Seraphina snapped her fingers.

The figures of ash moved in unison, their cloaks billowing slightly as they stepped forward. Each of them carried something in their ashen, spectral hands.

A board was placed down before us.

It was an eight-by-eight grid, similar in size to a chessboard, but immediately, I noticed the differences. There were no alternating colors—no light squares, no dark squares. Instead, the entire board was a uniform, rich dark grey, like cooled volcanic stone.

Then, a second board was placed down.

A third.

A fourth.

A fifth.

I frowned. My gaze flickered up to meet Seraphina's.

"Do you know the national sport of Bast?" the Lady of the Broken Grail, Seraphina asked.

I shook my head.

She smiled, the kind of smile that hinted at fondness—a pride born from something that ran deep in her homeland's bones.

"It's referred to as Ascender's Foot."

Her tone was light, but her words carried weight.

"Our primary goal is to kick, headbutt, hip check, or use any part of our body—except our hands—to strike a leather ball through a hoop."

She raised a single gloved hand, fingers poised as if holding something unseen.

"The ball weighs seventy-one kilograms."

I blinked.

"That's a bit over one hundred fifty-six pounds, for those who use the Technocracy's measurements."

That was—insane.

"Nigh impossible to play," she continued, her voice carrying the certainty of experience, "for anyone below Soul Realm Five, that is, unless they have an arte or shell enhancements to compensate. Some call it Immortal's Royale because of that."

I could already picture it—monstrous athletes, clad in reinforced armor, hurling themselves at each other with brutal, inhuman speed just to knock a hundred-pound ball through a goal.

She watched me carefully, gauging my reaction.

"But for those who lack that capability," she continued, "another sport was invented."

The glint of appreciation in her eyes sharpened as she spoke.

"Ember's Cup."

She gestured toward the five boards in front of us.

"It is a game of customization, crafting, magic manipulation, physical and mental dexterity, and, most importantly, strategy."

I listened in silence.

She extended a hand, fingers drifting over the nearest board.

"Each person floods a Senate" her fingertips barely grazed the surface "with an image of a location of their choosing. This becomes the battleground for the Wars."

Her fingers curled into a fist.

"Naturally," she mused, "if we were engaging in the battle ourselves, that would be pointless. So instead, we use a proxy known as the Chancellor."

As she spoke, she withdrew something from her sleeve.

A circular metal top.

It was unlike any toy or game piece I had ever seen.

The top was intricate, covered in serrations and edges, like a machine designed for both beauty and brutality. Small mechanisms lined its body—gears, vents, etchings—and from one side, I could see what appeared to be a small ignition system, as if it were capable of shooting fire.

It was perfectly balanced atop a needle-thin base, a marvel of engineering and arcane craftsmanship.

Seraphina held it reverently, then smiled.

"This is my Chancellor."

She spun the top lightly on her palm, watching it twirl with almost hypnotic grace.

"The Royal Wedding."

I observed the Chancellor carefully, taking in every detail.

She nodded at me.

"I understand that you do not yet have one," she continued. "And that is part of why I am here."

Then, she said something that made me pause completely.

"My Arte is… niche. Insanely, and debilitatingly, so."

There was a hint of self-aware amusement in her voice, but it was tempered by something far sharper.

"I am required to document it."

She met my gaze, and for the first time, there was no playfulness in her expression—only raw certainty.

"My Arte is Chancellor Manipulation."

I inhaled sharply.

"The ability to control these battle tops as extensions of my own body. More than any other person."

The implications sank in almost instantly.

"Treat me as someone with Machina Manipulation—" she tapped the top lightly, making it spin again in her palm—"but with these, instead."

That was absurd.

That was beyond absurd.

Machina Manipulation was already rare, but a hyper-specialized variant that only worked on battle tops?

Seraphina let the silence linger for a moment.

Then, her lips curled into something that was almost a challenge.

"Your first test?"

I barely had time to react before the figures of ash moved again.

Hundreds of parts were placed in front of me.

Blades, serrated edges, cores, ignitions, balanced bases, enchanted engravings—a storm of pieces, all waiting to be assembled.

Seraphina crossed her arms.

"With limited assistance from me," she said, watching me carefully,

"Assemble your Chancellor."

The parts before me were scattered like artifacts on an archaeologist's table—pieces of something waiting to be whole. I exhaled slowly.

There were hundreds of them.

Gleaming metal frames, etched with arcane runes, waiting to be fused. Serrated discs, some curved like a predator's fangs, others razor-thin and viciously precise. Weighted cores, their mass shifting subtly when I lifted them—some dense and unmoving, others fluid, adaptable. Tiny exhaust vents, small ignition systems that could release flames, ice, or even bursts of compressed force.

Each piece was a fragment of potential.

I reached for a central frame, tracing a finger over the engravings.

"This isn't just metal," I murmured. "It's…" I narrowed my eyes. "Bone?"

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Seraphina, who had been watching in calculated silence, nodded approvingly.

"Astral Bone." She tapped her fingers against her forearm. "Harvested from fallen celestial beasts—tougher than steel, reactive to spiritual energy."

I lifted it, feeling the weight. It was light, yet sturdy, almost resonating with my touch.

I turned to her.

"How much of a Chancellor's strength comes from its materials, and how much from the pilot?"

She tilted her head, considering the question.

"It depends," she admitted. "If you're a brute-force pilot, then it's almost entirely about materials and weight distribution. But if you're skilled…" She let her sentence linger, watching me. "Then the true strength comes from how you synchronize with it."

I nodded slowly, setting the Astral Bone aside for now.

The core was next.

I glanced at the options—several heavy metallic orbs, each humming faintly with embedded enchantments. Some radiated heat, others seemed to absorb sound, one even pulsed with an eerie, heartbeat-like rhythm.

Seraphina observed me quietly as I picked up a spherical core with faint script carved into its surface.

"This one," I said. "It feels… familiar."

She smiled slightly. "That's a Lexicon Core."

I tensed.

"…Lexicon?"

"You should know why it resonates with you, Wordsmith." Her voice carried a knowing edge.

I clenched my jaw. My Arte—Lexicon Manipulation, or Bibliokinesis—has given me the ability to enter books, absorb knowledge, and bend language to my will. It has given me the ability to take from those novels, and enhance everything about myself. The idea of integrating something like that into a Chancellor was intriguing, if not a little dangerous.

"What's its function?" I asked, turning the engraved core in my palm.

"Adaptive Resonance." She leaned forward. "It records kinetic movement, magical interactions, and spiritual pressure. Over time, it becomes a reflection of its pilot—mimicking how you fight, how you move."

I rolled the core in my hand.

A Chancellor that would learn and grow as I did.

I placed it at the heart of the frame and locked it into place. A faint hum whispered through my fingers, like the beginning of a song waiting to be written.

Next, I needed to shape the outer casing—the blades, the edges, the parts that would actually clash and carve through an opponent's Chancellor.

I sorted through the options.

Some were smooth, built for precision-based strikes—thin edges meant to parry and deflect rather than crush. Others were brutal, jagged things with revolving teeth, meant to tear apart anything they touched.

I hesitated.

"What kind of Chancellor do you use?" I asked, glancing at Seraphina.

She tapped a finger against the side of the Royal Wedding, which still spun lazily in her palm.

"I specialize in counterplay and sustained engagements. My Chancellor uses a dual-core system, one for impact absorption, one for precision retaliations. Its frame is built for baiting opponents into overcommitting—before I rip them apart with a spiraling counterattack."

I raised an eyebrow. "So, it's a trap-based fighter?"

She smirked.

"Would you expect anything else from me? I did bring you here after all."

I let that sink in.

I considered my own style of combat. I wasn't the strongest, and while my Lexicon Arte gave me access to esoteric knowledge and abilities, I wasn't a brute-force fighter like some of my siblings.

No.

My strengths lay in adaptation—in weaving through battle like a shifting story, crafting a new ending each time.

I reached for a set of segmented cubic blades—thin, flexible edges that could shift in formation, like pages turning in the wind.

"These," I murmured. "They're paper-thin but layered. Meant to shift and flex."

Seraphina's expression shifted slightly.

"You're designing a morphing Chancellor?"

I shrugged. "You said customization was key, right?"

She exhaled through her nose, a mix of amusement and approval.

"I suppose we'll see if you can actually make it work."

I was down to the last major component—the ignition system.

The options before me were varied.

A fire-based ignition, designed to release bursts of heat to destabilize enemy Chancellors. A magnetic system, built to subtly manipulate the battlefield. A gravity-shifting core, allowing for unpredictable movement mid-battle.

I hovered my hand over the choices.

Then, I turned to Seraphina.

"Does the Lexicon Core have any special synergy with an ignition type?"

She tapped her chin, considering.

"Well," she mused, "since the Lexicon Core learns and records, it would benefit most from something fluid. A system that allows it to constantly rewrite itself in real-time."

Something fluid.

Something adaptive.

I reached out and picked up a smoky, translucent orb. It pulsed faintly in my hand.

Seraphina's eyes flickered with recognition.

"Ah. You're going with Inkfire."

"Inkfire?" I repeated.

"It's a volatile compound," she explained. "It doesn't burn like normal fire. It flows, spreads, engulfs. It can solidify, turn into chains, seep into the battlefield."

I weighed the core in my palm.

"…So if my Chancellor learned from it," I murmured, "it wouldn't just burn. It would shift, expand, reshape itself."

She gave a slow, approving nod.

"Now you're thinking like a Chancellor pilot."

I locked the Inkfire ignition system into place. The Lexicon Core pulsed in response, as if sensing something familiar, something kindred.

I tightened the last few components.

Seraphina leaned forward, examining my work.

The Chancellor I had assembled was sleek—segmented plates like turning pages, a shifting frame that could flex and extend mid-battle. Its core pulsed with knowledge, and its ignition system…

She exhaled softly.

"It's a Scholar's Blade."

"A what?"

She smiled, tapping the side of the Royal Wedding.

"Some Chancellors are built for brute force. Others for resistance and counters." She looked at mine. "But yours?" Her gaze met my own.

"It's built to evolve."

I lifted my Chancellor in my palm.

Its name came to me naturally, like a story waiting to be written.

"Final Manuscript."

Seraphina's smile deepened.

"Now," she said, spinning the Royal Wedding effortlessly in her fingers, "let's see if you can use it."

I turned the Final Manuscript in my hand, feeling the subtle weight of its Lexicon Core hum beneath my fingers. The plates shifted slightly, responding to my touch, but that didn't mean I understood how to actually control it.

"How do I pilot this?" I asked, glancing up at Seraphina.

She smirked. "Figured you'd ask sooner or later."

She spun Royal Wedding in her palm, the Chancellor balancing effortlessly on its thin, needled tip. "Chancellor piloting is a mix of willpower, physical control, and strategic intent. It's not just a machine you wind up and let go. You have to guide it—command it like an extension of yourself."

I frowned, watching how fluidly hers moved. "What exactly is controlling it? Magic? Mental connection?"

She flicked the Royal Wedding into the air, and it hovered for a second before landing perfectly on the board. The moment it touched down, it began to spin again; a slow, steady motion like a predator circling prey.

"Depends on the pilot," she said. "Some use pure physical technique; flicking it, launching it with precise hand movements, adjusting the battlefield as needed. Others use spiritual energy, syncing their soul to the Chancellor and guiding it that way."

I narrowed my eyes. "And you?"

Seraphina tilted her head, smiling slightly. "Instinct."

"Not an answer," I shot back.

She chuckled. "Fine. I use a combination of soul synchronization and kinetic control. My Chancellor responds to micro-adjustments in my intent and movement. How much of that is my arte, I have no idea." She lifted a hand, and as if obeying her unspoken command, Royal Wedding spun faster, its edges flickering with sparks of energy.

I exhaled.

"So it's not just about launching it onto the battlefield. You're constantly engaged—even after it starts spinning."

Seraphina nodded. "Exactly. That's what separates masters from amateurs. Anyone can spin a Chancellor, but controlling it mid-battle? Adjusting its movement, timing your strikes, anticipating your opponent's next move? That's where skill comes in."

I glanced down at Final Manuscript, flexing my fingers.

"If it's about controlling it like an extension of yourself, how do you form that connection? How do you make it move the way you want?"

She leaned back, crossing her arms. "First, tell me this—how do you use your Arte?"

I hesitated.

"…Lexicon Manipulation is about understanding language, bending words, and making stories real. Going into the story, experiencing it, and learning from it."

Seraphina nodded. "Then apply that to piloting. A Chancellor isn't just a tool. It's a narrative in motion. You're the author, the pilot. It moves as you dictate."

I frowned. "That sounds… abstract."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, let me break it down." She gestured to the Royal Wedding, which continued spinning. "Step one: Launch."

She tapped the board with her finger, and Royal Wedding abruptly stopped, balanced perfectly on its point.

"The launch is critical. You need to put enough force, spin, and angle into your release so that your Chancellor doesn't just flop over like an idiot."

I nodded slowly. "So… how do I launch it?"

Seraphina snapped her fingers. A small whip-like device was placed in front of me by an ash-made figure. It was thin but sturdy, lined with small channels where energy could flow through.

"Most pilots use a whipcord launcher—a technique where you pull the cord fast enough to send the Chancellor spinning at high velocity. Others prefer manual launches, using a flick of the wrist, while some crazy bastards just kick it into play."

I picked up the whipcord launcher. "And the second step?"

Seraphina grinned. "Step two: Synchronization."

She reached out, placing a hand lightly on the Royal Wedding. The moment she did, the Chancellor shuddered, then began to move on its own—subtly, smoothly, reacting to her mere presence.

"This is the hard part," she admitted. "It's not about controlling every little movement manually. Instead, you form a bond. The Chancellor moves based on your intent, your instinct."

I frowned. "Like controlling a Machina?"

"Similar," she said. "But more direct. Machina have their own intelligence, their own quirks. A Chancellor is you. It only acts as you do."

I gripped Final Manuscript a little tighter.

"So if I think of it as an extension of myself—"

Seraphina nodded. "Then it will be."

I looked at the board, exhaling.

Step one: Launch. Step two: Synchronization.

"What's the third step?"

She smirked. "Battle."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.