satisfied, Licht turned to the trio on his right. This group was no less imposing, though for different reasons. High Reverend Micah, a stern-looking middle-aged man with gray-golden hair and hazel eyes, sat in his black priestly robes adorned with the emblem of the Keysbr¨¹gr faith. Beside him was Paladin Lucius, a golden-haired man in his early thirties, whose relaxed demeanor belied his title as Custodian Paladin and Divine Emissary of the Byg''m?k faith. The last figure, childlike in appearance, was the most intriguing, for he looked no older than nine. And yet he was, without a doubt, a centuries-old angelic being, titled by the Seraphim of Peace as the "Most Beautiful Angel." Failing to suppress a warm smile once he looked directly at the angel, Licht swallowed and declared, "Since I¡¯ve heard no objections from the representatives of the faith, I assume the terms are acceptable to you as well." The trio exchanged apprehensive glances before nodding, thus concluding the secret meeting.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. The first to leave were the three kings, who departed hastily, leaving Licht with the faith representatives. As High Reverend Micah prepared to leave, he paused and addressed Licht, his tone laced with disappointment and disdain. "To think you¡¯d end up working for her instead of anyone else." Licht had anticipated this moment. Bowing his head slightly, he replied, "I understand your disappointment, Your Grace. I feel I¡¯ve betrayed your trust by choosing her after promising to consider your offer. However, this is the path I must follow, as it aligns with what I truly am at heart¡ªan adventurer." The High Reverend sneered. "What a shame." "Indeed, Your Grace," Licht said solemnly. "But I believe our paths will cross again. It would be an honor to work with your faith in the future to rid the world of the terrible plague that dungeons are." The High Reverend Micah sneered once more. "I suppose, between dealing with you or her, you¡¯re the more reasonable choice." Turning to leave, he added, "Tell her we will not interfere in her folly. But before she throws her life away, ensure she teaches you thoroughly how to exterminate dungeons." Nodding respectfully, Licht watched as the High Reverend exited. He then turned to the two remaining figures. The archangel smiled warmly at Licht before leaving without a word. Moments later, a silver-haired girl entered the room, closing the door behind her. Paladin Lucius, now speaking with a different tone, remarked, "As Micah said, it¡¯s surprising you ended up working with her. We spent years ensuring you wouldn¡¯t get involved with her because of how dangerous it was, only for this to happen. It¡¯s almost as if she planned it." "She definitely planned it," Licht admitted with a wince. It had taken her explanation for Licht to realize why she specifically requested his presence for their quest to retrieve the Rule and Overrule Authority. She didn¡¯t need him, at least not for that mission. This is what she needed him for. She wanted him to inherit the knowledge that had made her unique¡ªa knowledge so significant that it allowed her to operate freely, unchallenged, for years in the land of men. This knowledge was the secret to exterminating dungeons, something she had never shared with anyone who isn¡¯t a dungeon master. Lucius sighed. "Well, at least it¡¯s not the worst of outcomes. Being chosen for this means that from here on out you¡¯ll be protected from both the faith and the emperor¡¯s lackeys, no matter the result of all this." Noticing Lucius¡¯s concerned expression, Licht asked, "Do you think she might fail?" Lucius grimaced. "Far be it from me to doubt her planning abilities. She¡¯s proven herself time and again. But I know her well enough to recognize her flaws. She can be stubborn and impatient." "Stubborn... impatient," Licht echoed, struggling to reconcile these traits with his perception of her. "Do you think she¡¯s rushing things?" Lucius shook his head. "She¡¯s learned to control those impulses over the years. Otherwise, she wouldn¡¯t have survived this long. I trust she¡¯ll take the necessary precautions to avoid failure. Still, I can¡¯t help but feel the timing is too aggressive, even for her. The worst part is I know what¡¯s most likely driving her urgency, and it¡¯s not something I can veto against." It took Licht a moment to understand what Lucius was referring to, and once he did, his mood darkened. Sensing this, Lucius patted his shoulder and sighed. "Forgive me. I didn¡¯t mean to be so pessimistic. Let¡¯s be optimistic and pray to the Goddess that everything goes as she so thoroughly planned." "Yes," Licht agreed. "Let¡¯s hope for that." Chapter 50: Today is the day A hum I was all too familiar with echoed through the fortress. Standing in the grand kitchen, I decided¡ªafter a long hiatus¡ªto cook something myself. I found myself wondering what I could create with the array of ingredients at my disposal. After a minute of back-and-forth deliberation, I settled on preparing a feast inspired by the world we Dungeon Masters hail from. It would be reminiscent of a classic coq au vin, but crafted with ingredients native to Fiendfell. First, I gathered my ingredients: a large chicken that I''d ordered the servants to butcher¡ªbecause the food was that fresh¡ªpluck the feathers off before bringing it to me, a handful of pearl onions, a few strips of salted pork, wild mushrooms, several cloves of garlic, and a bottle of deep red wine freshly ransacked from the last city we invaded. A bunch of fresh thyme tied with twine and a few bay leaves would be my herbs of choice. I began by lighting the hearth, setting fire to the stacked wood beneath the iron cauldron manually like a peon would as I hadn''t unlocked any fire-related skills that would let me do something as convenient as igniting it with a flick of my finger. As the flames took hold, I placed a heavy skillet over them. Into the skillet went the salted pork, which I had cut into lardons. They sizzled and rendered down into a crisp, golden brown, their fat coating the bottom of the skillet. Once the lardons were set aside, I dredged the chicken pieces in a light dusting of flour seasoned with salt and pepper. The chicken, now coated, was added to the hot pork fat, turning golden as I seared each piece to crisp perfection. Once browned, these too were removed and set aside on a wooden platter. Into the remaining fat went the pearl onions, peeled and whole. I stirred them around until they were bronzed and slightly soft, then added the crushed cloves of garlic and the mushrooms, which had been cleaned and quartered. The earthy aroma of garlic and mushrooms filled the kitchen as they cooked down. With the vegetables nicely saut¨¦ed, I poured in a generous amount of the red wine, scraping the bottom of the skillet with a wooden spoon to lift the fond. I returned the chicken and lardons to the skillet, adding enough water to barely cover the ingredients. The thyme and bay leaves were nestled among the simmering mixture. As the stew began to bubble gently, I reduced the fire to a low, steady heat. One of my spells ensured that the temperature remained constant, perfect for slow cooking. Over the next couple of hours, I occasionally stirred the coq au vin, adjusting the seasoning with a pinch of salt and a grind of black pepper to taste. When the chicken was tender and the sauce thickened to a velvety consistency, I removed the skillet from the hearth with a cloth to protect my hands from the heat. To accompany the dish, I had prepared a pot of mashed roots¡ªturnips and potatoes¡ªseasoned with butter churned from our own cream and flecked with chopped parsley. I arranged the coq au vin in the center of a large, ornate serving platter. The mashed roots were spooned into a decorative bowl, their steam carrying the scent of butter and parsley. As a final touch, I garnished the platter with a few sprigs of fresh thyme from the garden because yes this particular flying fortress came with an actual garden. After a moment of contemplation of my culinary creation, I carefully portioned the coq au vin, arranging succulent pieces of chicken and hearty vegetables onto each plate. Seeing me wrapping everything up, "I didn''t take you for a good cook," Aquaflora remarked, leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded and an amused smile playing on her lips. Her voice carried a tone of genuine surprise mixed with a hint of admiration. Midway through my cooking, she had appeared and, as silently as she arrived, observed from a corner. I paused, a half-smile tugging at my lips as I met her gaze. "Well, there are many things you don¡¯t know about me yet," I replied, placing the last serving on the ornate tray. "Clearly," Aquaflora chuckled, pushing off from the doorframe and stepping closer to inspect the plates. "This looks and smells delightful. Who knew you, out of all people, had such talents?" Smiling, I asked, "Did I ever tell you? At barely fifteen, I ran away from my family castle." "You did?" "Yes, I did. I won''t go into the details, but just know that from that moment on, I journeyed on my own for quite some time. I believe you''re familiar with how long a horseback journey can be. I had to cook to survive. The best thing I could say about how it tasted is that it was passable¡ªanything beyond or below would be an exaggeration. So, I could either better my cooking craft or content myself with second-rate meals. Needless to say, once I had the time, I chose the better option." After portioning the meal into two plates, I handed one to Aquaflora for her to have a taste. I then motioned at two young Argyrian elves to bring large portions of the food and plates to Goblin. As the two young elves left, I turned back to Aquaflora with a smile and suggested, "I can teach you how to cook well if you want." "Are you suggesting that I don''t know how to cook?" Aquaflora frowned before taking her first bite. "I was merely insinuating that you''re not better than me and that you could learn from me," I said, taking my own first bite. "That is, of course, if you willingly choose to improve. Mh, delicious¡ªas expected of me." With a sigh, Aquaflora fed a spoonful to her Loong, which had appeared and clung to its usual spot on her shoulder. "Let''s say I wanted to learn from you. How do you think we could arrange this?" "Mh," I mused before declaring, "Once all of this is dealt with, I intend to take a pause¡ªa much-deserved pause." "Oya, why do I feel like I''ve heard that before? Oh, right, you did say that before going against the Argyrian Patriarch. You said you''d like to go live some peaceful life somewhere deep in the verdant mountains." At that reminder, I couldn''t help but feel a little embarrassed. Not stopping there, Aquaflora added, "Remind me, what did you do instead?" "I went on a level-up rampage." "Yeah, you did. Not just for a week or a month, but ten years straight." That''s right. For the past ten years, wasting not a single moment, I focused entirely on leveling up. By hunting down the majority of the remaining monsters across the entire elven continent, I pushed myself to the brink. It took time, sweat, and blood, but those were preparations I had to make for what awaited me. "I''ll concede that I wasn''t able to deliver before, but this time will be different. I''m going to take a well-deserved pause, somewhere in a verdant mountain in the middle of nowhere. What do you think? Wanna join me?" She didn''t answer right away, just eyed me in that familiar way she does when I tease her. So, I added, "I know you want to come. Don''t tell me you have anything that''ll make you unable to take such a pause. And no. The old ''my subjects need me'' excuse won''t work on me this time." Throughout these ten years, I had jokingly invited Aquaflora¡ªnow a full-fledged Matriarch of the Argyrian¡ª to join in my training but she always used the stability of her ''family'' as an excuse. An excuse that, over time, became less and less believable. Right now, the Argyrian capital is in the most stable state it''s ever been, possibly even more so than when the Argyrian Patriarch was in charge. Seeing how she was still hesitating to say yes, I said, "So, you gonna say it? Or do you need me to literally force you?" Sighing, Aquaflora finally gave in. "Alright, I''ll accompany you." "See? Was it that hard to say?" "No¡­ Also it¡¯s just the time to improve my cooking, right?"The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. "Yes but that''ll take time. I estimate it''ll take about a quarter of a human lifetime," I said, handing her a glass. "Twenty-five years?! Am I that bad of a cook?" "That''s a minimum," I replied, pouring her wine. "You know what, whatever," she said, taking a big gulp. Taking a sip myself, I said nothing at first, but when she finished and grabbed the bottle to pour herself more, I couldn''t help but comment. "You''re sure it''s alright for you to drink like that?" "You''re one to talk¡ªWhat?" Aquaflora suddenly asked, noticing my change of expression. Midway through her sentence, I sensed it. Gulping down what was left in my glass, I announced, "It''s here." Not even taking the time to finish the meal I''d spent hours cooking¡ªsince it would be impolite to make my guests wait¡ªI left the kitchen with Aquaflora, and we made our way to the deck. There, waiting for us, was Goblin, blocking one of his eyes¡ªmost likely because he was sharing vision with one of his little birds. Upon seeing us, he announced, "Your guest has arrived, Ma''am." At his words, Aquaflora looked at me with concern. "Well, well, well. At least he was considerate enough not to make us wait long." It had been two days. Nine, if you counted from when the flying fortress breached into the Land of Men. In those nine days, we''d invaded three capitals: Evermere Kingdom''s capital, Radiance Kingdom''s capital, and Dawnrealm Kingdom''s capital. With our flying fortresses¡ªeach packing quite the arsenal and carrying the strongest, most battle-eager individuals drafted from both the Argyrian and Aurian families, ¡ªwe''d not only subjugated the three capitals with relative ease, but we also killed the king of Dawnrealm. By the time we reached the capitals of the Radiance and Evermere Kingdoms, their rulers had already abandoned their thrones, fleeing their cities in cowardice. Only a few remained behind¡ªprideful, foolish nobles who dared to challenge us, only to be instantly obliterated for their belligerence. The more reasonable noble families, those who lacked either the time or the will to flee, chose not to interfere with our advance. Even the faith, bound to their Seraphim''s decree, turned a blind eye to my invasion. With little resistance, our journey across the continent was smooth, allowing us to reach this place: the Parting Sea, where the land itself is split in two. For two days, we waited for him. And now, at last, he was here. "Did he bring his kings along?" I asked Goblin. Goblin shook his head. "The six of them are here but in retreat. It seems¡ª" "It seems he wants to get this done already," I nodded. "Well, what else can I do but respond in kind," I resolutely declared. "I''m going to receive our guest. Alone." At these words, both Goblin and Aquaflora turned to look at me with similarly grave expressions, most likely understanding better than before that the outcome of this whole invasion was going to be decided here. "What are you two looking at me like that for? You look at me as if I was making a suicidal charge. I''m going to win this battle," I declared with assurance. The duo looked at each other, then just sighed. "I don''t even know why I''m worried," Goblin muttered. "I don''t know where you get your assurance from," Aquaflora said as she closed in to hug me. "But good luck to you, even though you most likely think you don''t need it." I said nothing, simply returned her hug. Then, walking over to Goblin, who had put his plate on the balustrade, I opened my arms wide for a hug. "You''re not going to wish me good luck too, are you?" "No," he said, shaking his head, transitioning into his young teen version as she pulled me into an embrace. "But Imma take the hug anyway." As I returned the hug, I leaned in and whispered into Goblin''s ear, for her, but also not just for her. "I will handle him. But just to be sure, get everyone and the fortress in ready formations." I had plenty of opportunities to see it with my own two eyes. "Monarchs are prideful beings¡ªit''s in their nature. Yet, for all their pride, they are not beyond vindictive instincts. When things get to it, the kings may¡ªno, they definitely will leap into action under his orders. Otherwise, he wouldn''t have brought them here with but would have left them somewhere safe. So, you need to be ready." "Don''t worry, Ma''am. I¡ªwe''ll be ready to handle them properly." Patting Goblin''s silver hair, I said out loud, "Counting on you all," before taking my leave.
Leaving everyone behind¡ªincluding the flying fortress fleet¡ªI took to the skies to meet my guest. I flew with my spiritual blade humming faintly beneath me, carrying me steadily between the endless stretch of azure waves below and the vast, clear sky above. That¡¯s, of course, if we ignore the moon that hovered in the sky even though it wasn''t actually that time of the year. The sea and sky mirrored one another so perfectly that it felt as if I were gliding between two infinite worlds, with nothing but myself suspended in the balance¡ªbut not for long. After a leisurely flight, he came into view. Neither shy nor impolite enough to immediately open hostilities, I slowly approached within parley distance with the man¡ªone of quite the formidable presence. Standing atop a platform, its perimeter seemingly adjusted to carry him through the sky, he stood tall. Runes imbued into its surface continuously manifested magical circles that appeared and faded at regular intervals, creating intricate changes to keep him afloat while seamlessly supporting his weight. Hovering atop his platform, the dark fur cloak draped over his broad shoulders swayed gently in the salty breeze, its weighty folds giving him the appearance of a shadow come to life. Beneath the cloak, an armor of unimpressive quality¡ªespecially for someone of his standing, judged by my level 10 Identification skill and my own sense of aesthetics¡ªglinted faintly in the sky. An imposing two-handed sword rested at his side, its long blade''s tip nearly grazing the platform¡¯s edge. The hilt, wrapped in weathered leather, was firmly gripped in his gloved hand, as though it were an extension of himself¡ªunyielding, solid, and ever-ready. Deep lines etched his forehead, framing eyes as sharp and cold as steel. The man''s face, framed by strands of white hair that caught the sunlight, made him, with his stern expression, look like the sculpture of a tragic hero from a distant past. Strong, wise, but ultimately tragic. Deep-set lines traced his forehead and mouth, making a point of how old he was, yet miserably failing to accurately highlight how old exactly. That was just the face of a strong man in his early sixties and not the face of someone who was older than a millennium. As I approached, his eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto me with an intensity that felt almost tangible. The cold steel of his gaze cut through the distance between us, and though no words were spoken, I felt their weight: judgment, annoyance, and a flicker of unrestrained bloodlust. "You''re late," he said calmly. "You''ll excuse me, Your Imperial Majesty," I said with a smile at Emperor Cleon, the monarch who called himself the ''One and Only.'' "But your arrival was unannounced. If you''d sent me word of your arrival, I would have come to welcome you." "You could have done the same¡ªsent me word, and I would have welcomed you, your new friends, and your fleet in Dawnrealm if you had the civility of warning me." "That was an oversight on my part. It seems that the sixty years or so I spent away from civilisation have made me lose sense of decorum." At those words, his gaze bore into mine, leaking bloodlust like never before. Unwavering, unflinching, I looked back in defiance. After a tense standstill, he withdrew his bloodlust and spoke in a way that strangely reminded me of my grandfather¡ªthe former Wei? Duke¡ªwho expressed his disappointment in me when I chose my class. There was no reproach, not in words, just a disappointment that he made sure I felt in his gaze. "Decorum, respect, loyalty¡ªthose are things you never had. You only ever pretended to have them. I have known that for years. I''ve seen all too many of your kind in my long existence, and I have always granted them the appropriate punishment for that affront¡ªdeath. But you, I made an exception for, beyond your flaws, I believed that someday, along the way, you and I would achieve so much together." Sugar-coating the truth, aren''t we? He and I knew very well that the reason he didn''t kill me for my many transgressions was that I was a registered adventurer¡ªa faction he gave his word to keep his hands away from. The other reason¡ªthe main reason¡ªwas due to me being the only one capable of dealing with the plague that dungeons posed for the Faith and the world in fact. I was under the direct protection of the three Seraphims. He himself, as a monarch, had the same reasons as the Seraphims to keep me alive. "I agree with you on one point¡ªthat you and I could have achieved so much together," I declared. Cleon was a monarch¡ªa very problematic one¡ªbut ultimately, he wasn¡¯t an authority wielder. As a Dungeon Master, I had no real motive to wish for his death. In fact, given our shared enemy¡ªthe ones responsible for the enslavement of the dwarven continent, who wielded an authority¡ªhe and I could have been allies. But that, due to how he is, will never become reality. And to be frank, even if he somehow, out of nowhere, changed his ways, I don''t think it would change anything for me: He has to go. "I would usually say that what I''m about to do isn''t personal, but frankly, it deeply is," I declared, ascending to a higher altitude. Atop his platform, he followed. His eyes looked past me, into where I came from. "Are your new friends not going to join you?" "Worry not, Your Imperial Majesty," I declared, coming to a halt in my ascent. He did too. Activating [Mantle of Serenity], which instantly dressed me in my battle-ready outfit¡ªa clear omen of opening hostilities¡ªI continued, "I intend to make this a fair fight for you. I alone will fight." "I do not know what it is you bargained with them," he said, his gaze shifting to the moons¡ªthree moons that, at this time of year, had no reason to be there, except perhaps to witness what was about to unfold. "But trust my words: today, they will not, as they have for the past three centuries, shield you from what I should have done the moment I first met you." On these words, it began. Chapter 51: Level 101 Arianna vs Millenial Old Monarch Cleon Cleon hovered a hundred meters away, his eyes locked on mine, both of us suspended in midair like dueling specters. I waved my hand, the motion as fluid as if I wielded a wand. In response, countless magic circles shimmered into existence around me, their hues of white, green, and blue overlapping like an intricate tapestry. Before I could draw three breaths, I unleashed a barrage of ice, wind, and water attacks toward Cleon. But he mirrored me, his hand cutting through the air with equal precision. Magic circles bloomed around him too, but his came in five shades¡ªgreen, white, blue, and the fiery additions of yellow and orange. Ice, Wind, and Water, Lightning and fire surged from his circles, colliding with my elemental onslaught. The space between us became a battleground of color and fury. Fire met ice, ice clashed with lightning, and lightning tangled with wind. The explosions were blinding, painting the sky with ephemeral brilliance. But light wasn''t the problem¡ªthe real issue was that my opening assault was being overwhelmed. It made sense. While our skills were both at peak performance, level 10, Cleon was a true mage. I was merely a former one. He wielded more elements, and that forced my hand. I resorted to using [Zenith of Sorcery], formerly known as Unbound Sorcery, to seamlessly summon elemental attacks without magic circles. Each of my elemental arcana skills was maxed at level 10, and with my [Arcanic Codex] skill also at its peak, the speed at which I could conceptualize and manifest magic circles was absurd. But even that paled in comparison to the instantaneous casting I achieved with [Zenith of Sorcery]. Standing my ground in midair, every attack that threatened to reach me was intercepted effortlessly. I didn¡¯t even lift a finger¡ªthe magic responded to my will alone. Cleon, noticing my tactics, seemed offended by the stalemate. Confident he would overpower me, he summoned more magic circles, introducing light and shadow elements into the fray. It was clear why he hadn¡¯t used these elements earlier¡ªthey were weaker compared to his primary arsenal. I didn¡¯t panic. There was no need. I simply intensified my use of [Zenith of Sorcery]. The MP cost was ridiculous, but I could afford it comfortably. For two and a half minutes, the space between us was nothing but explosions of raw elemental power. We glared at each other through the chaos, both realizing this was going nowhere. Simultaneously, we ceased our magical barrage. Closing the distance atop my spiritual sword, I charged through the lingering aftermath of our clash. Cleon drew his sword, not relying on his floating platform to approach. Instead, like a raging bull, he propelled himself at breakneck speed toward me. I considered mirroring his move but chose instead to brace myself. His blade swung heavily, aiming to bisect me. Clang. Krshh. Clang. Krshh. Clang. His greatsword met not my flesh, but the spiritual shields I summoned. The first shattered, then the second. Only the third held, and even that was temporary. Activating [Devastator¡¯s Roar], Cleon released a deafening battle cry, his strength surging. My final shield crumbled under the assault. But I wasn¡¯t unprepared. Another shield materialized, buying me just enough time to reposition. I retaliated with a spear, aiming a kick at his reflexes. The Berserker that he was¡ªa barbarian special class¡ªshielded himself with his sword. Wasting no time, I made my summoned swords dance like petals in the wind, each swing aimed to carve him apart. [Manifest Spiritual Armament] allowed me to conjure weapons at will, and [Arsenal Dance], an innate skill I unlocked as an Arsenal Ascetic, gave me full control over them. Each weapon was an extension of myself. But Cleon was relentless. He parried every attack, his greatsword clashing against my spiritual blades as we hung in midair. That being said, Gravity tugged at him. He didn¡¯t possess flying skills. Instead, he relied on his wind element to stay aloft, but it was clear he wasn¡¯t in his true element. It seems I had chosen the perfect battleground. As I continued my assault, I watched his platform race to meet his feet. I sent my weapons to intercept, successfully disrupting his balance. But in the half-second I spent dismantling his platform, Cleon found an opening. He swung his blade with unreasonable strength, releasing a massive shockwave. It engulfed everything in its path, including my spiritual weapons. The shockwave closed the distance in an instant. I ejected myself from my flying sword, knowing there was no dodging that attack. My sword was consumed by the shockwave, which continued its destructive path into the stratosphere. Summoning another spiritual sword to ride, I glanced toward Cleon. He had conjured a new flying device¡ªa platform crafted from his level 7 earth magic. With wind elemental runes properly inscribed, it propelled him skyward, freeing him from gravity''s grasp. Wasting no time, Cleon gave me chase. Elemental attacks tore through the space between us¡ªlightning and light, the fastest elements in his arsenal¡ªstreaking toward me with blinding speed. I weaved through them, countering with precision. And soon I noticed it¡ªsomething subtle but telling. I was faster. Compared to his platform, my floating sword sliced through the air with effortless agility. I wondered how I could capitalize on this advantage, but before I could act, he abruptly ceased his elemental barrage. Why? It didn¡¯t take long to figure out. Using his platform as a springboard, Cleon hurled himself toward me. "What the hell," I muttered, watching him close half the distance between us before summoning another platform beneath his feet. Then another. And another. As he neared, his weapon shifted from a two-handed greatsword into a massive warhammer. He swung it at me with a speed that left me no choice but to use my flying sword as a shield. It shattered instantly, leaving me defenseless. When he swung again, I had nothing but my left arm to protect myself. There was a clang, followed by the sickening sound of bone cracking and the spray of blood. Pain lanced through me, but I forced a smile, staring into his eyes as I successfully shielded my head from the blow. Chains coiled around his hammer, anchoring it in place. "It didn¡¯t even hurt," I lied through gritted teeth. With my right hand, I lifted a miniature moon to his face level. More mini moons hovered around him, then exploded violently. Each one packed enough force to erase a city from the map. At this range, there was no missing. But that wasn¡¯t enough. I closed the gap, curling my right hand into a fist. I drove it into his chest with all my strength, sending him hurtling backward. He stabilized himself mid-air, summoning yet another platform. Greed got the better of me. I charged, ready to deliver a second blow, but aborted the attempt as he unleashed a new wave of elemental attacks. Barely dodging, I withdrew, using the retreat to glance at my arm. It was in pieces¡ªtorn, bloody, and bent at unnatural angles. I winced, not from the pain but from frustration. I wanted to be the one to draw first blood, but he had beaten me to it. I glanced back at Cleon. He stood, seemingly unscathed. I hadn¡¯t expected him to die from that attack, but was it too much to hope for at least a scratch? Sighing, I healed my arm. In less than three seconds, it was good as new. I stretched the regrown limb, never taking my eyes off Cleon. He studied his weapon, around which my ethereal chains were tightly coiled. There was no removing it unless he had a specific skill, and I doubted he did. Taking a deep breath, I decided to stop holding back. In hindsight, I should have done this from the start, but I wanted to see how my level 101 self would fare against him. I knew, with absolute certainty, that it wouldn¡¯t be enough to defeat him. He hadn¡¯t even used his monarch advantage yet. Still, it wasn¡¯t pointless. It was humbling. With that newfound humility, I summoned the sigil that once belonged to the Umbryan Patriarch¡ªthe Obsidian Tree. Encompassing over five kilometers in diameter, the gigantic black tree manifested, its roots plunging deep into the ocean beneath us, and its branches stretching high into the heavens. "An Ancestral Tree..." Cleon mused, genuine fascination flickering in his eyes. But before that I believed I saw something else. Something I¡¯d never seen in this wannabe god¡¯s eyes. "It seems you recognize what this is," I taunted. "I take it you¡¯ve seen one of these before." "I have," he replied. "Heavens know I have... his was just blue." His words felt like they weren¡¯t meant for me, but the next ones were. "Is this thing what gave you the courage to come and wreak havoc on my domain?" "This is indeed what makes me believe I can defeat you, Your Majesty. But it¡¯s not the only thing." With a call, I summoned it. "Come to me, Tharazul." Activating the ability Tharazul, the Rotten Beholder, the grotesque being appeared behind me. Its countless small eyes and one large central eye hovered above a gaping, fanged mouth. It was a creature that seemed simultaneously demonic, eldritch, and undead. Wasting no time, I activated [Fate Reversal] and several other Hexcaster abilities. A crown materialized, floating above my head as Tharazul¡¯s many eyes and its mouth closed, leaving it in a seemingly dormant state.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I wasn¡¯t finished. I activated [Yin Manifestation], summoning a clone that shared not only my appearance but also all my basE stats. It possessed my Cryomancer and Ice Mage skills, meaning it could wield all my spells and [Ice Elemental Arcana]. The clone was a cold-blooded powerhouse. Normally, I¡¯d avoid using this skill due to its ridiculous fatigue cost. It drained 25% of my total fatigue percentage. Even in my low-level Highbreed days, I¡¯d never had an ability that demanded so much. But today wasn¡¯t a normal day. This was a battle with so many atypical parameters. Summoning an array of weapons that danced around me while my [Chain of Permanence] wrapped tightly around my arms, I declared to Cleon, "Now, Your Majesty, I think that''s enough contemplation. Let''s finish this." "I couldn''t have said it better myself," Cleon replied, charging at me with unrelenting force. I met him head-on. We collided hard in midair. He swung his hammer; I raised a shield. The shield shattered under the impact, but I didn¡¯t falter. My left arm lifted instinctively, summoning another shield. Unlike before, where my arm had snapped under the warhammer''s might, it held strong this time. Not because I hadn''t sustained damage¡ªI had¡ªbut I redirected the brunt of the force to my right arm instead. Cleon barely had time to process this before my spiritual weapons came at him from all directions¡ªa two-bladed greatsword, a claymore, a spear, a warhammer identical to his own, and two varieties of axes. He reflexively tried to shield himself, but his defense was far from perfect. The weapons struck, but instead of slicing through him, they ricocheted off his high defenses. Not surprised, I closed the gap between us. Clenching my already healed right arm into a fist, I struck fast and hard. My blow landed square on his torso, and I saw him wince as he was knocked off his flying platform. That finally hurt, didn¡¯t it? I¡¯m essentially a monk, but since I chose Weaponry Ascetic¡ªa hybrid-centric class¡ªas my special class, I wasn¡¯t as strong as I could have been if I¡¯d picked a more SP-focused variation of the monk class. I knew the trade-offs when I made my choice. It was fine by me for I knew that while my raw strength as a monk would be taxed, my speed wouldn¡¯t. As a class, Weaponry Ascetic didn¡¯t hinder my affinity with the agility attribute, and that was an edge I knew I could exploit. After all, I wasn¡¯t just a Weaponry Ascetic¡ªI was also a Sorcerer. One with multiple [Elemental Arcana] skills that, thanks to my [Zenith of Sorcery], I could adjust and cast like instant spells. In simpler terms? When I punched Cleon, I didn¡¯t just hit him with raw speed and strength¡ªI hit him with the force of an elemental attack. To make it even simpler: I punched him with a spell. As Cleon tumbled through the air, I used the [Chain of Permanence] to yank him back, halting him about twenty-five meters away. My arsenal followed, the spiritual weapons slashing toward him. Most connected, though he managed to block the last two with his hammer. Baring his teeth like a wild animal, he failed to notice¡ªuntil it was too late¡ªthe four moon-like spheres encircling him. They hovered, summoned by my cold-blooded twin from a safe distance. "Lunar Cataclysm," I whispered alongside her. The resulting explosion was colossal. After he tasted its full might, I yanked him upward into the sky with my chains. My clone and I followed, sending our weapons ahead, exploiting his aerial disadvantage. Noticing the skill he was about to unleash, I activated my passive [Arcanic Codex] along with [Perfected Evil Eyes]¡ªan evolved version of the skill once known as Eye of Nullification. This disrupted the magic circles he summoned, causing the lightning to discharge directly into his face. His confusion was almost comical. Moments like this made me thankful for the system granting me [Identification]. Appraisal would be great, but I¡¯d hate to be in a situation where I had no clue what was happening. Taking advantage of his disorientation, I sent my weapons into a violent dance. Cleon reacted swiftly, but not swiftly enough to handle the barrage¡ªespecially when I joined the fray with my elemental-imbued punches. To counter me, Cleon transmuted his warhammer into a spear, thrusting it repeatedly in hopes of impaling me. But in midair, I had the advantage. My class was nearly as agile as his¡ªif not more so¡ªand I evaded his countless attempts with ease. My [Perfected Evil Eyes] ensured he couldn¡¯t summon any more platforms. After throwing him off with several equally confusing maneuvers, I exploited a brief moment of inattention. I closed the distance, landing another devastating blow. The air cracked with frost as my fist, imbued with an intricate lattice of ice magic, slammed into Cleon¡¯s ribs. The crunch of ice and bone was simultaneous, a sickening symphony of power. His body arched from the force, blasting backward through the air like a meteor. But I wasn¡¯t done. My chains lashed out with the speed of thought, their frozen links snagging him mid-flight. For a brief moment, I thought I had him again¡ªthat I had yanked Cleon back into my grasp like before. But Cleon, swifter than ever, seized the chain, halting his momentum. The air between us thickened with tension as we locked eyes, mutual defiance burning in that stare. He pulled. I pulled harder. He pulled ever harder. The contest of force was brief, brutal, and wholly one-sided. Cleon¡¯s strength eclipsed mine, and with a ferocious yank, he reeled me toward him¡ªor more precisely, toward his weapon. It shimmered with malevolent energy as it reformed in his hand, becoming a glaive. The blade was aimed directly at my chest. I clenched my fist, ice and chains coiling around it like a serpent, and met his glaive head-on. The clash was deafening. Three distinct sounds rang out: my fist colliding with the blade, the glaive shattering like fragile glass, and finally, my fist connecting with his hand. My spell triggered instantly, spreading frost and hexes through the contact point. Boom. Kinslaughterer. Demon-Slaughterer. Marks of infamy, proof that I was a bane to humans and elves alike. But if there was something I was more a bane to than any living being, it was weapons, armor, and artifacts¡ªall too vulnerable to my curses. Cleon¡¯s glaive had been cursed the moment my chains touched it. Rust and decay consumed the weapon as though time itself had fast-forwarded. He hesitated, momentarily thrown off by the loss of his weapon. But he recovered faster than I expected, his hand darting out to seize my wrist before I could retreat. ¡°Crap,¡± I muttered, activating [Cryostasis]. A sphere of slowed time enveloped us, reducing motion to a crawl. His hand flattened, rigid and sharp like a blade, and thrust toward me with lethal precision. Despite the slowed time I couldn¡¯t evade that one attack. It speared through my gut, the sheer force sending a burst of blood cascading into the frozen air. Pain flared, white-hot and searing, but I gritted my teeth. [Pain Immunity] dulled the edges, but the sensation was still there. Cleon¡¯s lips twisted into a cruel smile. Before it could fully form, I plunged my thumbs into his eyes. He screamed, the sound distorted by the slowed time. I didn¡¯t stop. I pressed harder, twisting with savage intent. Then, with my face inches from his, I bit down on his cheek, tearing away flesh in a gruesome display. His scream became a roar of fury. With a sickening motion, he dragged his impaling arm to the side, ripping a chunk of me free. I screamed, blood pouring from the wound, but my mind stayed sharp. Pain was accessory now, nothing more. He aimed his next strike at my head, but I summoned my spiritual weapons. Within the Cryostasis field, they moved at normal speed¡ªin other words, they moved like a blur. The first wave deflected his thrust. The second bent his arm at an unnatural angle. The third severed it entirely. ¡°Aaaaaaargh!¡± Cleon¡¯s voice was guttural. His remaining arm swung at me, but I caught it with both hands. Using his own momentum, I twisted, bringing him into a looping dance, then hurled him¡ªnot randomly, but into the perfect position for my clone outside the Cryostasis field. The clone had been preparing [Judgment of the Firmament]. The giant spear descended like a meteor, its golden glow piercing through the icy haze. It struck Cleon with catastrophic force, driving him into the ocean below. The impact created waves that reached the heavens, only for my clone to utter the words: ¡°Arctic Oblivion.¡± The explosion froze the waves mid-motion, transforming the sea into an apocalyptic expanse of ice. The Parting Sea had become a glacial wasteland, its surface reflecting the pale light of the sky. Hovering above the devastation, my clone joined me. I noticed something still hanging from my mouth and spat it out with a grimace. Blood smeared my face. I wiped it away, a grim smile tugging at my lips. The blood wasn¡¯t mine. Cleon¡ªa man I had once only dreamed of defeating¡ªhad been brought low. It had cost me half my gut, a wound that would¡¯ve been fatal under normal circumstances. But here I stood. I was still wiping the blood from my face when a notification blinked in the corner of my vision. ¡°Sigh.¡± With a resounding crash, a lightning bolt split the frozen sea, shattering it into jagged peaks of ice that collapsed into chaotic fragments. From the chaos, Cleon¡¯s elements surged forth with untamed fury: lightning whipping in all directions, beams of light piercing the air in countless straight lines, and fire spreading in an ever-engulfing inferno. It was unprecedented chaos¡ªor perhaps not entirely unprecedented, as I had witnessed something even worse a decade ago¡ªbut you get the point. It was chaos incarnate. Evading the torrent of random elemental attacks, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of vindication at my earlier decision to manifest the Obsidial Tree not as a prison, but as a barrier. It allowed the chaos to vent harmlessly into the surroundings rather than directly against my sigil. With my copy, we maneuvered through the storm of destruction, evading or blocking the onslaught. It was overwhelming to witness, but nothing we couldn¡¯t handle. Hovering in the air, hand in hand with my cold-blooded self, we watched as Cleon emerged from the partially melted, shattered remains of the frozen sea, ascending to our level. His once-imposing presence was now reduced to a miserable state. The disheveled appearance of the millennia-old monarch stood in stark contrast to the stoic figure he previously embodied. Wet and bloodied, with one arm missing and the other side of his body obliterated, he looked more like a walking corpse than a ruler. Despite his eyeless sockets still oozing blood, his fury was palpable as he glared at me. I curtsied, ensuring he could see the full extent of my recovery. The chunk missing from my gut had fully healed, not a scratch marring my skin¡ªskin now covered by the armor summoned through my [Mantle of Serenity]. I made sure to smirk as I said, even though I was certain he couldn''t hear my words from this distance, ¡°What do you say now, Your Majesty? Did I match you well enough?¡± Cleon didn¡¯t answer with words. Instead, he summoned the one thing he had, in his arrogance, denied me the sight of until now: his sigils. Monarchs define sigils, but it wouldn''t be wrong to also say that sigils define monarchs. They are after all, the crystallization of their power, their very essence. While their forms vary, consistent patterns emerge depending on the wielder¡¯s race. For elves, a sigil often manifests as a tree that can serve as either a prison or a barrier. For humans, however, it typically takes the form of a weapon tied to their chosen class or classes. Cleon, being a dual-class monarch, summoned two sigils: a floating grimoire and a sword. The sword, I knew instinctively, wouldn¡¯t remain just a sword. The grimoire lit up almost immediately. I braced for an attack, but the next moment revealed his true intention. The light wasn¡¯t for me; it was for him. Cleon¡¯s body began to glow, and I realized with a sinking feeling what he was doing. His mangled flesh regenerated in an instant. A new arm sprouted, his obliterated side restored, and even his eyes returned, clear and sharp. His sigils weren¡¯t just tools of power; they were conduits, allowing him to draw resources from his subjects. He had drained the vitality of his kings, nobles, and every soul sworn to them, siphoning their life force to heal himself. ¡°Showoff,¡± I muttered. ¡°I can do that too, so there¡¯s no need to parade it in front of me.¡± Cleon¡¯s stare burned with unbridled rage, but beyond the fury, I recognized something else. Greed. He wanted my sigil. The thought was almost laughable. Did he really believe he could take it from me and wield it for himself? How amusing it would be when he discovered the truth of how I actually operate it. Chapter 52: Level 101 Arianna vs Millenial Old Monarch Cleon (1) I am no monarch. I might be holding onto an ancestral tree¡ªa sigil, a token of monarchhood¡ªbut ultimately, I was no monarch. The clearest affirmation of that fact is the title bestowed upon me: "Sigil-holder" instead of "Monarch." I haven''t acquired the title, and while I can wield the sigil and use its power, I can''t use it the way Goblin or Aquaflora do with their respective sigils. Unlike them, I lack the predisposition to make myself the owner of the sigil¡ªjust its wielder. This comes with tragic consequences. For one, I can''t access some of the most useful features of an Ancestral Tree as a sigil. Affinity enhancement? I can¡¯t. It kind of makes sense that I can''t benefit from it¡ªas a human, I don''t even have an affinity section to begin with. But somewhere deep down, I expected to unlock some skill related to spiritual affinity over the past ten years I''ve trained with the Obsidial Tree, which is essentially an ancestral tree manifested from the majority of the spiritual sub-affinities. But no, it grants me no such advantage. Another thing I can''t do, as a human wielding an ancestral tree, is produce a new "family" member like the elven monarchs do. That, arguably, is one of the main functions of an ancestral tree: to create beings in your image. Technically, I could do that¡ªbut it requires literally birthing them, something the Patriarchs or Matriarchs never had to do to expand their families. But that¡¯s a loss I can live with. I didn¡¯t feel the need to produce new family members. I already had one¡ªthe Noctils elves I requisitioned from the Umbryan Patriarch. That was enough elves without exaggeration. So really, not being able to use the Obsidial Tree to produce new elves was a loss I could simply ignore unlike the fact that, as a human wielding an ancestral tree, I was unable to use the resource-drawing function of the sigil. This feature¡ªacross all sigils, whether human, angelic, or demonic¡ªis the most important. I¡¯d go as far as to say it¡¯s the main reason any sentient being would ever want to be a monarch. And it wouldn¡¯t be unreasonable to claim that. All known monarchs¡ªthe emperors, Seraphim, Matriarchs, Patriarchs, Archdukes of Hell¡ªwound up creating a ruling system where they had subjects. So really, it was a tragedy that I was not able to use that feature. And it still is, even though I¡¯ve found a way to bypass that inability. *** Conjured through his grimoire, which acted like a wand would, enhancing the effect of his magic, elements flared in all directions. It wasn¡¯t even worth dodging or shielding myself. I left the job of mitigating the damage to my magical resistance and defense while relying on what had allowed me to survive this battle without being a monarch myself to undo whatever harm I suffered. I chose to ignore the fire, lightning, light, and other elements unleashed at me, letting them burn and shock me as I countered. I zigzagged through the midair, not to avoid the exploding elements but to avoid Cleon. His approach to movement had evolved¡ªusing his platform not just as a foundation but as a literal springboard to propel himself at me. He even adapted to mostly using wind magic instead of earth magic for propulsion, nullifying the aerial advantage I once had. Evading yet another of his attempts to hurl himself at me, our gazes met as he managed to halt midair. Wasting no time, he reforged his sigil¡ªthe spear he¡¯d just tried to impale me with¡ªinto a bow. Drawing it back, he unleashed a barrage of arrows like a damn minigun. These arrows, summoned through his elemental Arcana skills via his grimoire, came in different flavors: light, lightning, and fire, all enhanced with wind magic for unprecedented speed. I¡¯d withstood and healed from worse attacks, but I wasn¡¯t about to let this one hit me without counterattacking. I retaliated with a hail of spiritual projectiles and ice stalagmites, unleashed alongside wind elemental Arcana for enhanced speed. What blossomed between us felt like the heart of an apocalyptic lightning storm¡ªan instant cold, the next scalding from his elements meeting mine. When our projectiles collided, what little didn¡¯t clash found its target. Both he and I ignored the hits, equally confident in our ability to undo the damage. For a moment, we were locked in this strange stalemate¡ªnot quite a staredown, since we were hurling projectiles at each other. It took the interference of my cold-blooded copy to break the HP-costing deadlock. Coming into view from a safe distance behind Cleon, she¡ªor perhaps I should say I¡ªdelivered a kick that sent moon-like spheres hurtling toward him. Naturally, these were moons summoned by the skill [Lunar Cataclysm]. By the time Cleon noticed her presence behind him, it was too late. He ate the full blast of the dozen small moons kicked at him. The explosion was powerful enough to flatten a chain of mountains. The shockwave surged forth, loud and strong, but I didn¡¯t budge. My immunity held firm, and so should hers¡ªbut she, ever the strategist, allowed herself to be swept away to create distance between herself and Cleon. We both knew he hadn¡¯t died in that attack. Staying as far from him as possible was a wise decision. As the aftermath had yet to settle, projectiles shot from the mist that still engulfed Cleon, baiting me into thinking he had made her his target. But no¡ªthe moment I prepared to assist her, he came charging at me. ¡°Tsk,¡± I cursed, watching Cleon reform his bow sigil into a sword. He swung at me. I dodged the first attack despite the distance, but the second came faster¡ªI avoided it, though barely. So it came as no surprise when he caught me with the third strike. His blade buried deep into my left shoulder blade. That was nothing. What followed was easily worse. A moment of stillness followed, then a searing light erupted from the wound. ¡°Die,¡± Cleon growled. The explosion wasn¡¯t just sound or light; it was a force that obliterated the left half of my body, reducing it to dust and ash. It literally melted part of my face. I screamed but remained in control of my rationale. I didn¡¯t let the pain dictate my next move. Reason prevailed as I activated [Cryostasis], summoning a spiritual shield to block the blade he thrust toward my face. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. My layered spiritual summons strained upon meeting his sword, layers shattering one after another. It took wrapping the Chains of Permanence around his arm and sword to bring his weapon to a halt¡ªif only for a fraction of a second. But he wasn¡¯t done. He reforged the weapon, and I could only hope to curse it, but since it was a sigil, my curse didn¡¯t work. The weapon reformed into a spear. Its newfound length shattered the remaining layers of my shield as it made its way toward my head¡ªor rather, where my head was, as I quickly slipped to the right to avoid being impaled. But as I did, he swung his other arm at my face, now perfectly aligned for his next attack. Active skill [Cryostasis] gave me the fraction of a second I needed. I undid the damage that had been done to me, then intercepted his fist with one hand. It still met my face, but the force was reduced to a withstandable level. With my newly regrown arm, I grabbed Cleon¡¯s throat and opened my mouth wide, unleashing [Draconic Breath] point-blank at his face. Amidst the cold, intense beam, I heard his scream. I felt and saw his spear reform into something else¡ªa blade he used to cut my right arm clean off again. He broke free, blasted away by the Draconic Breath, until he managed to claw his way out of the attack¡¯s trajectory. With the beam still active, I followed the heavily frostbitten Cleon, stumbling in midair. Some of his limbs shattered and fell off, but the bastard had gotten better with aerial maneuvering. As soon as he began healing his injuries¡ªeven while being tumbled around by my breath attack¡ªhe weaved his way out of its trajectory and prepared a counterattack. But before he could execute it, he was caught off guard by my clone, who now hovered at a distance above him. She unleashed [Judgment of the Firmament], which this time didn¡¯t come in the form of a single gigantic lance but rather countless smaller ones. They rained from the sky, homing in on Cleon. Infused with [Arctic Oblivion], they detonated almost simultaneously upon reaching him, unleashing energy that tore the very air apart. One thing I had come to realize about this fight, a realization now firmly rooted in my being, was that there was no end to this. This wasn¡¯t a battle where, upon obliterating your target, you gained experience. I¡¯d seen both him and myself deliver blows that would have ended any conventional fight right then and there. But this wasn¡¯t a conventional fight.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. So even at the sight of him being obliterated by the explosion, I knew it wasn¡¯t over. From the mist, layer upon layer of slashing energy spread out, creating a grid-like web of destruction aimed at my clone. She tried to evade, but the speed of the attack was overwhelming¡ªespecially with the sheer volume he unleashed. She managed to evade the first wave, but the second and third waves were unavoidable. As she plummeted down from the sky, a partially healed Cleon came swooping in to finish her off. The violence with which the barbarian killed my much-needed clone was beyond unnerving, yet there wasn¡¯t much I could do¡ªexcept avenge her. And that¡¯s exactly what I did. He was perfectly positioned to taste [Judgment of the Firmament]. Like the one "she" unleashed upon him earlier, this version manifested as countless smaller lances, hurtling at him at full speed. As they reached him, they unleashed their secondary effects¡ªbut unlike earlier, when it was just Arctic Oblivion, this hail of lances came infused with wind and water elements. What followed was chaos¡ªa ripple of color, a blast at least ten times the strength of the previous one unleashed by my brave clone. The explosion was so fierce that its blastwave shook me. Unlike ice-elemental attacks, which I was completely immune to¡ªboth directly and indirectly¡ªI wasn¡¯t as thoroughly immune to the other two elements. Hovering there, I watched the chaos subside into aftermath, wishing dearly that I had avenged my brave copy. But once again, I knew better. I was battling a man who could draw a substantial percentage of energy from the kings, nobles, and Verdenkind serving those nobles across this continent. He wasn¡¯t dying from an attack like that. The problem wasn¡¯t even the strength of the attack but rather that weapon he constantly reforged and the grimoire he used as an artifact. With those sigils, there was no defeating him. While that circumstance might make it seem like his sigils were more convenient than those of the elves, it actually wasn¡¯t the case. When it came to that feature, human and elven sigils were similar¡ªif not equal. The difference was, with the elves, we managed to lure the elven monarchs away from their domains¡ªthe source from which they drew their energy. Had we fought any of the elven monarchs in their respective domains, the battle would have panned out just like our fight against the Argyrian Patriarch with the monarch obliterating us in the long run. I wished there was a way for me to take Cleon down the same way we did the elven monarchs¡ªlure him out of his domain¡ªbut I knew for a fact that wasn¡¯t happening. I literally gave myself as bait to see if such an approach could be taken, if he would take the bait and leave his domain to step into Dungeon Master 00''s. It took me fifty years to realize that it wouldn¡¯t work, leaving me with only this painful option to take him. Through the dissipating mist, I saw a mangled Cleon, his sigils lit with unique brilliance as all my hard work was undone right before my eyes. ¡°There goes my revenge,¡± I sighed, glancing at my left arm that had been cut off earlier. With a thought, I undid the damage just like he did. Taking another sigh, I activated [Yin Manifestation] again, summoning a perfect copy of the me I just lost. Ready to throw myself at him again, I watched as he didn¡¯t immediately charge. Instead, he stood there amidst the faintly lingering mist, staring at me with¡­ apprehension. No, that wasn¡¯t it. It took me a moment to notice, but once I did, it seemed so obvious. So far, I¡¯d say he¡¯d looked at me with the same expression we began this battle with¡ªannoyance and greed. Greed for the Obsidial Tree I wielded. As the battle went on, there was more annoyance, more greed¡ªespecially when he realized how much it allowed me to keep up with a monarch like him. Then there was this look of confusion. I could tell¡ªespecially when I sometimes caught him glancing at the eastern corner of my Ancestral Tree manifested around us. He wasn¡¯t looking at that corner in particular, but rather what was beyond that ancestral tree in that very direction¡ªGoblin, Aquaflora, and, last but not least, the fleet. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s what he was most apprehensive about. Being complacent is something I¡¯d look down on him for, but I wouldn¡¯t fault him for being ignorant¡ªwell, at least not that ignorant. Sure, he came to the logical conclusion that the fleet was where the Obsidial Tree I was using drew its reserves from. The distance between here and the Umbryan capital made any attempt to draw reserves from the capital impossible. What was in his eyes wasn¡¯t annoyance, greed, or apprehension. It was something new¡ªsomething I didn¡¯t expect this soon: Fear. A smile appeared on my face as I realized that I might be avenging my dear clone much sooner than expected. Alongside my other clone, I made a rapid ascent to meet him midair, giving him all the more reason to fear me. A battle between monarchs, where both parties are equal in strength and can fully utilize their sigil abilities to draw energy from their subjects, could go on forever. In that moment, the deciding factor would be¡ªif it weren¡¯t also equal¡ªthe amount of energy each could possibly draw from their subjects. Who would exhaust their reserves first? Even though I wasn¡¯t a monarch, the conditions for his or my victory were pretty much the same. From what I knew, human monarchs couldn¡¯t draw as much energy from their subjects as elven monarchs could. While elven monarchs could draw up to 100% of their subjects¡¯ reserves¡ªprovided distance wasn¡¯t an issue¡ªhuman monarchs could only draw less than a third of that. Considering the number of people who were his subjects, I doubted¡ªdespite all the effort I just displayed¡ªthat he had exhausted even half his reserves. But for him to feel this afraid so early on, I knew we were closing in on ending this fight. For now, I just needed to battle as I had been¡ªmatching his pace, dealing damage, undoing the massive ones he inflicted on me like he did mine. Never faltering. Making him understand that this battle, this dance of elements, weapons, and blood, was as futile for him as it was for me. It took the old bastard several broken limbs, a shattered jaw and skull, and a frostbitten body¡ªas much as it cost me torn limbs, a shredded belly, and scorched skin¡ªall of which we both ultimately undid, for him to finally understand. Hovering there atop one of his platforms, he watched me, all the expressions previously present in his eyes now even more pronounced. Ascending to his level, I declared, "What''s going on, Your Majesty? Already feeling tired of this? Because I can go on all day." My words were just taunts. At this point, I doubted he¡¯d exhausted even half of his reserves. But still, I thought it was not an unreasonable thing to assume that he might soon be reconsidering his approach. At my obvious taunt, Cleon bit his lip, clearly uncomfortable with the words about to come out of his mouth. "I''ll admit it,¡± he said, ¡°I have grown tired of all of this." My smile widened. He looked at me with an expression that screamed, wipe that smile off your face. Bringing the floating grimoire to his hand, he sneered. "You''ve grown strong, that much I''ll acknowledge. But so what? I''ll finish this with a single blow." In that moment, I felt it¡ªit was here. I had known from the beginning that if I managed to match his pace, he would resort to this. It was just the smartest thing to do. Just like the Ancestral Tree¡ªthe elven sigil with properties that allow it to serve as either a barrier or a prison¡ªthe human sigil had its own unique characteristics. Human sigils typically manifested as artifacts, and their form dictated their properties. For example, a sigil manifesting as a sword would possess all the qualities of a sword, enhanced to an extraordinary degree. Similarly, a staff would retain the properties of a staff but be augmented with enhancements tailored to its wielder''s needs. But human sigils had one more defining trait: the ability to unleash an ultimate attack. "Ultimate" in this sense meant an effect magnified to staggering proportions, without the sigil bearer bearing the burden of the resource cost. This, I could tell, was exactly what he was about to unleash on me, especially as a flurry of notifications rang from my identification skill, flashing in the corner of my vision. Activating these skills and manifesting them through his grimoire, which acted as an enhancer artifact, several multicolored and complex magic circles materialized, overlapping one another to summon an ominous, giant orb of intense color. The sphere reflected the ridiculous power ready to be unleashed. One would be tempted to think I was the target¡ªbut no, I wasn¡¯t. Should that thing be unleashed at me, no doubt I would be obliterated. I say that myself, as I don¡¯t have any skill or ability¡ªand certainly not the constitution¡ªto withstand something of such ridiculous power. I would instantly disintegrate. But so what? I¡¯d proven time and time again throughout this exchange of lethal attacks, underestimating my abilities to negate damages would be a huge mistake. Cleon seemed to have understood that, which is why his target was the Ancestral Tree I had summoned around us at the beginning. Logic dictated that with no usable sigil, I would be like any average peon before a monarch¡ªsomeone he could squash with no chance of coming back. But he didn¡¯t unleash that ultimate attack instantly, as I hoped he would. Instead, Cleon looked at me with an apprehensive expression, one that soon told me he had figured it out. He realized that if he unleashed the attack on the Obsidial Tree, I would set the sigil to act not as a prison, but as a barrier. That attack would just pass right through, inflicting no damage, wasting his energy. In light of that, his target tragically shifted from the barrier¡­ to me. The air around me grew charged, the hairs on my arms standing on end as the sphere expanded, crackling with raw, untamed energy. The smile on my face shifted from a slight grin to a full-blown grimace¡ªone that grew even uglier when he finally unleashed the attack. I could feel the weight of my impending obliteration, heavy and inescapable. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The sky itself seemed to shrink back. Left with no better option, I braced myself and gave rapid instructions to the Obsidial Tree. With a simple motion, the condensed attack¡ªmassive and terrifying¡ªhurtled toward me. Time seemed to dilate, each fractions of a second stretching endlessly. I could see every ripple of energy, every swirl of elements within the sphere. The sound was deafening, a roar that filled the world, drowning out everything else. It felt intensely long, but ultimately, it came: impact. My defenses were instantly overwhelmed. There was no undoing to the instantaneous damage that exploded in my face. The force struck me like a comet, engulfing me in blinding light and searing pain. I felt myself being torn apart, disintegrated molecule by molecule by the overwhelming power. My thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm, fragments of fear and resignation flashing through my mind. And then, as swiftly as it had erupted, everything turned black. Chapter 53: I am no Monarch (fixed) [Notification] Congratulations! Your Eldritch Nightmare title has evolved. Title Name: Eldritch Sovereign of the Shattered Self Description [Identification Lvl.10]: You have transcended the boundaries of mortal comprehension, becoming the Eldritch Sovereign of the Shattered Self. Your mastery over eldritch forces and cursed arts now defies reality itself. Through the power of Vhorak¡¯thul, you can fracture your essence, spawning perfect replicas that embody your malice and strength. As a sovereign of nightmares, your presence warps the minds of those who oppose you, leaving them broken before your overwhelming might. The void responds to your will, and reality itself trembles under your gaze. Title¡¯s Bestowed Enhancements: - Sovereign Curse Potency: Your curses now manifest with overwhelming force, amplifying the damage and effects of all curse-based abilities. Enemies afflicted by your curses will suffer inescapable torment, with even the most resilient minds crumbling under the strain. - Curse Ability Access: Grants you access to the Vhorak¡¯thul, the Shattered Self ability, allowing you to summon an independent clone or vessel that mirrors your power. - Shattered Essence Manipulation: The effectiveness of your ability to lend skills, abilities, and titles to your clone is drastically enhanced. The clone¡¯s strength mirrors your own with terrifying accuracy, and its independence becomes nearly indistinguishable from your will. - Voidborne Immunity: Your connection to eldritch forces grants partial immunity to mind-affecting abilities and curses, making you resistant to manipulation and mental debilitation. Even the most insidious mental assaults struggle to find purchase in your shattered consciousness. - Nightmare Regeneration: You draw strength from the fear and suffering of your enemies. For every cursed enemy within your vicinity, a portion of your HP, MP, and SP regenerates passively, ensuring that your vitality is sustained amidst chaos. The greater their torment, the more you thrive. [Notification] Congratulations! You''ve Acquired a New Ability. Ability Name: Vhorak¡¯thul, the Shattered Self Ability Type: Eldritch Summon / Vessel Effect: Allows you to create an independent clone or vessel of yourself, capable of wielding your power with devastating precision. Description [Identification Lvl. 10]: By invoking the eldritch power of Vhorak¡¯thul, the Shattered Self, you fracture your existence to manifest a perfect or partial clone. This entity emerges with identical base stats¡ªHP, MP, SP, defense, and offense¡ªas the original, and can be lent specific titles, skills, and abilities. The clone operates independently, fighting alongside you, or it can serve as a vessel for your consciousness, allowing seamless control. Upon the clone''s destruction, no permanent harm befalls you, and any lent abilities gradually return over time.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. - Independent Clone: The summoned entity can act autonomously, strategizing and adapting to the battlefield as though it were a second version of yourself. - Vessel Integration: Shift your consciousness into the clone, using it as a secondary body with full control, while your original form remains dormant or hidden. - Perfect Replica Option: Allocate all titles, skills, and abilities to create a flawless doppelg?nger, effectively doubling your power on the battlefield. - No Permanent Damage: The destruction of the clone carries no lasting consequences. Lent abilities and skills return to you after a cooldown period, ensuring your strength is never permanently diminished. - Gradual Recovery: Stats, Skills and Abilities lent to the clone will return after a set period, allowing you to strategically manage your power between battles. The world was silent and empty, with only two exceptions¡ªthe sight of those notifications and the echoing disbelief in his voice. "How?!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock as my form just began to take shape¡ªyet already, I was laughing maniacally at the farce. Particles of energy that had once been scattered into oblivion started to coalesce, drifting together with purpose and intent. At the heart of this swirling maelstrom of power, a form began to take shape¡ªmy form. Wisps of ethereal substance twisted and spun, weaving into the contours of my body. Layer by layer, my physical manifestation was painstakingly reconstructed, from the bones forming anew beneath what would be skin, to the flicker of life reigniting in my eyes. As I solidified, hovering in midair, my laughter broke the silence, maniacal and triumphant. "Hahaha, you didn''t expect me to die so easily, did you? Too bad, I''m back," I taunted. "From oblivion." "How is this possible!" His voice cracked under the strain of disbelief, his body tensing as he prepared to launch another assault. But as his hands raised, charged with the beginnings of another deadly elemental attack, a dawning realization seemed to halt him. If an attack as monumental as the last was futile, what hope did any further aggression hold? "How?!" he asked again, the anguish palpable in his strained tone. It wasn''t merely that I had survived; that much he might have begrudgingly anticipated¡ªotherwise, he would have used both sigil and all his reserves to end me then and there. In his mind''s eye, he had likely envisioned me shrinking the Obsidial Tree I manifested around us, using it as a shield to absorb the brunt of his attack. It made sense. It would have been the logical defensive maneuver¡ªusing the sigil to create a barrier robust enough to withstand, or at least mitigate, the impact. That would have left me in a state where I would conventionally be unable to use the sigil to undo the damage I sustain next. So either I used the Obsidial Tree as a barrier, and he destroyed it¡ªor at the very least, greatly damaged it¡ªor I didn¡¯t use my sigil as a barrier and just took that attack head-on, which would undoubtedly have killed me. Definitely. A foolproof strategy. One that would have worked¡ªno doubt¡ªif I played under the parameters he believed I played. The stark reality that faced him now must be a very bitter one to swallow: after his massive expenditure of energy, which had, in the end, amounted to nothing more than a spectacular but ultimately ineffective display, my unscathed form was standing as resilient as ever, mocking the futility of his efforts. My smile only broadened in response. "How, you ask?" I said, standing atop my spiritual sword, my voice laced with mocking sweetness. I spread my arms, reveling in the sight. "Simple, really," I said, reaching up to the crown hovering above my head. "I am no monarch." Chapter 54: Counterbalance On a serene morning in the latter part of the day, within the Umbryan capital, Lau and his faithful servant Cam stood by the fish ponds¡ªa routine Lau had inherited from the body''s true owner and had chosen to continue. He found solace in warming the water for the fish, an act that brought him a semblance of tranquility¡ªa peace with himself and the one he used to be. Ten years had passed since Patriarch Linh, now living as Lau, had bent the knee to Arianna, surrendering his title along with the ancestral tree to her. He sometimes wished he could say that moving from the lofty heights he once occupied to the mundane existence of an advisor¡ªor an elder, as she called it¡ªhad been difficult. But Lau would be lying to himself if he claimed so. His role as a leader hadn''t changed much; despite surrendering the title, he continued to guide his people as their steward. Arianna held the symbols of monarchy but never acted as a monarch. In the ten years that followed, she ventured on mysterious errands, returning only occasionally to wander the streets like a curious tourist. The only notable change for the Umbryan poulation was the absence of new children, yet for Lau and most elves in the capital, life remained largely the same. It wasn''t a bad outcome, Lau felt¡ªhe was alive, surrounded by his people in his capital, where he could have easily been exiled or executed, as he might have done in her place. Lau was content with this. He scattered feed across the shimmering surface of the pond, while Cam¡ªthe loyal servant and confidant of the body''s previous owner, now his¡ªwatched over him. ¡°They''re fascinating, don''t you think, Cam?¡± Lau mused, breaking the silence. "What is, Lord?¡± Cam asked. ¡°How these creatures depend so much on our care, yet are wholly unaware of the complexities of our existence.¡± Unaware that if, one day, Lau felt this no longer brought him peace, they would perish¡ªeither from cold or hunger. But he kept those thoughts to himself. Cam looked up, considering Lau¡¯s words. ¡°They seem content, Lord, not knowing the burdens we carry. Do you not think they are better off like they are?¡± Lau pondered the question, his eyes still fixed on the peaceful water. ¡°There¡¯s a simplicity in their existence that is enviable. They are spared the weight of knowledge and consequence. But without such knowledge, can one truly understand or appreciate tranquility?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a hard thought, Lord. If peace is only valuable against the backdrop of chaos, isn¡¯t that a kind of burden too?¡± Cam asked, genuinely curious. ¡°Yes, it is a burden,¡± Lau agreed, nodding slowly. ¡°Yet, it is this burden that enriches our experience. There''s a human saying that ignorance is bliss, but I believe knowing the darkness gives light its meaning. We strive, we suffer, but we also cherish because we understand the alternative.¡± Cam mulled over Lau¡¯s words, but before either could add more, their exchange was abruptly interrupted as the sky darkened ominously. Cam''s gaze shifted skyward. ¡°Lord, Lord! What is that?¡± Cam¡¯s voice trembled with alarm. At the sight Cam pointed to, Lau''s heart skipped a beat. Hovering in the sky, blocking the sun, was a gigantic eyeball¡ªred, eldritch, if not demonic¡ªstaring unblinkingly down at them. The sight was terrifyingly familiar to Lau. It reminded him of someone he''d learned to fear. Over time, living as Lau, he''d convinced himself she was harmless as long as he didn¡¯t provoke her wrath. But right now, seeing that iris move, unblinkingly fixing upon him, fear he believed to have forgotten returned.. ¡°Arianna,¡± Lau winced, his voice barely a whisper. Few would recognize the name, but most noctil elves knew her by another. It was under that name he had bent the knee, surrendering the capital without its people realizing her villainy, even hailing her as a hero. Lost in chaotic thought, his gaze fixed on the red-irised eyeball, Lau heard Cam¡¯s voice calling him back. ¡°Lord, Lord!¡± Cam called, shaking his shoulder and pointing upward. ¡°Lord, on you!¡± Trying to follow Cam¡¯s gesture, Lau first noticed what hovered above Cam¡¯s head. Then, as he looked above himself and saw nothing, he turned to the nearby pond. Using the darkened water as a mirror, he saw it¡ªa spectral sword, glowing ominously above his head, just like the one above Cam. ¡°Lord Lau, this is...¡± ¡°I don''t know, Cam,¡± Lau replied, his voice steady but tense. ¡°But I know for a fact this is nothing good.¡±
Sunlight spilled across the open-air market in the heart of the elven capital, catching the gleam of glass bottles perched on Mina¡¯s stall. The young, one hundred fifty-seven-year-old elf tucked a raven-black strand behind her long ear and offered a soft, knowing smile to each passerby. Her slender fingers moved with practiced care, adjusting the unique products she displayed. While proud of the uniqueness of her wares, Mina knew that novelty alone wouldn''t sell them. She gave the passersby quite a performance¡ªa slight tilt of her head, the graceful set of her shoulders¡ªthese subtle gestures proved as enticing as the fragrances themselves, if not more so, drawing onlookers to linger a moment longer. This had been the rhythm of her morning, until now, when her wares lay ignored, forgotten even by herself. Her gaze¡ªlike everyone else¡¯s¡ªwas riveted skyward. It started with a faint dimming, like a cloud crossing the sun, then plunged the capital into sudden obscurity. As if the cloud had been replaced by something far larger and denser, an immense shape materialized¡ªa massive, lidless eye, its iris blood-red and filled with unfathomable malevolence. A hush rippled through the plaza. Merchants paused mid-barter, and passersby clutched their robes closer, as if chilled by an unseen wind. Mina heard only her own breathing and the frantic thump of her heart, a fear blooming within her like one she hadn''t felt in a decade. She found herself stepping back, nearly knocking over her perfume display, as she managed to tear her eyes from that floating horror. Massive enough to cast a shifting shadow across the entire capital, the monstrous pupil trained on the city as though it sought something¡ªor someone¡ªamong them. Suddenly, in the same heartbeat that the giant eye appeared, a spectral sword flickered into existence just above everyone¡¯s head. Through a nearby bottle¡¯s reflection, Mina saw she was no exception. She spun around, finding with strange relief that no one was spared. Every elf around her, every man and woman throughout the square, had the same faintly glowing weapon suspended in the air overhead. It didn''t take long for a collective gasp of recognition to tear from the crowd. They couldn¡¯t help but recognize the spectral sword as the one hovering above the Binding Queen, the chain maiden, the hero who had saved the capital from the vicious white serpent a decade ago. For a moment, despite the colossal, bloodshot eyeball overhead¡ªwhose gaze Mina couldn¡¯t help but notice had shifted¡ªshe sensed a collective relief. If the Binding Queen¡¯s blade was here, surely help was near. Surely they would be protected. Or so she and her fellow noctil elves thought. As Mina watched, the eyeball¡¯s gaze shifted again. Instead of surveying the city as a whole, it now seemed to peer at them in particular, bringing down an odd, cold silence, thinner than the hush before. It was as if the entire city held its breath. But Mina, like everyone around her, rapidly realized it wasn¡¯t the city that went silent but themselves¡ªtheir eyes, their ears, their whole beings were locked onto the unblinking gaze whose focus was upon them. And then, in that corner¡ªwhere a group of elves stood transfixed, heads tilted up, mouths slightly open in silent horror¡ªthe glowing swords above them descended as one. There was no clang of steel, no splash of blood. These swords were like phantoms slicing through mist. Yet every single elf beneath those blades collapsed at once, faces vacant, limbs folding. For a heartbeat, none of the unaffected crowd comprehended what they had just witnessed. Then, as realization set in, it was as if a dam burst¡ªscreams rose. High-pitched, terrified cries echoed among the wooden buildings and drifted through the curving streets. ¡°...dead¡­dead!¡± ¡°Run!¡± someone shrieked. ¡°They¡¯re dead! They¡¯re all¡ªdead!¡± Just like that, Mina, along with over three hundred noctil elves, collapsed to the ground, lifeless. Their last moments were marked by the vision of a simple notification: [Warning] You''ve been cursed!
Panic clutched at Arty¡¯s chest. His own voice joined the chorus of fear echoing through the streets. Instinct roared at him: flee. He needed no further prompting. He turned and ran, his smithing tools and pouches clattering to the ground behind him. Others did the same, weaving in every direction. Some tried frantically to bat away the swords hovering over their heads, their hands slicing through the spectral forms to no effect. High above, the giant eye loomed, its iris shifting, locking onto other pockets of the city in a slow, methodical sweep. Each time the gaze fell on another cluster of elves, screams followed. The spectral swords plummeted, slicing away life with eerie, silent ease. Though no blood was spilled, each victim¡¯s body hit the earth as surely as if they had been cut down by real steel. Arty¡¯s heart hammered in his chest. His legs burned from running, but his mind insisted he keep going. Chaos raged around him¡ªhe saw husbands shielding their wives in alleyways, vendors abandoning entire stalls of precious goods, friends pulling at each other so neither would be left behind. Everywhere, spectral swords glowed overhead¡ªevery elf marked. He dashed through the winding streets, nearly tripping over a tangle of bodies. Stifling a sob, he spotted an open door¡ªa shop into which many elves had run to seek refuge, hoping the eye in the sky wouldn¡¯t see them. It seemed a good idea. Arty lunged toward it, but just as he neared, a group of elves slammed the door shut from the inside. Their panicked eyes met his for the briefest second through a grimy window. Fear strangled his chest at their betrayal. He pounded once on the door, but it was clear they had no intention of letting him in. With a soft, stricken sound, he tore himself away.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Running, he glanced UP. The giant eye¡¯s pupil glided¡ªa black center in a sea of red¡ªsearching, scanning. Looking for me? he couldn¡¯t help but dread, his breath growing more frantic. Despite the intensifying feeling of doom, he sprinted onward. A sign bearing a spool of thread and needles swayed above the next doorway¡ªa textile shop. Seeing the windows closed but the door ajar, hope surged within him. He slipped inside before his courage could fail. Inside, it was dark and still, empty. Racks of colorful cloth loomed like silent sentinels. Arty pushed the door shut, suppressing a whimper at the sudden echo of his own heartbeat in his ears. He braced himself against the wood, breathing raggedly, dreading the spectral blade to descend at any moment. The screams outside bled through the walls, muffled yet inescapable. Closing his eyes, he pressed his hands to his ears. Seconds stretched into minutes. The screams outside waxed and waned, a chaotic chorus of horror that felt as though it would never end. His own breathing slowed, but his terror did not abate. Sitting there in his pathetic little corner, he realized with brutal clarity how helpless he was. He wanted to believe that a hero¡ªsomeone like the Binding Queen¡ªwould save them. But the faint glow emitted by the sword hanging overhead killed such hope. He wanted to believe that his Patriarch would put an end to this horror, but the screams he tried hard to ignore made him wonder: Where was he? What was he doing while his people were dying left and right? How could he be saved? Where could salvation come from? He¡¯d yet to find an answer to that question when a sharp, cold prickle ran down his spine. Something felt¡­ wrong. He forced himself to lower his trembling hands from his ears, allowing the outside cacophony to flood his senses once more. His gaze fell to his own palms. An instant of disbelief stretched into dawning horror. Embedded into the skin of his left palm, staring back at him, was a miniature eye¡ªminiature compared to the monstrous one in the sky, but normal-sized compared to an elven eye. Its glaring red iris¡ªa perfect copy of the monstrous one haunting the skies¡ªshifted, following his gaze as his hand trembled. Arty could feel the crushing sense of being seen¡ªhis entire soul laid bare and silent before this pitiless gaze. [Warning] You¡¯ve been cursed! After that notification, he felt¡­ nothing. In an absolute sense, darkness tugged at his vision. His knees gave out. The last thought that passed through his mind before he collapsed, still staring at that dreadful eye on his palm, was the same dreadful truth that had consumed every corner of the city: There would be no escape from the gaze of the giant eyeball.
Vinh, the capital¡¯s most celebrated weaver, clutched a spool of golden and black threads as he stood frozen in his workshop''s basement. His hands trembled, the spool slipping from his fingers. Unbeknownst to him, the giant eye¡¯s iris had shifted its gaze, staring down at Vinh''s workshop. The one thousand two hundred forty-four-year-old noctil elf''s breath hitched as the spectral sword hovering above him descended. He saw the notification flash before his vision: [Warning] You¡¯ve been cursed! His body crumpled to the floor, lifeless, colorful threads unraveling around him.
¨¢ivy, a mother, shielded her child¡ªthe youngest of the Umbryan family¡ªin her arms. Tears streamed down her face as she begged the heavens for mercy. There was no mercy. The spectral sword hung motionless above her, as if mocking her desperation. Then, in one silent motion, it plunged through her. Her last vision was the damning message: [Warning] You¡¯ve been cursed! Her body fell, her child still clutched tightly in her arms.
¨¢ivy''s son, barely eleven years old, didn¡¯t get the chance to mourn his mother. At the same moment the sword descended upon her, the spectral sword hovered above his small frame descended swiftly. The child¡¯s cries were silenced, replaced by a final notification that flashed even in his confused vision: [Warning] You¡¯ve been cursed! His tiny body slumped beside his mother¡¯s, together for a final time.
Caelir, a retired blacksmith, stood defiantly in the square, gripping his old hammer. ¡°Come on, then!¡± he shouted at the unfeeling gaze of the giant eye. The sword above him gleamed faintly before it descended. The hammer slipped from his grip as his vision blurred, replaced by the notification: [Warning] You¡¯ve been cursed! His frame collapsed, the fire of defiance extinguished.
Ithalien, a young and promising Memory Keeper, frantically conjured her magics, her voice cracking with desperation. The magic circle she summoned fizzled into useless sparks as the sword above her head shimmered. She unleashed a lightning bolt, which streaked through the space between her and the giant eye. But before she could witness the futility of her attempt¡ªfor that¡¯s what it was¡ªthe lightning simply streaked through the giant eyeball as though it were made of illusion. Her final sight was her lightning bolt vanishing into the sky and the inevitable warning: [Warning] You¡¯ve been cursed!
Understanding there was nothing he¡ªor anyone¡ªcould do against the curse-casting monstrosity, Lau led as many people as he could gather with the intent of leaving the domain. While he didn¡¯t possess the skills or abilities that enabled the conjuration of this monstrosity, his affinity points invested in the Spiritual Affinity¡ªparticularly in curse-related aspects¡ªoffered him insight. He knew this curse relied on the domain to manifest. He had enough time to ponder the purpose of this attack and arrived at a grim conclusion. She wasn¡¯t here in the Umbryan domain. She was likely out there, pursuing the ultimate goal she had declared herself to be the one she¡¯s after¡ªdefeating Cleon, the One and Only. And they, the Umbryan family, Lau¡¯s people, were the ones paying the price for it. Lau had bent his knee to her, lived this life at her whim. But this¡ªthis he could not allow. It was his people for whom he, despite his pride, surrendered his ancestral sigil. He wanted his people to survive, and now she intended to slaughter them in such a cowardly way, while most of them still hoped for their very killer to save them. There was no way he could allow that. But what could he do? Now at the border of the Umbryan domain, Lau unleashed an attack at the sigil that once belonged to him. The despair-inducing hum of his assault echoed alongside the attacks of the many others he had gathered in their attempt to break free. But no matter how many attacks they hurled, the prison did not budge. That¡¯s when realization struck him. Or to be exact he was forced to acknowledge it. She had said it herself during one of her rare visits to the capital to play ?¨¢ Vay with him. While connected to the ancestral tree of the Umbryan people, she couldn¡¯t utilize its most basic functions. One of the only abilities she had access to was manifesting the Ancestral Tree as either a barrier or a prison. She had left the Ancestral Tree here as a prison because she expected them all to attempt an escape. She had predicted this, so it made sense that she would leave a prison strong enough that no one could break free. Lau had come to bitterly understand just how meticulous she was. She wouldn¡¯t make the mistake of leaving behind a prison with weak confines that they could easily break through. Sure, leaving such a powerful prison here suggested that she was out there with an inferior version of the Obsidial Tree¡ªfar from optimal, considering she was most likely facing a monarch with full access to his sigil. But that hinted at a far more terrible reality. If she was willing to make that concession, then she must have gained something substantial in return¡ªsomething that would ultimately come at the cost of all their lives, he realized. Having brought as many people as he could to the border and having exhausted all means to break this prison, that dread he felt solidified into a massive and painful lump in his chest. He understood that this was reality, but as bitter as it was, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to stop trying. Out of MP, he resorted to clawing at the prison, his hatred for the ethereal tree surging like never before. He attacked the sigil as many others did, even after their magic ran dry, until suddenly¡ªthere was calm. No more screams of despair or pain. No more sounds of relentless, futile attacks. No more hum of response from the Obsidial Tree. Just stillness, as the sound of bodies collapsing around him filled the void. Dread and surprise washed over him as he realized he hadn¡¯t yet collapsed like the others. His sword still hovered above his head. He turned to face the gaze of the giant eye that now rested upon him. At the sight of that unfeeling eye, Lau sighed, defeated. His gaze drifted to Cam¡¯s lifeless body nearby. The despair he felt in this moment dwarfed even the pain of surrendering his sigil or dying at Arianna¡¯s hands. But this¡­ this he could not accept. There was no fairness in this. At least none he could find. He wanted to vent his feelings, to shout his anguish to the heavens. But something about the emotionless gaze of the giant eyeball told him it wasn¡¯t worth it. His words would go nowhere. Lau sighed again, whispering his final words, ¡°Whatever you did all of this for, I hope it was at least worth it.¡± With those words, Lau, formerly Linh, Patriarch of the Umbryan family, Monarch of the Noctils elves drew his last breath and collapsed as the cursed notification flashed before him: [Warning] You¡¯ve been cursed! *** All across the capital, lives ended in eerie synchronicity¡ªby dozens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands¡ªthe number fluctuating up and down as if part of a macabre dance. The giant eye in the sky moved its iris rapidly, the pupil zooming in and out, struggling to keep pace with the chaotic scene below. For twenty-four minutes and twelve seconds, this hell persisted, the eye claiming everyone its gaze settled upon. Then, as the iris and pupil dilated to the point where the eye became entirely red, it issued a final notification to the remaining elves of the capital. In that moment, all the elves of the capital collapsed, bringing an end to the Umbryan elven family. With the capital now completely silent, the eye in the sky underwent a grotesque transformation. It blinked¡ªslow, deliberate, and final. Then, the eye began to distort. The iris stretched grotesquely, and the pupil collapsed inward as if devouring itself. Flesh-like textures rippled across the sclera as the eye warped. It was no longer an eye. It became a mouth. Jagged teeth erupted from the void, each tooth towering like an unholy spire, crooked and stained with some unknowable decay. The maw stretched wider and wider until the capital sky itself seemed swallowed by its presence. Within the gaping chasm, a darkness churned¡ªa bottomless, devouring void. Then the chains came. They didn¡¯t fall from the mouth¡ªthey manifested, tearing through the air with a sound like screaming iron. Black as pitch, the chains snaked downward, slithering like mechanical serpents with cruel intent. The chains spread across the capital, weaving through narrow alleys, sprawling across grand plazas, and delving into shadowed basements. They reached into every corner of the Umbryan domain, crossing the land like veins feeding a great beast. Wherever they went, they sought the newly dead. In the streets of the capital, where countless elven bodies lay lifeless, the chains wrapped around them with unerring precision. In darkened basements, where the freshly fallen had been hidden from view, they ripped apart walls and shattered doors to claim their prey. The capital itself groaned under the onslaught¡ªwooden walls splintered, rooftops caved, and castles crumbled as the chains rampaged through the city in search of corpses. Upon reaching a corpse, the chains lifted the dead¡ªall limp, their lifeless forms offering no resistance. They dangled in the air like grotesque offerings, swaying gently as the chains dragged them higher. The streets, once filled with life and bustling with activity, were now eerily silent, populated only by the limp bodies of the fallen elves being drawn toward the gaping maw in the heavens. The mouth widened as the first of the dead reached it, its jagged teeth grinding together in anticipation. One by one, the bodies were swallowed, disappearing into the abyss. The relentless harvest continued with no one left to witness it¡ªexcept for one man standing in the midst of the ruin that was now the Umbryan capital. Playing with his cane, he smiled, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "Well, well, well, if this isn''t a sight," he murmured, his voice carrying a dark amusement. ¡°I¡¯m sure you would have loved seeing this. What an unfortunate thing that you can¡¯t, or that this isn¡¯t dedicated to you. Perhaps I should have her and her¡ªNo, I shouldn¡¯t do that. I promised I wouldn¡¯t interfere. She seems to believe my words mean something. How about, for fairness''s sake, I prove her right.¡± With those words, he abandoned his vessel¡ªa noctil elf who¡¯d already been executed by the eyeball in the sky. The moment he left the vessel, the body¡ªor, more accurately, the corpse¡ªcollapsed from the rooftop where it had stood. But before the corpse met the ground, the chains claimed their prize, dragging it into the abyss along with the rest. Chapter 55: Arianna ¡°How?¡± "How, you ask?" I asked Cleon, hovering above my sword, then spreading my arms wide. "Simple, really," I declared, reaching for the crown floating above my head. "I am no monarch." In that moment, something appeared¡ªor rather, something that had always been there revealed itself. Since the moment I activated it at the beginning of this fight, Tharazuul, the Rotten Beholder had remained dormant. The summon, both eldritch and demonic, had slipped into an ethereal state, undamageable and nearly invisible. It was easy to ignore, a shadow hidden from sight. But now, exiting its dormancy, the eldritch monstrosity that had been following me regained full visibility, allowing Cleon to witness its true horror once again. "I am Arianna, Archon of Heresy, the Bane of the Living, Breaker of Souls, Eldritch Among Abominations." The words rolled from my tongue like a curse. Tharazuul''s countless small eyes blinked open, and soon after, the massive central one followed. All of them fixed on a shuddering Cleon as I reached into the wide mouth Tharazuul opened for me. "I am the Hand that Commands Death Manifest." "What have you done?" Cleon asked, horror twisting his voice, as if he instinctively knew. "Just what needed to be done," I declared, activating [Death Manifest] the same way I had invoked [Echo of Agony] and [Blood Oath]¡ªthrough Tharazuul, like one might channel magic through a staff. As I did, the monstrosity trembled from the overload, and something unspeakably foul began to coalesce in my hands. When it was done, Tharazuul crumbled, spent and broken. I stared at what it left behind. I had witnessed countless horrors, but this¡ªthis was unlike anything I had ever encountered. Its wickedness wasn¡¯t in its appearance or smell: it was merely a crimson orb, seething with immeasurable power¡ªpower that eclipsed even Cleon¡¯s strongest attacks. What made it truly abominable was its very origin, the vile process by which it had been created. With [Death Manifest], rather than simply gathering experience from my kills, the ability allowed me to harvest the essence of those deaths and shape it into a curse¡ªone that bypassed every known defense by directly draining HP, SP, and MP. In other words, this orb was an amalgamation of every soul I had claimed in the Umbryan capital. "What have you done?!" Cleon repeated, his voice a cry of utter horror and despair. I couldn¡¯t blame him. I hadn¡¯t expected this reaction from myself either, but here I was. Gently stroking the orb, I asked Cleon, "Can you hear their pleas too? No? Because I do. I hear them all." I sighed, watching my fatigue percentage spike rapidly. Casting curses, hexes, and jinxes had always come with a boon¡ªthey didn¡¯t consume much MP. In terms of actual damage, that made sense. But the fatigue costs were usually minimal, which made it easy to abuse. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d seen my fatigue percentage climb ridiculously high because of a curse or hex. It was always my cryomantic abilities or my use of ice magic that drained me the most. But today, using [Death Manifest] to create this vile thing, I watched my fatigue percentage climb into the eighties, just like that. It made sense, considering the sheer number of souls I¡¯d refined¡ªenough to overload Tharazuul. But the mental burden that came with this thing left me in a far different mood than the one I¡¯d expected when this moment came. The voices screamed in unison, an additional weight urging me to end this battle here and now. "I hear all of their cries, and there¡¯s one that keeps asking me if what I did was worth it. How about we figure that out?" Cleon, foreseeing my intent and having a reasonable assumption of the might condensed in that little red orb, turned his back and ran for his life. The sight elicited a feeble chuckle from me. "Run, little mouse. Make this all the more entertaining," I declared, following. He was fast¡ªfaster than I¡¯d ever seen him. I struggled to catch up, but I took it calmly. While the distance between us widened, I was also shrinking the size of the Obsidial Tree enclosing us. Ultimately, the distance he ran was irrelevant. He would soon be stopped by the sigil¡¯s prison properties. Upon arriving at the sigil¡¯s edge, he looked back and finally understood. I hadn¡¯t manifested the Obsidial Tree to stop outside interference or to shield myself. The moment I summoned it, it had been to ensure he would never escape me. Realizing that mere brute force wouldn¡¯t suffice, Cleon transformed one of his sigils into a greatsword, one that shone with blinding light. Drawing on massive resources, he unleashed a reality-bending attack, shattering my barrier. I winced at the sight. I¡¯d hoped it would hold better than that, but I knew I was expecting too much from the Obsidial Tree after splitting so much of its resources. Still, a wince was the extent of my bitter reaction, because the moment Cleon took to unleash that attack was enough. Just as he had reforged his sigils, I summoned a spiritual bow then reforged the red orb of condensed evil into an arrow. I notched it onto my bowstring, its energy pulsating like the heart of a dying star. Screams and cries echoed, dragging me back to that foul place once again. The air crackled, thick with power as I aimed at Cleon. The sky itself seemed to recoil, the clouds parting as if to escape the cataclysm I was about to unleash. Cleon made yet another dash for his life, only to be violently stopped once again by another layer of my Obsidial Tree¡ªone I hadn¡¯t shrunk to block him. Yes, I may not have access to the elven sigil¡¯s revival feature, but like the elven monarch, I would always keep an Ancestral Tree ready as a last resort. Like a scolded child, Cleon looked back at me, his face a mask of despair and fear, illuminated by the sinister glow of the arrow as I drew it back, the string creaking under the weight of impending doom. Releasing the bowstring, time seemed to fracture. The arrow burst forward, a red comet tearing through the space between us with a ferocity that turned the air to fire. It screamed through the cosmos, a herald of obliteration, devouring light, sound, and matter in its insatiable fury. I withdrew my sigil¡ªdestroying it myself would have been a waste of resources. Cleon, seeing no escape from what was coming, lifted his arms to shield himself, hurriedly calling his sigil into action against the absolute annihilation that awaited. As it struck Cleon, the impact was apocalyptic. The world exploded into a symphony of red. The sea beneath him boiled as if the very depths were enraged, sending up clouds of steam and fume, while the sky crackled with raw electrical energy. Fire scorched the heavens, and darkness spread like a plague, each element amplifying the arrow''s devastating effect. Everything shook¡ªair, water, the very fabric of reality. And then, as the tumult reached its peak, everything abruptly turned black. Silence fell, a heavy, oppressive blanket following. As the chaos subsided, I scanned the surrounding expanse, coming to a fishy realization. No level-up chime, no influx of experience points, and most notably, none of the skill acquisition I had anticipated. It was clear: Cleon had not perished in that attack. Peering down into the tumultuous sea, my suspicions were confirmed. From the frothy waves emerged a figure¡ªCleon''s, battered and significantly diminished. The attack had shattered his sigils, a fact that brought a grim satisfaction. He clung to a makeshift little platform, his form a grotesque tapestry of injuries: limbs missing, skin melted away to reveal bone in grotesque patches. The notification of his healing skill flashed before me, sparking an instinctual rush from me in his direction. However, his attempt at recovery was abruptly cut short. Something had interrupted his spell, and there was only one reason I could think of¡ªand that brought a wicked smile to my lips. Slowing my advance, I savored the moment, watching him frantically paddle away, casting fearful glances over his shoulder. His silent pleas hung in the air¡ªnot directed at me, but at his kings. Pleas that would go unanswered. I knew all too well that Goblin had every one of them securely locked away in his sigil. Observing his pitiful attempt to escape was oddly satisfying. Cleon had long been a persistent pest, not because of any intrinsic enmity towards us Dungeon Masters¡ªhis title bore no inherent opposition to us like the Seraphims clinging to their stolen authorities did. It was just his obsession with being the "one and only" that had made him a nuisance, obstructing our mission to reclaim the Goddess''s authority. As much as I would like to claim my motives were purely out of devotion to the Goddess, I couldn''t deny the personal satisfaction in seeing him reduced to this state. It wasn¡¯t just about him being an obstacle; there was a personal gratification I felt at this sight. Mustering enough resources to do so, the platform lifted, allowing him to gain some speed. Watching this, I readied myself to wrap this up. Just as I was about to strike, to put an end to this miserable worm once and for all, something unexpected happened. "Huh?!" Well, perhaps saying that "something" unexpected happened was inaccurate, as there wasn''t just one thing that occurred in that moment but three¡ªalmost simultaneously. The first was a notification appearing in the corner of my vision. That skill¡ªI could tell through my Identification skill¡ªwasn''t something Cleon summoned, but rather someone else. I barely had a second after coming to that realization to notice the second thing happening. Out of nowhere, I was brought into a domain. Not just any domain, but an elven domain, created by the manifestation of a sigil¡ªan ancestral tree¡ªthat suddenly encompassed me and Cleon at its center. Now, the question was naturally: whose ancestral tree is this? This wasn''t Goblin''s Solith Tree, Patriarch Farmi''s Cinnabar Tree, or Aquaflora''s Lunith Tree. The sigil surrounding us, about 30 meters in diameter, was white in color, but so dim it might as well have been thoroughly transparent. Since this wasn''t Goblin''s, Aquaflora''s, or Patriarch Farmi''s ancestral tree, whose was it? I didn''t get even a fraction of a second to pursue that question before noticing silhouettes in the corner of my vision¡ªsilhouettes that could answer that question. Yes, silhouettes¡ªbecause there weren''t just one or two people that appeared out of nowhere, most likely thanks to that skill my Identification detected. The same skill that teleported the sigil around us had brought them here. There weren''t one, two of them, but three. At first, my heart jumped at that observation, then jumped again at a much more alarming one¡ªthey were three men. As in men¡ªthe species. No elves among them. Just like I could tell through my Identification skill who the Teleportation Magic skill wielder was, I could tell who among the three was manifesting that white, uncannily thin sigil. It was the same person¡ªa human. A fucking human. As if I hadn''t had my dose of unpleasant surprises¡ªbecause all of this had been unpleasant¡ªI got hit with another. Among the three men, looking to the left of the teleportation magic wielder, onto whom my focus had immediately locked, I recognized a face that, I admit, stunned me for a second or two. "You..." I heard Cleon react. Cleon recognized the man¡ªhow could he not? To Cleon, he was one of his kings. Not just any king, but one of his first¡ªKing Dominic, the late third king and former head of the Evermere Kingdom. I recognized him too. How couldn¡¯t I? I¡¯m the one who put "late" and "former" before his titles. I killed him. Yes, I killed him. He was the king I struck down to lure Cleon to the Voidborne Catacomb. Two of them appraised me¡ªDominic and the teleportation magic user. Failing to do so, they then appraised Cleon behind me.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "What the fuck is going on?!" I killed him. I killed King Dominic. I¡¯m sure of it¡ªI gained his experience points. Yet here he was, standing before me, flanked by two unfamiliar faces, exchanging glances and clearly about to do something. In that moment, I admit I panicked and let my instincts take over. What those instincts dictated¡ªmost likely due to the only record I had of a human using an Ancestral Tree¡ªwas that nothing good could come from being trapped inside one. So, the instinct I acted on was simple: break free from this prison, no matter how harmless it felt. I manifested spiritual swords and unleashed them¡ªhalf at the uninvited guests, the other half at the ancestral tree enclosing us. My impression of the barrier didn¡¯t lie to me. It shattered with just that. It was, as I instinctively felt, paper thin. Such a simple attack was enough to destroy it. Satisfied with that result, I looked at my other attempt to see a less satisfying result¡ªthe teleportation magic wielder shielded by his companions'' weapons. "Tsk." I cast a glance at Cleon, about to ask the question that, upon seeing his face, I realized the answer to. Then, as I glanced at him again¡ªthe man I killed¡ªa certain realization dawned upon me, one that made me hesitate about what to do with Cleon, especially when I heard the three bastards speak with urgency. "Was sollen wir tun?!" "Es sieht so aus, als h?tte sie den Kaiser besiegt!" Huh? What language is that? That¡¯s not human, elven, or even dwarven¡ªhuh! Wait! I froze. My brain stalled for a moment, struggling to catch up with all the realizations crashing down on me¡ªa critical mistake. By the time I snapped back to my senses and devised a plan of action¡ªwhich, naturally, was to finish what I had started and kill Cleon¡ªthe timing was already precarious. Still, given everything I had just realized, I still felt I was reasonably swift with it. Unfortunately I wasn¡¯t swift enough. I unleashed my weapons to finish the job, but Cleon¡ªthe bastard¡ªshielded himself with an ability, merely pushing himself away from me. Determined to end it properly, I summoned my arsenal for a decisive strike. But before I could release it, the film-thin ancestral tree manifested around me, swallowing me whole into its domain. Just like earlier, I intended to break it. But before I could do that, two notifications flashed: "Huh!?" Almost as instantly as the sudden ambush, I experienced a jarring shift in scenery. One moment, Cleon was within reach of my spells and blades; the next, he was gone. One moment, there was sea below and sky above. The next, the world buckled, folded, and swallowed me whole. When I opened my eyes, I was somewhere...else. A pale, translucent barrier surrounded me¡ªan ancestral tree, not once but twice. The first layer resembled the manifestation of the Ancestral Tree I had just dismantled¡ªthin, fragile, and within arm''s reach. The second layer stood farther away, with enough space between them to evoke the feeling of a vast estate. Its trunk towered above me, its branches clawing outward like brittle bones straining to break free. It was much thicker¡ªno, perhaps "less thin" is more accurate¡ªthan the smaller ersatz of an Ancestral Tree. It flickered, momentarily dimming, and in those brief intervals, it revealed glimpses of what lay beyond¡ªan unsettling sight that was becoming impossible to ignore. Chaos. A world of endless storms, roiling shadows, and chaos stretched before me. A maelstrom of swirling colors, fragmented and torn like shards of broken glass suspended in a hurricane. It felt alive. It felt violent¡ªpulsating and impossibly vast, with light that bent in ways defying all logic. Earlier, my instincts had screamed at me to destroy the sigil in which I was trapped. But now, those same instincts warned me¡ªat any cost¡ªnot to do so. Though I wasn¡¯t directly in contact with this chaos since it existed beyond the second, larger sigil¡ªI could still feel its presence even here, within the relative safety of the sigil¡¯s boundaries. The air was heavy and oppressive, vibrating with an energy that grated against my skin. This was not the material world. And I could tell where this was. Anyone familiar with the intricacies of teleportation magic would recognize it. This is the Void, an empty plane only navigated by masters of teleportation arts, and I had been teleported here by one. How? Well, from the look of it, it seems I had been teleported here by teleporting the sigil I was just a fraction of a second trapped in. That was ingenious, I have to concede. Had I been chosen as the direct target, it¡¯s very unlikely I would have allowed myself to be so easily teleported. Now that question answered, here comes another one¡ªwhy was I teleported here? There was only a limited number of people that could answer that question. Upon withdrawing the sigil¡ªthe one they teleported me in¡ªI heard them speak again, in a language I didn¡¯t understand. I turned my head slowly, deliberately, catching sight of the three bastards from earlier as they immediately retreated to join their friends¡ªyes, friends¡ªfive of them, to be exact, who had apparently been lying in wait. That brought their total to eight. "Claudiu, was zum Teufel!" "Sie sieht doch v?llig in Ordnung aus!" "Ich kann das erkl?ren. Sie hat den Kampf gegen den Kaiser gewonnen und war kurz davor, ihn zu t?ten, als wir ankamen. Was hast du denn erwartet, was ich tun w¨¹rde!?" "Sie hat gewonnen!?" "Ja. Frag Anton." My gaze swept over them. They were armed, tense, and poised to strike, but they didn¡¯t attack outright. Not yet. They were talking, clearly strategizing, but not in a way I could understand. I could feel their eyes on me, studying me like a pack of wolves circling their prey. Worse still, they attempted to defile me. Again. I knew what this was. I¡¯d seen clumsy bandits try to pull this on me before: an ambush. An elaborate one, I conceded, but an ambush nonetheless. I took another breath, slow and steady, my mind calculating while simultaneously trying not to overdo it. Just a moment earlier, I got to witness how overthinking could work against me. Let¡¯s start with what I know. I know this is an ambush, one with plenty of preparation behind it. For who? It was either for him or me. But if I had to guess, these bastards were looking for whoever was on the losing side. Strangely, from the tone of their discussion upon wrapping me here, it wasn¡¯t expected to be me¡ªunless¡­ unless I was exactly the one they expected to be here. But they didn¡¯t expect to find me still full of vitality, at least as far as appearances go. I see. That has to be it. That makes sense. Now, time to ask the question¡ªwhy would they want to ambush me or Cleon? I can see the logic behind ambushing us. However the fight went, it was bound to leave one of us dead and the other somewhat exhausted¡ª Wait a minute. As my thoughts ventured into accepting that their goal was to ambush the one left weakened in this fight, I came to a certain realization¡ªthe same one I felt earlier when I decided to finish off Cleon. That realization being that these bastards were after a corpse. After all, the first thing that dawned on me at the sight of them, and noticing Cleon''s expression of utter disbelief at the sight of his king, told me that these mongrels are the ones who stole the corpse of King Dominic¡ªwho I''m a hundred percent sure I killed and left as a letter of challenge to Cleon. Yet here he was, standing there. I would understand if he were undead¡ªa revenant somehow, one they brought to life using the corpse they stole¡ªbut that was not the case. This King Dominic is fully alive, as if he never died. But he died. That, I could confirm. So how? I could only imagine these corpse-stealing bastards did something to him. But what? I couldn''t tell precisely, but I could say with assurance that there is no necromantic or healing skill or ability that would bring a dead man like the dead man I left King Dominic back then back to life. In that moment, especially as I looked at them colluding in whatever language it was they were speaking, a theory sprouted in my mind: could this be the doing of an authority? Could it be that these people are fellow reincarnates like us, people reincarnated from another world? Those two conjectures fit so much of the puzzle. The existence of an authority could explain how "he" is still alive. I can see an authority bringing someone back to life. Wait¡­ what if the authority didn¡¯t just do that? The more I looked at the one I recognized as King Dominic, the more I was certain that this Dominic is not the one I killed. He didn¡¯t look at me the way I expected a revived Dominic would. I expected fear¡ªand I still see that¡ªbut the fear I see in the eyes of this one is missing the arrogance and stubbornness of the third king, a trait he shared with the first king, Tristan. The more I thought about it, the less doubt I had. I¡¯m dealing with someone else than that good old Dom. Someone else has taken his place through something I suspect to be an authority. As I still wondered what the right course of action was, the bastards'' discourse seemed to have reached a conclusion¡ªand for obvious reasons, I could feel this conclusion was not a good one. Not for me. So at this point, seeing no reason not to, I pointed at King Dominic¡ªor whoever he was now¡ªthen moved my pointed finger to the right, sliding it past the one with the teleportation magic, and stopped at the one who, despite me not understanding the language, spoke with the most authority. "Who are you people? And what do you want from me?" At the sight of me pointing my finger, the eight men¡ªwith the exception of the one I''d identified as the leader¡ªrecoiled as if expecting something terrible to shoot out of the said pointing finger. And to be frank, it might as well. Their involvement brought about the most basic Dungeon Master instinct in me¡ªto kill them. But I was reasonable enough to understand that communication might be one of the smoothest ways to secure an ancestral tree. Goblin and the others did that with the Rule and Overrule authority. Syre they had to knock sense back into him first, but ultimately it was possible to reason with him once his senses came back. So why wouldn¡¯t I consider communication when it¡¯s an option? Who knows? Perhaps this¡ªwhatever this ambush¡¯s purpose is¡ªhas a grand plan that fits our grand goal of helping the goddess. Part of me thought that. But I have to admit, the other part of me¡ªthe bigger part of me¡ªwanted to give in to my kill-on-sight policy. But as it stood, I had a reason that made me cling to that sliver of hope that somehow there were other fellow reincarnates out there who might have the same drive as us Dungeon Master. "Claudiu, Anton, Michael, geht und macht ihn fertig. Holt seinen K?rper zur¨¹ck. Wir halten sie hier auf ¨C vielleicht schaffen wir es, sie zu t?ten." "Bist du sicher, Aur¡ª" "Geht einfach!" "Ja!" After exchanging in that language I wasn¡¯t familiar with, he did it again. "Crap¡ª" Upon seeing him manifest that paper-thin sigil once again and call forth the same skill that allowed him to teleport here, I realized what resolution they¡¯d come to. I rushed to catch him. In an instant, I closed in on them, but I wasn¡¯t the only one fast. They swiftly wedged between me and the trio, who, before my very eyes, vanished. Where to? I could only imagine one place¡ªthe place they abducted me from. To do what? Assuming they were able to make use of King Dominic¡¯s corpse to create "him," it wouldn¡¯t be unreasonable to think they¡¯re after corpses¡ªcorpses of powerful humans. And what human is more powerful than Cleon? He might be at his most vulnerable state right now, and that¡¯s why I believe they returned there¡ªto finish him off. The thought pissed me off. I was fine with Cleon dying, but I wanted to kill the bastard myself. I¡¯ve sacrificed too much to just allow some randoms to steal my kill like that. Fellow reincarnate or not. As one of my foes came swinging a double-bladed axe with clear and vicious intent, I withdrew, my murderous stare locked on them. "I asked you a question! Or do you assholes just not speak the common language?" "Oh, my. Forgive us, Queen Arianna of the house Talulah," the man I had pegged as the leader of my ambushers replied smoothly. "It was rude of us." House¡­. "You are?" "My name is of little importance, but you may remember me as the Mashiach¡¯s right hand." "Mashiach... I take it that¡¯s not a name." "Indeed," he replied, "a title fit for him. For he is the light in the darkness, the voice that calls all souls to their salvation. The shepherd who will lead the lost to paradise, the chosen one who walks the path for all." Listening to the ramblings of that lunatic reminded me of those who vicariously worship the Seraphim as if they were gods. But more importantly, I came to realize that this bastard might not be the leader I took him for. "Shepherd, huh? And what¡ª" Mid-sentence, I halted myself, feeling utterly fed up with this and wondering internally¡ªwhat am I even doing? Is my mind getting sloppy? No¡­it¡¯s not that. I came to a realization. Regardless of whether this Mashiach¡ªtheir leader¡ªis a potential ally or enemy, from what I¡¯ve been told and the impression I¡¯ve gotten so far, it doesn¡¯t sound like he would be the former. But even if he were, what of it? He wouldn¡¯t be an equal to us Dungeon Masters? That¡¯s right. I trembled in epiphany. I thought I was steeled in that resolve, but it seems I was not yet. Loyal or not, I do not want myself or my fellow Dungeon Masters to be considered the equal of any of my fellow reincarnates. We¡¯ve gathered five authorities. There is no reason for us to consider ourselves the equal of anyone who did less than that. If they want to be our allies, they can be¡ªbut I will never consider them my equals. If they¡¯re not allies, then they can rot back in that place. That¡¯s right. I admit it. I¡¯ve reached a point where I¡¯ll easily accept a fellow reincarnate as an enemy to be subjugated rather than an ally. And right now staring at these people who might be from another world like we are, I was completely free of the hesitation that stopped me instantly initiating the hostilities. I took a look at my stats to see one of the two reasons I hadn¡¯t thrown myself at him and his friends immediately upon being teleported here¡ªmy fatigue percentage was through the roof. The other reason was their level. Though I didn¡¯t have Appraisal, I¡¯m good at gauging the strength of targets I set my eyes upon. Younger, I used to call that my Hexcaster intuition. That intuition told me I¡¯d be able to easily handle each of them individually, with each being relatively as strong as "King Dominic," ranging from level 70 to 90. While I would have had no hesitation to squabble with all eight of them, my fatigue percentage made me reluctant. Even now, with only five of them left, I still hesitated. Would there even be a more laughable fate than dying here after all I did to survive against Cleon? Remembering the fact that out there, three of these bastards were trying to steal my kill, I seethed with boiling anger. Looking at the face of the one who called himself Mashiach¡¯s right hand, how they looked at me with a certain greed but at the same time a certain fear, their grip firm on their weapon yet trembling¡ªmy patience reached its limits. "I was about to ask you what your Mashiach wants from me, but I just realized something¡ªI can ask him myself." Conjuring my spiritual arsenal, I showed them I was ready for a fight. Come on, what¡¯s that expression? You¡¯re the ones who chose to abduct me here. While the numbers¡ªbe it my status, fatigue percentage, or just the number of them¡ªwere stacked against me, I¡¯d rather die than play any part in this masquerade anymore. Understanding my stance, one of the men¡ªscarred, broad-shouldered, and visibly bristling with magic¡ªstepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he was the first to open hostilities, roaring like the lunatic he was. "F¨¹rchte weder den Tod noch die H?lle, denn der Messias hat uns den Weg ins Paradies gewiesen." Motivated by the lunatic¡¯s words, whatever they meant, the other men surged forward, emboldened by his fervor.