Inside the silent halls of Twilight Manor, Riveria Ljos Alf sat motionless. In her hands, a letter trembled slightly. Her expression was solemn, her jade-colored eyes clouded with a rare, flickering shadow of anxiety.
So, the day has finally come, she thought. Time truly does fly.
Her mind wandered back twelve years—to the image of Oberon as a child. He had been so fragile then, a small soul who seemed as though a stiff breeze might break him. Yet, despite being born with the rare blessing of the spirits, he never grew arrogant. He possessed a hunger for growth that surpassed any elf she had ever known. In just a decade, he had mastered the ancient magics of his lineage, driven by a will of pure iron.
A gentle knock broke her reverie.
"Riveria-sama? Pardon the intrusion," a voice called through the door. "Goddess Loki has summoned all executives to the briefing room."
"I understand. I'll be there shortly."
Riveria rose, taking a moment to smooth her emerald attire. On the surface, Orario was a bastion of peace, but she knew the world outside was screaming. The awakening of the One-Eyed Black Dragon had plunged the lands beyond the walls into a chaotic scramble for survival.
As she made her way through the manor—which seemed to grow larger and more crowded with new recruits every day—she spotted a small, solitary figure sitting in the central garden.
"Ais," Riveria called softly.
The girl didn't turn. She remained perched on the grass, staring blankly at a cluster of flowers. Riveria approached and placed a tender hand on the girl's golden hair.
"Do you like it, Ais?"
"I don't know," the girl replied, her voice as flat and hollow as a doll's. "I just... want to look."
"It is because they are beautiful," Riveria said, her voice softening with a mother's patience. "People are naturally drawn to things of beauty—their colors, their shapes. They offer a moment of quiet in a loud world."
"Beautiful?" Ais tilted her head, the concept seemingly alien to her.
"Yes. Beautiful." Riveria glanced at the Familia member tasked with watching the girl; they exchanged a knowing, weary nod. "I must go, Ais. You may play in the garden as long as you like."
The meeting room on the second floor was thick with the scent of old paper and Loki's cheap ale. As Riveria pushed the door open, a whining voice greeted her.
"Ah, Riveria! What took ya so long?" Loki sprawled across an entire sofa, dangling a leg over the edge.
"I was speaking with Ais," Riveria replied coolly, taking her seat beside Gareth. Across from them, Finn sat behind a desk piled high with new member applications.
"Ais, huh?" Loki huffed. "That kid is a tough nut to crack. I try to talk to her and all I get is a 'hum' and a nod."
Riveria's brow twitched. "That is because you speak nothing but nonsense to her, Loki. If you continue to be a bad influence, I will be forced to educate you with my staff."
Loki winced, sitting up straight. She knew Riveria wasn't bluffing.
"Now that we're all here," Finn interrupted, his voice turning sharp and professional. "Orario is stable on the surface—except in the Labyrinth. It's not the same, but still manageable. Outside Orario, however… there are hundreds of refugees from Fultone's destruction, and the land is completely abandoned."
The room went silent and heavy.
"Is it true, then? Nothing left of the north?" Gareth asked, his deep voice rumbling.
"The Kingdom of Fultone is gone," Finn confirmed. "The land is crawling with monsters driven mad by the Black Dragon's wake. The Guild has already tasked the Freya Familia with restoring order to the surrounding territories."
Loki rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "I'm surprised the neighboring empires aren't moving in to seize the land while it's vacant."
"They wouldn't dare," Riveria said firmly. "Because of Levos."
Finn nodded. "The Jarl of the Wishe Forest."
"Indeed," Riveria continued. "Any invading army must pass through the narrow gap bordering the Wishe. Levos would never allow a foreign boot to touch that soil. Even Altena and the Empire hesitate. Years ago, when Fultone and Altena joined forces to take the forest, Levos turned their entire vanguard to ash with a single incantation."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
"To do that without a Falna..." Loki whispered, a grin of genuine amusement spreading across her face. "High Elves are terrifying creatures, aren't they?"
"They remain untouched by the tragedies that birthed the Dungeon," Finn added. "You'll never find an elven ruin, because they have never been conquered." He turned to Riveria. "That man has a son, doesn't he? He'd be about ten now?"
"He is," Riveria said, her worry finally manifesting as a proud, bittersweet smile. "And today, he faces his first Trial."
"A trial? What kind?" Loki leaned in, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"The Ascent of Mount Alf. It is the most sacred site of our people, accessible only to the High Elves. The mountain is guarded by the Forest of the Lost—a place where the density of Mind and natural energy is so thick that the uninvited wander in circles for eternity."
Riveria looked toward the window, her gaze reaching far beyond the walls of Orario.
"Oberon... since he could first read, he has devoured every tome of magic. Since he could walk, he has pushed his body to the limit. He was born with the blessing of the spirits, but it is his soul—his pure, focused will—that makes him special. He doesn't just want to be strong; he wants to change the fate of our people."
She turned back to her friends, her eyes shining.
"He is the future of the Elven race."
Loki laughed, a wild, sharp sound. "Well now! I hope the kid makes it out of those woods. If I had a brat like that in my Familia... man, the world would get a whole lot more interesting!"
====x====
The sun crested over the peaks of the Alf Mountains, casting a pale gold light over Tanyl's coat. I finished feeding her—a mix of mineral powder and greens—and checked her hooves. She was in peak condition, radiating the kind of quiet strength only a noble stag can possess.
"You're in a fine mood today, girl," I murmured, patting her neck. She responded with a gentle snort, nuzzling my shoulder. "Ready for a hike?"
I climbed onto her back, and we began our ascent. The path was a natural wonder, a circular trail paved by the mountain itself. As we climbed, the air grew razor-sharp. I pulled my furs tight and draped a warm pelt over Tanyl's flanks to shield her from the biting wind.
An hour into our march around the western face, the clouds parted. My breath hitched. Far across the horizon, hundreds of kilometers away, a massive structure pierced the sky like a spear.
"Orario," I whispered.
Even from this distance, the city of the Gods felt daunting. A part of me burned to see it; another part felt a cold shiver of dread. My fear had subsided since meeting the Goddess Artemis, but the scars left by the 'human gods' ran deep. I could still hear their mocking laughter echoing in the back of my mind.
After circling the mountain seven times, we reached the ruins. It was a skeletal remain of marble and stone, scorched so deeply the rock itself seemed to have turned to charcoal.
I dismounted, my boots crunching on the soot-stained earth. I walked through the circular hall, passing empty stone bookshelves that stood like gravestones. In the center stood a headless statue, its upper body lost to time and violence.
"It's always the same," I sighed, running a hand over the darkened walls. "What history were they trying to bury?"
There were no signs of a struggle—no chips in the stone from blades or spells. Only the 'Great Fire' that had once driven half the population into the north, splitting the Elves into warring factions of Light and Dark. Finding no hidden passages or clues, I signaled Tanyl to move on.
====x====
We reached a massive cave entrance, forty meters high and draped in ancient murals. Darkness swallowed the interior, but a strange pull in my chest urged me forward.
As we crossed the threshold, a surge of raw natural energy slammed into me. It felt like a physical weight, cold and electric. We rounded a corner, and the darkness gave way to a sight that defied expectation.
It was a hidden Eden. Waterfalls cascaded into a misty abyss to the left, while light filtered through massive fissures in the ceiling, illuminating a lush forest growing atop stone pillars. Each landmass was a secluded island, separated by churning white water.
Tanyl let out a sharp, concerned huff, her muzzle pointing toward the undergrowth. I followed her gaze. My blood ran cold.
A Kobold. But not like any I had seen. It wore rusted, dusty armor and prowled with a predatory grace that felt... wrong.
"A Kobold? This deep in the forest?"
I drew my sword—a gift from my father, forged in the Far East from a metal so light it felt like a feather, yet strong enough to cleave steel. "Stay here, Tanyl."
I crept down the stone path and flicked my wrist to cast Earth Bullet. To my horror, the soil didn't solidify—it crumbled into useless sand.
The nature energy, I realized, my heart hammering. It's so dense here it's diluting my own mana.
"Fine then. Spirit magic it is."
I channeled my intent. My golden hair flared a brilliant, fiery red. Mana flooded my veins, pulling my muscles taut with artificial strength.
The Kobold caught my scent. It turned, its eyes locking onto mine with a terrifying, advanced intelligence. It lunged—a blur of fur and rusted iron.
Fast. High-rank speed.
I lowered my center of gravity, bringing my blade up. The monster swung a jagged claw at my throat.
Clang!
Using a Water-God redirection technique, I let its momentum work against it. I parried the blow, sending the creature stumbling past me. It crashed into a nearby tree, its own claws sinking deep into the wood. I didn't give it a second to recover.
"Ísvellir!"
A blue magic circle erupted beneath me. Ice roots shot across the ground like frozen lightning, binding the Kobold's limbs. It let out a guttural scream, struggling for a mere second before the frost encased it entirely. With a sharp rap of my blade, the statue shattered into dust, leaving behind a single, glowing magic crystal.
"The mana in this crystal... it's different."
CRACK.
I didn't have time to think. A massive tree root whipped toward my head. I dove to the side, the air whistling where my skull had been a moment ago. A second root followed. I sliced through it, but the tree let out a localized, screeching wail.
"Aurea!"
A green aura enveloped me. I felt weightless, the wind itself lifting my heels. I danced through the air, the barrier of the spell automatically nudging me away from the thrashing roots. I needed to end this before the forest itself woke up.
"Ignis!"
My blade ignited, burning with the intensity of a miniature sun. I sprinted up a rising root, my feet moving at the speed of sound.
A single horizontal flash. The massive tree-monster was severed in two. The spirit fire took hold instantly, turning the corrupted wood into white ash before the flames could spread to the healthy greenery.
I stood there, chest heaving, watching the embers die out. My mother had never mentioned monsters in this sanctuary.
Did someone bring it here? This is troubling.
I signaled for Tanyl to join me. As we walked toward a small stream to catch our breath, a familiar leaf caught my eye. I knelt, grinding the root against a flat stone until it formed a pungent, green paste. I sniffed it, and my eyes widened.
"It's... Wasabi?"
====x====
"Ah... if only I had soy sauce," I whispered to the empty air, "I could die a happy man."
I had rice and other familiar ingredients, but the elusive soybean remained a ghost in this world. "Maybe the Far East has it," I mused, looking toward the horizon, "but they don't take kindly to outsiders."
For a few blissful moments, the deadly trials of this land vanished. I ate like a madman, chasing the ghost of Japan in every bite. I felt a soft nudge against my cheek—Tanyl, rubbing her nose against me to pull me back from my reverie.
"I'm sorry, girl," I said, patting her flank gently. "I got carried away."
We pushed deeper into the wilds. The path was swallowed by nature, overgrown and forgotten. Here, the world felt alive.
"The mana density here is incredible," I noted. My spirit magic felt fluid, almost effortless, yet my own internal mana struggled. Every time I tried to materialize a spell, the ambient energy of the forest attacked it like an immune system spotting an intruder.
I sighed, leaning back against Tanyl. "It's harder than I thought. I'll have to ask Aunt Hymyr about this. She's the best mage in the Leven Kingdom—even Princess Riveria can't match her knowledge of the spirits."
====x====
The world plunged into absolute darkness the exact moment I crossed the border.
Instantly, a suffocating void enveloped me. The ambient mana, the natural energy of the world—gone. The sudden absence felt like a physical weight, leaving only the mana circulating inside my own body, pulsing through my veins like superheated circuits.
Where am I?
BAM!
A crimson spear plummeted from the heavens, piercing the earth with enough force to crater the stone for meters around. As the dust settled, the shadow of the spear began to writhe and stretch. It birthed a humanoid silhouette, draped in a darkness so absolute that the dim light of the eclipse couldn't touch it.
The shadow melted away to reveal a tall, slender woman. She possessed a graceful, athletic build, framed by long, straight, dark purple hair and heavy bangs. Her crimson eyes pierced right through me. She wore metallic silver shoulder guards, armored high-heeled boots, and intricate black straps that crisscrossed over her arms and thighs.
THUD.
With a single, slender hand, she ripped the crimson spear from the dirt. The moment her fingers gripped the shaft, my survival instincts went into overdrive. Every nerve in my body screamed a single word: Death.
"Fate brings you to my realm, Son of the Yggdrasil," she said, a sinister smile playing on her lips. "I can see her power dancing in your veins like wildfire. But... the trial has only just begun."
She tapped the butt of her spear against the ground. Instantly, the shadows pooled, resurrecting the frozen undead in twice their original numbers.
I saw right through her. She's trying to wear me out. This place definitely isn't the mortal realm. The air, the soil... there's no nature energy. Spirit magic is completely useless here.
I leveled the tip of my sword directly at her chest, channeling a massive surge of mana through my internal circuits. "What are the conditions to pass?"
"Kill me," she replied without a shred of hesitation. "Kill me, and you pass."
I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, letting my mind go completely blank. I was no stranger to taking lives.
"Ho? Such thick bloodlust from a child your age?" Her smile widened. She could feel it—the sudden, suffocating aura radiating from me. It wasn't the ambient cold of my ice magic; it was the pure, unadulterated will to slaughter.
Igniting my Touki, I reinforced my muscles, concentrating the explosive energy into my right leg. I exploded forward, a blur of motion. Mid-air, I shifted the reinforcement to my right arm and brought my blade down in a brutal, vertical arc.
Slash!
The blade bit true. I severed her right arm cleanly at the elbow. It flew through the air, spraying dark mist. I landed and spun around, expecting her to collapse, but she merely caught her severed limb with her left hand, her crimson eyes locked onto mine.
"Fufufu... Hahaha!" To my absolute disbelief, she burst into hysterical laughter.
"What's so funny?!" I snapped, tightening my grip on my hilt.
"Fuh... I haven't laughed that hard in centuries. You truly are Oberon," her laughter died down, replacing itself with a warm, terrifying smile. "Even with all that bloodlust, you still hesitated to take a life. You aimed to disarm, not to decapitate. Your technique is impressive, little king, but it is not perfect."
She pressed the severed arm back against her elbow. With a sickening hiss of dark mana, it reattached seamlessly, as if nothing had happened.
She took a single step—and the earth shattered beneath her heel.
CLANG!
She became a streak of purple and silver. I barely got my blade up in time to deflect the tip of her spear as it thrust directly for my heart. The sheer force of the impact vibrated through my bones, threatening to dislodge my weapon. I didn't give her room to recover. I lunged forward, aiming a high-precision slash at her throat.
To my shock, she slammed the shaft of her spear into the ground, using it as a pivot point to spin her entire body mid-air.
SHLICK.
The edge of her blade grazed my cheek. The immediate warmth of trickling blood ran down my jaw. Fine. Let's play.
I surged with Gravity Magic, altering the fields around my body to artificially enhance my speed until the world slowed to a crawl. I unleashed a furious flurry of strikes. Scáthach was forced onto the defensive, her crimson eyes narrowing as she felt the crushing, artificial weight behind every single one of my blows.
I forced a grim smile, stabilizing my breathing as I sank lower into a killing stance. The air grew heavy, suffocating under my intent.
"You tried to kill me," I said, my voice dropping to a cold, jagged edge. "So don't complain if I do the same."
For a moment, the woman stood still, looking almost dumbfounded. She was finally feeling it—the oppressive, veteran bloodlust of a seasoned warrior, coming from the body of a ten-year-old child.
"Such a young age," she whispered, a dark thrill in her voice. "Yet you emit such a foul stench of death?"
"I only reply in kind," I countered, leveling my sword at her throat.
A ravenous, hungry light ignited in her eyes. "Interesting! COME!"
She turned into a whirlwind of violence. Her spear didn't just thrust; it flowed like a river of mercury, weaving seamlessly around my parries. Every time our weapons clashed, a violent shockwave rippled through the paved floor, sending spider-web cracks racing toward the gothic walls.
"Not bad, little king!" she laughed, her voice echoing off the hundred-meter-high ceiling of the cavernous realm.
I didn't answer. I couldn't afford to waste the breath. Pushing my Gravity Magic to its absolute limit, I made my sword feel light as a feather in my hands, but heavy as a falling meteor upon impact. I used a gravity burst to blink directly behind her, my blade singing as it cut the air.
But she sensed the gravitational shift. Without looking, she spun and swung the butt of her spear, catching me square in the ribs.
The impact sent me skidding violently across the stone floor. I rolled to my feet, coughing up a spray of crimson, and slammed my left hand onto the ground.
"Gravity Well: Event Horizon!"
The ground beneath her feet groaned as gravity intensified tenfold. The stone buckled and sank, pinning her legs to the floor. Seizing the millisecond opening, I gathered every ounce of my remaining mana.
"This ends now!" I roared, launching myself forward like a rail gun projectile, the white flame leaving a scorching trail in the dark.
She didn't panic. Instead, she dropped her spear and folded her hands over her chest. The dark purple veil attached to her headpiece flared outward, expanding until it resembled the wings of a fallen angel.
Scáthach brushed her fingers together, materializing an ancient rune.
A sphere of absolute, devouring darkness erupted from her heart. My glowing, white-hot blade pierced the shadow.
For one agonizing second, the world fell completely silent. No sound of metal. No humming magic. Just the sound of two hearts beating in the dead of the dark.
BOOM.
The resulting explosion of light and void was too massive for the realm to contain. The ancient walls groaned, and colossal chunks of the ceiling began to rain down like meteors. The shockwave blasted us in opposite directions.
When the dust finally settled, the oppressive silence returned, heavier than before.
I stood hunched over, using my trembling sword as a crutch to keep from collapsing. My breath came in ragged, burning gasps. My clothes were shredded, and a dozen new cuts joined the gash on my cheek.
Across the ruined cavern, she leaned heavily against a jagged pillar of rock. Her royal purple outfit was scorched and torn, her silver shoulder guards cracked and hanging by a thread. Her crimson spear lay snapped in two between us.
I raised my sword with a shaking hand, forcing my body to find one last ounce of strength. She raised a hand in response, dark energy flickering weakly around her fingertips.
We stared at each other through the dust. The killing intent was still there, burning bright, but our bodies were utterly spent.
"You..." she began, pausing to spit a mouthful of blood onto the gray stone. Slowly, a weak, jagged grin spread across her face. "You really are Oberon."
"I am what I am," I said, drawing my sword close to my head, strengthening my stance. "This time, I will not miss."
While I start to prepared my stance to do another attack Scathatch stood and all her wound regenerate back leave visible scar or blood on her body.
"I want you to be my student!"
"… What?"
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