— GREAT EDRYAN, YEAR 7294. SEASON: CENTRAL.

Wilarax stood on the balcony. The air swirled, and the late evening sun prepared one final burst of light before completing its descent over the horizon. A hint of the coming fall chill entered the air as the sun continued to lower and a strong wind blew browning leaves across the ground. The young woman prepared to leap and follow Lawruthian.

The Chosen of Madris was already over the battlefield. An empty field on the castle grounds was covered in packed brown dirt. It was a training ground for the Royal Guards and other palace protectors; now it would become a battlefield between the Chosen of Madris and the Chosen of El. It was located roughly over a kilometer away, and it took a few blinks for the Chosen to cross and arrive at its center. He hovered around a hundred meters off the ground. Wilarax could sense the air mana used to keep him aloft from here. Her mind had already begun to finish its personality profile of the young man; now it was time to add his battle abilities to it.

Lucky — He Never Misses, appeared next to Wilarax. He frowned and placed a hand on her shoulder before she could go. Wilarax turned, confused by Lucky halting her building momentum.

" Princess ," Lucky began, his tone warning.

Wilarax immediately focused. Lucky, never called her princess in this manner. For him to do so now meant whatever he noticed was of extreme importance. She turned fully to face him. Lucky waved his hands, and the air shimmered around them for a split second before returning to normal.

"This…," he hesitated, seemingly looking for the appropriate way to convey his message. Eventually, he sighed and just spoke candidly. "Do not, under any circumstances, show more than 50% of what you can do. Promise me that if you have to exceed that limit, you will immediately call it off; if not, I will."

Lucky appeared vibrant, as if telling jokes or making a quip, but his words were anything but.

Wilarax frowned, about to retort, but the look in Lucky's eyes made her pause and reconsider. Lucky wouldn't have told her this if it weren't important, and his actions were a level of deception that Wilarax hadn't truly seen in the man. Her frown slightly lessened as she questioned him. "Why?"

She made sure to completely remove her frown and laugh, acting alongside his play.

"You must remain wary of those who appreciate God El's might," Lucky said, his eyes flickering to the members of the round table who now approached the balcony. "A hidden blade of a perceived friend stabs more deeply than that of an open enemy. An unprecedented age is coming, with unknown variables and no one present to protect you once it comes; this has given you a slight sense of… freeness. You've grown used to the people's reverence, but not all hold true in that belief, and the hearts of men are ever changing. Do not allow a hidden blade to know all your secrets. The more that is unknown, the more you become unfathomable."

His words stated, Lucky took a step back and gave Wilarax a soft smile. His voice changed as the air shimmered once again. It took on a more playful, joking tone that fit the expressions and gestures he was making. "Don't end the battle too soon. We're still in the middle of Edrya."

He said so, but his voice was loud enough to be heard by the approaching members of the table, loud enough to be heard by the entire hall filled with magi and their personnel. Lucky carried a carefreeness that was difficult to fake, and this showed his strength and lack of true worry.

Wilarax laughed. She turned and took a step into the air while waving a hand goodbye. Her right foot seemed to find purchase in the air, and as those behind watched her rise and watched her left foot descend, the young True Elf disappeared. In the same moment, her face morphed, and a stern and serious expression appeared.

Edryan… the Edryan Queendom had similarities to Earth. Wilarax… Celina didn't understand the exact possibilities of things. She didn't know if in every world a bus would be rectangular-shaped. She didn't know if Edryan cream pies just happened to replace the Boston in the name. Wilarax didn't know if the public parks, free libraries, or any of the strange Earth-like similarities she saw could occur in any civilized nation.

What Wilarax knew was that some of these things happening should be possible, but all of them continuously happening in less than a decade, for knowledge that took centuries to build, couldn't just appear out of thin air. If the capital city of Edryan were on Earth, it'd be a standard model for a rising modern city. Public works, endless jobs, and opportunities all seemed to exist. And, when speaking with the people, all of it pointed to the Chosen of Madris. Once was a coincidence… but twice?

That was a pattern.

Wilarax could recognize patterns. She needed, no… Wilarax Joi Simra Indrius would be getting answers today.

Wilarax appeared directly in front of Lawruthian, her hand tightly clasping his throat, cutting off air and speech.

"You're quite slow," she said, dragging him upward and higher into the sky. "How about a wager? First to touch dirt loses. Should I win, you will answer one question of mine truthfully, no matter the contents, should I lose…," Wilarax scoffed, her intention to win obvious.

Right as Lawruthian reacted, his hand reaching to grab hers, Wilarax teleported, bringing him with, then as they appeared high above the city, his hand closing in, Wilarax let go and disappeared. Only seconds passed since she took her second step. Not once had she uttered a spell to control mana; it nearly appeared as if her actions and the world were one.

Lawruthian eyes were wide. The hand that was attempting to remove her grip slowly moved toward his throat. He looked down; the capital, his home, was nearly ten kilometers below him. Wilarax could almost see the flow of his thoughts as he regained his temperament and calm, indifferent eyes focused on her. And, Wilarax returned the gaze. Two pairs of indifferent eyes gazing at one another.

"A wager… huh," Lawruthian said, contemplating her words.

The only reason Wilarax hadn't attacked was to wait for his answer. The events of the Treaty hadn't gone her way, not that she expected it to do so, but the lack of support from anyone on her side caused Wilarax to truly keep Lucky's words in mind. Not even Zeor spoke up on her behalf, yet she had stuck to Wilarax like glue once revealed. She was irritated. That was an understatement. She was pissed .

Are they idiots? Can't they see the danger they're in? What's the point in fighting over petty benefits if you allow a monster to grow in your backyard?

"This is all one big game of chess," Wilarax barked. "It's likely the Gods have wagers, so… why can't we?"

A fight to claim the Mortal Realm brewed. A third and final battle to put a finality to the trinity. Wilarax was the destined person to halt and end this game. She used to think things like fate, destiny, and all the teachings of her father and elders were distant fairytales. She believed them to be things in her far future. She didn't expect a decisive, world-ending conflict that would erupt before she even reached thirty in this life.

It was like the worlds' she lived in cursed her to have her twenties ruined. The first time… a beautiful blooming loved snatched from her hands, a memory of blood left in its wake. Wilarax tightly clenched her fist at the thought. The second was a world at war. She let out an internal snort. Really can't win in my twenties.

" A Game of Chess ," Lawruthian repeated, rubbing his throat. His circular irises changed, becoming vertical. "Sure, I'll take your wa-"

Wilarax struck out, mana gathered from her core, spiraling its way upward and out of her palm. Her body moved as the attack manifested; she simply stepped, and it was like the space between the two shrank.

Wilarax watched his eyes narrow and his body instinctively react as she emerged from the air. She pushed her palm forward to strike, but Lawruthian was already moving backward, propelling himself with the wind. A green glow flashed over his body, doubling his speed as he flew backward.

Chantless casting for both space and the wind affinity—rare, but not an uncommon duo. No sign of that immense physical strength he displayed yet, perhaps it's a skill. His reaction time has improved, not enough to be on my level, but enough for instinctual reaction, then… just become faster than instinct.

Simple analytical thoughts ran through Wilarax's head as she adjusted her palm strike, matching Lawruthian's air affinity as a palm-shaped blast of air chased the retreating figure. The sky crackled from the sound of her palm strike, but Wilarax didn't wait to see if it landed. Instead, she analyzed more while simultaneously chanting.

First, let's assess his magic aptitude. I rarely fight humanoids, but Lucky and the rest never allow me to feel unfamiliar with this kind of combat.

"Air is a Gift of the World," Wilarax proclaimed, turning her palm into a pointing index finger at the retreating figure. " Wind of the World, heed my commands ."

Her voice was loud, falling into Lawruthian ears through the clap of Wilarax's previous attack. He'd finally dodged backward enough for the magic to dissipate, leaving him a few kilometers away. Each word seemed like a shackled place itself on his body, slowing his movement. The air seemed resistant to his call, stubborn like a donkey pulling against its owner's lead.

"Magic's Beloved," he muttered aloud, before preparing his next move.

Magic's Beloved, the bloodline that all members of the True Elf community hold. Unlike Magic's Embrace, the bloodline of all magi, which at its pinnacle, gave them a 35% return on expended mana, Magic's Beloved returned a far greater quantity, but this… this was something else entirely.

Wilarax internally sneered, hearing his mutter, before finishing her spell. If he relied on wind, she would take that reliance. Her pointing finger seemed to lock onto Lawruthian, no matter the distance between them. She hesitated for a moment before ultimately saying one word.

" Defeat ."

If I were to use a Kill command or another… and actually did it, I'm afraid the game wouldn't end, and my actions would bring forth the Goddess's victory.

The wind answered her command; immediately, blades formed in the air, seemingly of their own accord, without her providing the mana for it. The blades formed themselves into rows like marching troops, then, row by row, they fired.

"This…," Lawruthian laughed at the absurdity of the descending troops of air, "is why they call them True? Their ability to command magic?"

"(Sovereign's Stride)," Lawruthian activated, 300 Life Points drained altogether, 200 Mana, and 100 Stamina to give him a new speed boost not relying on an element.

His body once again gained momentum, and he dodged the attacking wind blades, using minimal movement as he could while keeping his direction facing the pointing Wilarax.

Wilarax slowly lowered her hand, watching the performance of the Chosen of Madris. He hadn't attacked once, not that Wilarax had allowed him to do so. She expected some retaliation or counterattack, but the Chosen seemed fine with this being one-sided.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Is he analyzing me? HE THINKS THIS IS A GAME? Then the pressure is not enough.

" SPACE IS A GIFT OF THE WORLD ," Wilarax's voice thundered over Edrya, and the sparks of magic began to draw attention as they moved, the training grounds long forgotten. Her finger was raised once again, its target the Chosen of Madris. "SPACE OF THE WORLD, HEED MY COMMANDS… RESTRICT ."

Space locked around Lawruthian, tightly preventing him from moving. His body seemed to freeze mid-air. Then, his skill, unable to allow movement, failed, and his body began to drop while a new volley of wind blades began their descent. Even at this distance, his vertical pupils remained on Wilarax to the end.

Above Edrya, City of Heroes, a falling star descended. Its light was pure white in the fading sunlight and attracted attention from all. And, over the city… a single voice broke the growing silence as heads turned to stare up.

" Break ."

And the magic restricting his body broke.

" Cease ."

And the blades of wind halted in place, then, like dandelions in the wind, they dispersed into the air.

Wilarax's eyes widen, and her startled voice emerged, "True Intent? He possesses True Intent? But the magi's inheritance was cut off. The Hall of Attributes was destroyed."

Wilarax immediately focused, recovered from her slight startle at the display. Her commands to the world were an application of True Intent. In essence, the unlocked version of the attribute imbued her Intent points into her commands. Should one underneath her have less Intent, Wilarax could control them using these commands. Her control over the world was using this in conjunction with her bloodline ability—commanding the world to directly attack Lawruthian. Of course, her power with this ability was low, and she'd only just completed the last of her training to master the skill. She already possessed the True versions of all the other attributes.

The only way to break a True Intent command was with another True Intent command or extreme will, and one must possess similar levels of Intent to do so.

Good, if he has True Intent, then Power, Vitality, Endurance, Mind, and Self may be in a True state as well. Now… this battle will get interesting. I wonder if he's figured out the proper combinations and techniques. Or… has he been able to become a True Person? I have to reveal his depths today!

Wilarax continued to build her profile on Lawruthian. She clapped her hands together and closed her eyes as if in prayer. Her voice was soft, gentle, like she was before her Lord.

"Mana is the Source. It is the True —heed my commands," she opened her eyes, pointing once again at Lawruthian from her vantage point.

When her gaze landed on Lawruthian, the world seemed to pause. Sound stopped in the city below, eyes lost focus, and breaths slowed. The mana in the air, constantly in an active state of movement, stopped, as if it held its breath, awaiting Wilarax's command.

A command that never came verbally.

Inches away from her, a clawed hand seemed to move slowly. It was like a thick layer of molasses stood between it and her. Wilarax studied the transformed Chosen of Madris, a hint of astonishment in her eyes from his transformed state and the subsequent boost in speed.

He's matched my speed! Sins? No, it can't be; this is when his strength dramatically changed fighting the Machan. He introduced himself as the Final Dragon and End of Adventure… I thought it was just fluff, and perhaps he had a transformation or two, but this… now that I have a closer look…

Wilarax's actions were just as slow. It wasn't that time slowed, but the mana in the area slowed, as a core, fundamental part of life; its state affected everything around them, including Wilarax herself.

Unfortunately, this skill required immense concentration and Intent to control the world's state. And, unlike the previous moves, it began to drain her Mana and Stamina Points.

With difficulty, Wilarax moved her right hand outward and faced it toward Lawruthian, fingers and palm flat. This move wouldn't kill him, but… it would hurt. She began to chant a spell, and the Life Points within her churned. It moved slowly through her body and felt like veins of hot lava traveled their way up and out of her heart and through her arm.

Right as her arm got into position, the previous command took its leave, restoring the normal state of the world around them.

Lawruthian, as if sensing the extreme danger from the outward-facing palm, flapped his wings and used all his momentum to pull away. Wilarax lowered her arm, a sigh of relief given as the mana in her body returned to its normal state.

That move required the other party to initiate contact with her. Should he have done so, then the force directed at him would have hit like a speeding truck. Its drawback was that Wilarax received a portion of the incoming attack.

Wilarax felt the Life Points in her body churning, raging and ready to be released. This was only unarmed combat, and she recognized that both she and her counterpart Chosen didn't have many enhancements. There were no weapons in hand, increasing their Base Attack, nor were there defenses to do the same to their Base Defense. Nothing but the might of their physical bodies as levelers provided them with strength. Yet, to those who now watched from below, this was anything but normal.

"They fight like a level 180 to 200 Rare," Ai'esha grumbled to Ninjaro. "But they're not even past three decades to possess this strength."

Ninjaro frowned, stroking his beard. "They are Chosen of a God, it's expected their strength to be doubled from the norm—more importantly, how long do you think you could last?"

"Against who, the Chosen?"

Ninjaro turned and gave her a blank stare. Ai'esha laughed, a loud gaffe that brought attention toward the pair. Ninjaro closed his eyes for a moment before refocusing on the battle above. He let out a breath and began his calculations. Although they were far in the sky, the young saphen didn't need to see the exact specifics to know what was going on.

Throughout the battle, Ninjaro was suspecting he'd almost overestimated the Chosen of Madris's strength, but now that he faced an opponent on the same level, if not higher, the gradual depths of his abilities were being displayed.

Wilarax's Mage Barrier flickered; the attack of the Chosen of Madris forced her back. Her eyes lit up, and she saw several opportunities to counterattack but chose to hold back. She would end this and get her answer, but not yet. She demonstrated enough abilities to get him riled up from the suppression; hopefully, he would begin to display something tangible now that he had the opportunity. If the parties who signed the Treaty of Edrya didn't believe in the danger before them, then Wilarax would force open their eyes to acknowledge reality.

Lawruthian punched out again, his fist connecting with the bright blue barrier of the Chosen of El. Wilarax let out a mocking laugh, "Is that it? We'll be here until nightfall if that's the limit of your strength."

She was certain now, certain that she was stronger than him. Although she seemed angry, it wasn't a hot, ill-mannered, and ill-tempered anger that made you do rash actions and say rash things. It was cold, a furious burning chill so cold it would burn when touched.

At least twenty-five to thirty levels on him in his base state. That means his transformations boost his attributes by half. I heard rumors of him disappearing for several years and suspected him to be dungeon diving like me to rapidly increase his strength, instead it seems that wasn't the case.

While verbally taunting, Wilarax continued her analysis of the man. She studied his new form. He was still humanoid, mostly , but like his scaly wings, several transformations took place over his body. Instead of nails, his fingers ended in long claws that looked like they could cut through steel. His teeth were sharp, and when he snarled, sharp shark-like incisors showed.

"I've never heard of the magi having such transformative abilities. Did you gain something from End of Adventure? Your people spread rumors of you slaying him, but from what I've read," Wilarax probed, not expecting a proper answer. She studied him, gazing up and down while retreating from his swings. "That seems impossible, you don't have the strength."

The Chosen of Madris suddenly pulled back from his attempt to shatter her Mage Barrier. She'd replenish the mana and defense before he could do enough damage to shatter it. Lawruthian stood there, a tail swung out from behind him. His clothes were ripped in places, and he tore off the remaining rags to reveal his full form while speaking.

"Do you always talk this much when you fight? None of us is using weapons or showing much of anything. Did you want to fight or just play petty tricks?"

Wilarax stared at him. Black scales, even his feet, were covered with sharp, arched claws like a raptor's. In the very depths of his scales or if the light flickered just right, one would see a rainbow of iridescent colors.

"It's meaningless if we're both trying to analyze one another while keeping secrets," Lawruthian cooly responded. He shrugged his shoulders. "Shall we take it up a notch or not?"

Wilarax remained quiet for a moment, thinking. The Chosen of Madris was right. Both fighters showed a mix of true and false while combating. The Chosen of Madris only revealed his mastery of two elements, yet she suspected he controlled more. And, as not to show all her cards as she promised to Lucky, Wilarax only showed what her opponent showed, basically matching him. Outside of displaying her mastery over True Intent, Wilarax hadn't actually displayed much, nor did she even break into her true mana levels.

She hesitated, and a strange silence grew between the two. Wilarax hadn't used even ten percent of what she could do. She was a Speliord, a master of the blade and of magic.

"If not, we can settle this over a game of chess," Lawruthian mentioned offhandedly, breaking into a smile.

Wilarax laughed; she couldn't help herself in the moment. She didn't know if the Chosen of Madris intentionally made the joke, but it was a double entendre, congruent with their situation in reality. It reminded her of a certain someone. Wilarax laugher faded as the memory of those kind brown eyes appeared in her heart. Time heals all wounds and fades all memories, and responsibility ensures its weight keeps one busy.

A blade appeared in her hand, its sole edge sharp while Kair'unian script littered its midst. She beckoned toward Lawruthian with her free hand, waiting for him to draw his blade. Then, she echoed the words that started this bout between them.

" Let's fight ."

She watched as he put a hand to the back of his neck and slowly cracked it. He let out a relieved sigh, then extended his right hand. A jeweled bracelet decorated the wrist, a detail Wilarax hadn't paid much attention to. The Chosen did wear jewelry, but it nearly seemed subtle, built not to stand out against him. The only reason Wilarax noticed now was the obvious attention he drew to it.

A long double-bladed sword that shone with the light of stars appeared in his grasp. The moment it did, their blades connected. Wilarax grunted as she was forced back. Her opponent seemed to become a different person as the weapon appeared in his hand. He kicked out, but his kick only met her Mage Barrier. Wilarax retreated, holding her blade so that the flat side reflected her.

"Burn for me, Quincy."

An apt name for the fifth blade she ever wielded. The blade seemed to respond to the call, and flames licked its surface, then in the same moment, Wilarax thrust out toward the approaching Chosen.

A flaming line crossed the sky, imbued with her Power. Lawruthian twisted his body, but the line seemed not to care about his change in direction and continued its path forward. A sound like that of shattered glass rang in the air, and Lawruthian looked down in mild interest as his Mage Barrier disintegrated, but his body remained unharmed.

Wilarax's silver-gold eyes met his. A smile danced within them between the flickering flames of her blade. This is where the true battle would begin. If there was anything Wilarax grew to appreciate over her adventure across the Elrunian Continent…

Her opponent looked at the fading flame of the string and the distance between them. Only a dozen or so meters of empty air was between the pair. This distance could be crossed before a blink was half finished, but for both of them, it was enough to take a life. Wilarax could thrust her blade faster than a blink could finish.

The Chosen of Madris seemed to be hesitating, but Wilarax decided not to let him even have that moment.

You're going to reveal your skills today, no matter what, I have to see what type of class you wield.

Right before reaching the Edryan lands, Wilarax successfully rose to level 150. In doing so, she finally unlocked her third class slot. Unlike the previous two classes, which required accumulation for her skills to rise to a compelling level, her third class was already at that point.

"(Grand Mage — All of Magic is Mine)," Wilarax activated.

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