Teaching Record of the Living Grimoire

z Suicide Eznutt z · 2025-10-12T15:31:07+0100

Yo yo yo!

So, I read this novel called "New Life As A Max Level Archmage" by ArcaneCadence recently, and it has filled my head with thoughts.

Truth be told, the whole 'isekai into video game character in the future of the game world' trope (is there a shorthand for that?) might just be my single most favourite trope. I love the genre, but there are like 3 that are even halfway decent.

So here is my attempt at it. I decide to just post all the chaps I've written so far at once, and you'll probably see a good few similarities with Arcane's work, but from that won't last past this beginning bit.

Hope you enjoy! (〜￣▽￣)〜*

Chapter 1: Not in Kansas Anymore

She awakes to a familiar view.

A large room, almost to the size of a football stadium. The walls are made of crystal and in various shades of black. Not by design, but as a result of being singed by fire and coated in soot since time immemorial.

Giant, towering pillars hold the ceiling up so high that a normal person wouldn't even be able to touch it with a thrown rock. There are no lights, no chandeliers, yet the room is not dark. Bright veins of angry red light crawl down the walls like a nervous system while waterfalls of lava constantly stream down from each pillar by their cardinal directions.

She's struck by an odd sense of... Not déjà vu, but the sense that what she is looking at is wrong. Like the Mandela Effect. She thinks. She isn't entirely certain that she knows what the Mandela Effect is though.

Whatever you want to call it, when she looks down at the expansive floor beneath her, she can't help but feel that something about the sight is just ever so slightly off.

The floor in question is a long path that looks as if it is made of ash. It is lined by two rivers of flowing magma and then again by the previously mentioned towering pillars and their waterfalls of yet more lava.

It is unmistakably the throne room and Boss Arena of The Burning Apostle, Vielduine—the Ninth Cataclysm and final Boss of the hit game Free World Online.

Actually, what the heck is happening right now?

The thought strikes her like lighting, snapping out of a sleep-like daze and making her realise that she is awake right now and existing in a moment.

She just has no idea how she got here and certainly doesn't remember going to sleep.

With confusion in her heart, she tries to recall what she was doing last.

The most recent memory she can recall is of playing Free World Online, which in itself does not really tell her much since she's a no life loser who literally spends roughly seventeen hours a day playing it. She has the stats to prove it, very recently surpassing the 50,000 hour mark of playtime.

The only person with more playtime than her is one of her friends, and even then, he's only ahead by six hours because his brother was visiting one day and pressured him into doing cocaine.

She might be happy no-lifeing this game, but she isn't going to go so far as to do drugs just for the cocaine induced 40 hour play session.

Besides, she's already number one. She doesn't need to take stimulants, because she's already the best.

Regardless, she pushes the thought aside to focus on the present.

The last thing she remembers is fighting Vielduine. She was trying for the first solo clear of Vielduine on Divine difficulty.

On paper, one could look at the challenge and say it's impossible. The final Boss on the hardest difficulty outclassed her so badly it isn't even funny, and she's the number one player in the game. Imagine what it's like for everyone else?

Even the Tank of her Party could probably only survive three or four hits from him. She could survive one hit by virtue of a life-saving Passive Skill, but it'd still be doing her entire health bar.

However. Free World Online is a game where skill actually matters. Like, significantly. Especially at the higher levels.

PvP at her level is insanely competitive. With the level of technology these days, being a top player isn't just about having slightly better reactions with a mouse or whatever ancient crap they used to use.

No. The modern VR gear connects directly to the nervous system. For most games, that doesn't necessarily mean much. You still have cooldowns and cast delays and stuff after all. But in the higher levels of Free World Online, the longest cast times would be one single second. Maybe.

Most Spells and Skills at her level are either instant cast or some decimal. The result is that high level fights happen quite literally at the speed of thought. Then you go even further and reach her level of play where you have to start thinking in parallel.

One part of your mind fighting at the speed of thought while the other part is doing the same but at a delay. This way, instead of only being able to cast the Spells you're fighting with one at a time, you can also set thirty Spells to go off at the same time over the course of a few seconds.

To cut a ranting explanation incredibly short, Free World Online is a game where skill takes precedent. What this means is that anybody at any level can theoretically beat anyone. Even an insanely powerful Boss that one-shots you and has a gazillion health and armour and six phases and constant regeneration and an AoE aura of constant DoT.

...Okay maybe not anyone. There isn't much a level 12 can do against the aura damage or the regen. Levels and Skills and Equipment do play a big role. Skill can just be used to bridge gaps between a few hundred levels, nothing too exaggerated.

It is because of this though, that it was theoretically possible to solo a Mythic Vielduine. Which is exactly what she was just doing.

In fact, she even won, which is amazing~!

Wait a minute.

She's just realised why the sight before her seems so off.

The perspective is wrong. She's looking at the throne room backwards. As if she was...

Her eyes turn down, and somehow it is only then that she realises that she is sitting on the Ember Throne.

With that realisation, clarity of thought floods her as if a fog over her mind had been cleared and she lifts a pale, crystal-smooth hand in front of her eyes and begins studying it intently.

She feels real.

Her sight is so detailed, like her pixel count has quadrupled and then quadrupled again, even though in-game visuals have long since reached the level of human eyes.

The air tingles against her skin, warm and fresh. A deep breath fills her nose with the scent of charcoal and molten rock.

Her hand falls back down to the arm of the Throne, and she feels the material. Crystal-like in texture but covered in ash that does not stick to her skin or move from her touch. It simply remains, feeling comfortable like moss.

"Hah?"

"Hah?" Her expression of confusion is repeated, higher in pitch, when she hears the sound leave her lips.

"What?" She repeats her confusion, only now connecting the voice she heard with the words she spoke. "Lalalala."

She pauses, brows furrowing in thought. "Why does my voice sound like this?"

The voice coming from her mouth sounds nothing like what it should. It's soft, almost delicate. Pleasing to the ear. But every word sounds oh so bored.

She doesn't mislike it.

If anything, she finds it rather fitting.

"This voice feels more true to me than my last," she muses to herself.

After all, one doesn't sink 50,000 hours into a video game if they're a normal, functioning member of society.

She was always bored by life. That only changed when she signed up for the closed alpha of the—then named, 'World Exploration Online'.

She was already someone who spent all her free time inside of full-dive games. Just one among many who had become disillusioned by the real world. The only time she spent in reality was during school and then her first job.

But World Exploration Online captivated her. According to the developers, they didn't want to make a game in the typical sense of the word, but a world. The game didn't treat players any different from NPCs in any way except for the ability to respawn.

You were simply given a world and left to do what you can, or what you want, if you can. That alone isn't necessarily an original idea. There are plenty of sandbox games out there. Some people even still play Minecraft, and that's like, she doesn't even know how old.

What made World Exploration Online different, was the Magic. Well, Skills in general, but she only ever cared about the Magic. It was so intricate. So free. If you understood the theory well enough, you could make your own spells or modify existing ones. The Players were capable of rewriting the very code of the game with their own actions. Even being added to the in-game Lore wasn't impossible. It was actually pretty easy for small things, little mentions or official documents.

As the oldest Player in the game—by playtime not real life age obviously—she was naturally in the Lore too. Probably more than anyone else. She didn't originally even care too much about the Lore too much. She obviously still read through every bit of Lore she could find, but her true interest was only ever with exploring the Magic. She only even read the Lore to look for more hints or inspiration for Magic.

She can admit that she might have a bias view of it all though. She kinda went a little bit obsessive. Okay maybe a lot obsessive.

She followed the game from the closed alpha to the open one, then the closed and open beta and then pre-ordered the initial release. When the game came out in full, now calling itself Free World Online, she soon quit her job so she could dedicate every waking hour to it.

Eventually, when she started rising through various leaderboards, she took cue from her friends and started making videos to post online. That eventually became her source of income.

She was incredibly proud of her accomplishment of becoming one of those content creators that can inconsistently post only one video every couple of months while still raking in more profit than most daily uploaders.

Plus, with all the extra income, she could buy stuff from the in game shop too. That was where about 90% of her money went honestly. Her apartment was really cheap. It was mostly cosmetics and situationally useful items though. The game wasn't very pay-to-win.

A soft sigh leaves what should be her avatar. Her player character.

One of her hands rises into the air once more, and she spends another moment studying her palm in silence.

"Seems real," she mutters.

Pushing herself to her feet, she rises from the obsidian Throne without a word and sedately strolls around to its tall back.

Covered in ash though it may be, the tall back of the Throne is still reflective enough from the obsidian material below. Enough to reflect her sight clearly enough.

What she sees is a small child. Maybe 13 or so, though without the baby fat.

Standing at an intimidating 4'6, her avatar stares back at her exactly as she remembers it. Red eyes that almost glow the colour of fresh blood sit surrounded by ink black markings. Thick lines that draw out from the top of her eye curved to the corner and again from the corner inward under the eyes.

Her hair is a dull grey, falling only down to her upper back. Two long bangs of hair frame her face, dipping down to her collar where they are held together by a pair of golden bands.

She is wearing her Lord of Blood robes. One of the best equips in the game. Not as good as her main set of course, but only barely. These robes however, provide the highest cooldown and cast delay reductions in the game. Something she desperately needed in order to avoid getting one-shot, even if the rest of the stats aren't as good as her main set.

It is an incredibly beautiful piece of black cloth embroidered in gold at the bottom. It also comes with a cape, similarly black with gold embroidery along its edges. The cape comes with a collar of fluffy dark fur and is held together by a large golden clasp with two long strips of red cloth hanging down from her shoulders to her hips.

Lastly, on her head is a truly oversized witch's hat, pointy top and all, that is in fact so large that it droops under its own weight, forcing her to lift it slightly to be able to look herself in the eye.

Though she cannot see them right now, she also knows that under the hat there is a pair of large dark horns growing from the back of her head and curling all the way around to the front, where they end in a point to the sky. Each horn is as oversized as her hat, being about the size of her head.

If not for her horns—she knows—her hat would have fallen enough to consume her head entirely.

"It seems," she speaks, watching the mouth of her avatar move in turn, "That I really have been isekai'd."

This all feels far too real to still be the game. She doesn't need to pinch herself to be able to tell that there is blood currently flowing through her veins.

"Well," she rubs her chin thoughtfully. "I suppose I should check regardless. [Menu]. Nothing huh? [GM Call]. [Report]. Hm. One last test and I will definitely know for sure if this is still a game or not. Ahem. To whoever is listening! If you don't come out right now then I will sue you!"

...Nothing happens.

That confirms it then. Companies hate being sued these days, and while she might not be super rich, she is the number one Player. She could very easily make a very public lawsuit against them, and since the majority of her following are Free World Online Players, that'd be pretty problematic for them.

Now that she is fairly confident that this is real, she only has one thing left to do.

She has to decide how she feels about this.

"It's not like I was some friendless, family-less, penniless orphan or something. Sure, I barely spoke to my family, but barely isn't never. If I'm here, and assuming that I am the only one, then I won't be able to speak with any of my friends again. That'd suck. I like them. So should I be upset?"

She lets her words hang in the air for a moment. Studying her own face as she thinks.

"The lack of consent in the matter is a little bit upsetting," she soon decides. "But at the same time.. If someone deposited a cool million into my bank account without giving me a choice about it, would I really be upset? Free World Online was basically already my life. This all turning real is quite literally a dream come true. A dream I've had many times."

That's part of why she is confident that this isn't a dream. Because she knows what that would feel like.

"So just consider it a sacrifice then? If I was asked if I would give up everything in my life for the chance of truly living in the world of Free World Online.. I probably would have taken it. Hm. Doesn't that make this even better? Since it wasn't my choice, I don't have to feel guilty about choosing a video game over my actual family and friends. Neat."

Dilemma thus resolved, she walks back around the Throne and retakes her seat, reclining comfortably with her cheek rested on one fist.

"It's a little bit upsetting to be, or at least look like a child though." With her words, she looks down at herself while bringing her hands up to feel her budding chest. "I hope I won't have to go through all the crap of puberty again."

Her thought process for character creation has always been rather simple.

Girls are better to look at than boys, so she chooses female. Demons are cool because they have horns, so she chose the Demon Race. Lastly, the idea of the uber-powerful, super scary and ancient Mage being a small child is hilarious, so she made her avatar look around 13.

She's starting to regret that last part a little bit now, but whatever, she'll grow.... Maybe.

God she hopes she will grow. Considering her Race, it's entirely possible that she won't.

Dang.

Speaking of, she should probably check her Stats. It would suck if she had to start over at Level 1. Free World Online utilises a Mastery system after all. So while it wouldn't be too hard to grind her level back to proper standards, her Mastery levels were completely different. They are the result of literally tens of thousands of hours of grinding.

The system was really simple. If you did something, anything from casting a specific Spell to Magic in general or planting a flower or throwing a rock. Every action gave Mastery, and there was no limit to how high a Mastery level could get.

Most Mages generally only had around six Spells that they even has a single Mastery level in. It did not level quickly.

She however, had exactly 1,014 Spells with at least one level of Mastery. Her most used Spell was Mastery level 19, giving it the fourth highest Mastery level out of everything in the game.

If she recalls, none of the three above her stood at her level as a Player. Two were lifestyle Players that had spent an inordinate amount of time on their specific skills. The last was this rather famous weirdo that started playing in the open beta. He was one of the opening batch of Players that had been playing the game since it was released in full, and in all of those 9 years, he only ever used two Skills. [Quickstep] and [Cut].

Shaking her head, she clears her mind of pointless thoughts about online weirdos. Never mind the fact that she was one of those weirdos.

"Right. Let's see if I need to cry or not. [Status]."

She is gratified to see the screen actually pop up. Part of her was afraid it would be like the [Menu] and not show itself.

[Status; ]

[Name: Kierra Kalashnikova ]

[Title: Usurper of the Burning Throne ]

[Level: 2097 ]

[Race: Demonic Archlich ]

[Class: The Mage ]

[STR: 216,434]

[AGI: 130,873]

[CON: 3,188,232]

[INT: 49,923,239]

[WIS: 17,693,326]

[CHA: 862,112]

"...Hm. The numbers have gone up a bit. And what do you mean 'Usurper of the Burning Throne'? Just because I killed the guy? Give me back my Living Grimoire Title!"

Despite her outcry, her new body doesn't express her feelings at all. Her face remains its impassive, bored gaze and her tone remains entirely calm. Bored and maybe slightly mocking.

But seriously though! It took her ages to get the Living Grimoire Title! Literally six years of her life! Give it back!

Ignoring the other changes for the moment, she focuses on the Title section and expands it.

Titles don't really have any effect on anything, they're pure flavour, so you can change them whenever you want.

[Title: Usurper of the Burning Throne]

[—You have proven yourself by slaying the Burning Apostle in fair combat, thus usurping from him the Burning Throne. The Fire that Burns all of Creation bows before you.]

Meh. It's pretty cool, she won't deny that. But it only took like... 120 hours and a few thousand attempts or something to win that fight. Compared to the some 30,000 hours she put into the other one, this just doesn't match up, so she doesn't hesitate to expand the list.

[Titles ↓ ]

[Living Grimoire] [Ruler of Magic] [Archmage+] [Queen of Ruin] [Architect of the Future] [Living Death] [Mother of Monstrosity] [World Saviour] [Master of Time and Space] [Master of Undeath] [Witch of Catastrophe] [Ancient One] [The First Mage] [Origin of Magic] [Student of The Lich] [Queen of Malakiga] [Immortal Witch] [Purveyor of Eternity] [Hero++] [Dragon Slayer] [Godkiller] [Rule Breaker] [Second Cataclysm] ...

Yup. She still has as many Titles as she remembers.

She takes a moment to glare at the [Godkiller] Title before moving on and mentally tapping on the only one she truly cares about.

[Title: Living Grimoire]

[—By learning every Spell known to Humanity, you have truly become a Living Grimoire.

The flavour text makes it seem a bit grander than it is. The world of Free World Online was incredibly expansive. It has continents the size of Earth. There are bound to be a bunch of homemade Spells out in the boonies of random villages that she doesn't know.

Still, she got the Title after learning 10,000 individual Spells, so it's not like it isn't impressive. She was the only one in the game to have even done so, something one of her friends in the developer team confirmed to her.

Equipping the Title without any more thought, she moves on to consider the rest of the changes she noticed.

"[Status]."

[Name: Kierra Kalashnikova]

It would be weird if that wasn't the same. Kierra is a nice name, hence why she chose it, so she's obviously fine with living with it. She doesn't care too much either way really. She's just glad that she didn't name her character something dumb like Kitchen Sink. That'd be embarrassing.

It's already a little bit embarrassing that she named herself after the AK-47.

[Title: Living Grimoire]

Hm. As it should be.

[Level: 2097]

It's gone up a bit, but that's not surprising considering the fight she won. An extra three levels does seem about right. Seeing that 97 does leave her practically salivating with desire though.

Free World Online had an interesting levelling quirk. Every 300 levels your Class would go through a transformative upgrade and every 500 levels the same would happen for the Race. In practice, what that meant was that every 300 levels you'd get more and better Skills, while the Race upgrade was more focused on stats.

[Race: Demonic Archlich]

Same as it should be. Passing level 2000 is what put the Arch in her Race. She doesn't look like an Undead though. According to most of the Lore, she is only a Demon. Only her friends and the Devs know otherwise.

The various Kingdoms of this world would not take very kindly to learning that Kierra Kalashnikova was a Lich after all. Liches are incredibly unpopular in this world. Some might say that that is her fault, but she would tell them that it is a long story.

[Class: The Mage]

This she is especially proud of. It is a completely unique Class, given to her and her alone. She won't even pretend to be humble by saying that she doesn't deserve it. Since she was in the closed alpha, even if it was a different character, according the the in-game Lore, she is quite literally the first real Mage.

So she is not a Mage. She is The Mage.

She cannot wait to see what will happen on her next Class upgrade, only 3 levels away. She doesn't even know how she can go up from where she already is. She'll be pretty mad if she just gets a plus next to the class.

[STR: 216,434]

[AGI: 130,873]

[CON: 3,188,232]

[INT: 49,923,239]

[WIS: 17,693,326]

[CHA: 862,112]

Her stats have all gone up, though not too much for most of them. Her WIS has gone up a few hundred thousand, but her INT seems to have gone up by over a million.

It's a little excessive at this point, but she certainly won't complain. A bigger mana pool will always be welcome.

Technically she kind of has infinite mana in the first place. She figured out a way to recycle her mana endlessly, so she can cast all day long without having to worry about running out, but there is still a limit to the size of her total pool.

Then again, she doesn't exactly have any Spells that can drain her entire mana pool. That would probably be an end-of-the-world kind of Spell.

...Now she kinda wants to do it.

The thought of Magic brings a smile to her lips and she doesn't hesitate to hold a hand out and cast a simple Tier 1 Spell.

"[Candlelight]."

Unlike in the game, what she then experiences is not a simple input-output.

She actually feels it. The mana thrumming through her veins, full of chaos and destructive potential. She feels knowledge flitting through her brain. Knowledge of Spells. Of how to craft them, to read them, to draw them. Knowledge gained from an unfathomably long life spent in the singular study of Magic.

This knowledge is not her own—she knows. It is Kierra Kalashnikova's knowledge. The understanding and experience of a Legendary Mage from the Mythical Era, all crammed into her head like it was never absent.

Light fills the room as her Spell is realised, but beyond the joyous, jubilant feeling in her stomach, she ignores it. Instead, she closes her eyes and remembers.

A hundred trains of thought fly through Kierra's brain like a horde of wasps buzzing this way and that.

Magical formulae and script fill her mind. Theory and practice and certain understanding in equal measure. In that long moment, she traces the memories of Spell formulae from the 1st Tier all the way up to the 21st. Each exponentially more complex than the last and yet she can picture every Spell circle and read their script as if they were written in plain English.

Sitting there, on the Burning Throne of a dead God, Kierra falls in love a second time as she remembers Magic.

She doesn't know how long she spent sitting there. Hours, maybe days. She doesn't know if she needs to eat or drink or sleep, not with her newfound nature, so she can't use those feelings as a measure.

She doesn't really have much of any memories of Kierra's long life. Her mind is certainly still her own, just with far more knowledge than yesterday. She does have some vague memories from Kierra. They are only faint things that stood out, such as the memory of Kierra casting her first Spell. She thinks she will need some stimulation to recall much of anything more than that.

Glancing down at her body once again now that she is no longer distracted and has had enough time to gather herself, Kierra feels a bout of curiosity towards her new Undead nature.

There's a lot of Lore that goes into Liches in this game—or world, she supposes. She should probably start thinking like that.

But yeah, Liches. The whole process of Lichdom is super important in this world. Kind of like becoming an Immortal in those old Chinese novels. Or like becoming a Demon King in those other novels.

The core thesis of it all is that a Mage, usually a Necromancer but that isn't actually a requirement, would separate their soul from their body, thus achieving immortality. Well, unless they put their soul in a container that ages, but that would be incredibly counter-intuitive.

Beyond just immortality, the Mage in question would get a bunch of benefits. One of them being a significant boost to their Magic. Lore-wise, the reason is that normally a Mage's mana pool would be limited by what the soul can gather through the body. But by disconnecting the two, the soul becomes able to reach for mana by itself, while still being able to use the body to generate even more.

So it basically doubles your mana pool and regeneration at a minimum, among other bonuses.

However, the cost for all these benefits is naturally some mental degradation and a little bit of insanity. At the end of the day, the soul isn't supposed to live outside of the body.

What makes her different from other Liches is her choice of phylactery.

Instead of a great weapon or artifact or crystal or whatever, Kierra stored her soul inside of the still beating heart of a Dragon. Then she implanted that heart inside of her own chest.

So she is only a Lich in the technical sense of the word. She gets all of the benefits and none of the downsides. In fact, she actually gets even more benefits because having a Dragon heart in her chest, in addition to her three Demon hearts, gave her Magic power even more bonuses.

The only benefit she is really missing out on is that she can be killed.

A part of what makes a Lich immortal is that they could totally just chuck their Phylactery into the deepest part of the ocean, or just bury it under a random mountain. Then, so long as the Phylactery remains, it does not matter how many times the Lich is killed.

Since her Phylactery is inside of her body, anybody who can kill her probably won't have to worry about her coming back.

"Mmm, that's a worrying thought. Is there even anyone who can kill me in this world?" A wistful sigh leaves her. "I sure hope so. I want to see more Magic that I have never seen before. It will be depressing if there aren't any strong Mages I can fight. Hm. I wonder if Archmage Aerion will fight me again? It's been a while, but he was the best Human Mage among the NPCs. I'd love to feel his Magic in the flesh."

That thought tugs another memory from her mind.

"Are my NPCs alive and real now too? If so, then at least one of them should be fun to figh- Oh crap!"

Her thoughts immediately screech to a halt as that thought makes her realise something horrible, and she moves as fast as lightning to all but rip open her [Inventory]. When she sees what lies inside, a small, pitiful moan leaves her.

She's been running Mythic Vielduine for the past few days, and since you drop items and money from your [Inventory] when you die, she naturally stored everything away in her house. All she has on her is her equipment and a bunch of highest level potions and consumables. Things she would need for the fight.

She only remembered because the NPC she was thinking about was the one that she designed to guard her home. Her home that has all of her stuff in it. Her home that is very much not here.

Without hesitating in the slightest, Kierra attempts to [Warp] to her home, only to watch as her Spell circle fizzes out right in front of her eyes, leaving her mana to run rampant.

Mana in its base state is inherently chaotic. Left to its own devices it will go around destroying or changing everything it can reach with a reckless abandon. So it is half on instinct that Kierra's hand snaps out to suck all of the wasted mana back through her palm.

The sensation of returning her expended mana to her body should be painful, at least according to the Lore. The only reason it isn't is probably because of her infinite mana trick. Normally, a Mage would use something like [Dispel] to get rid of a failed Spell.

Focusing back on the matter at hand, Kierra considers what she felt while casting the Spell.

In short, she felt nothing at all.

This is suboptimal.

[Warp] is a Spell that connects with the [Set Warp Point] Spell. It's basically customisable fast travel. Which means that when she uses [Warp], she should be able to feel all of her [Warp Points].

But, closing her eyes and focusing outwards, Kierra can only accept with resignation that she cannot feel any of them. They've all been reset.

"Annoying," she mutters to herself. But her bad mood passes almost as soon as it came.

It is hard to stay upset when she has an entire world to explore. She might already know the map like the back of her hand, but there is a difference between experiencing them through a game and in real life.

She wants to see all of the wonderous sights of this beautiful world with her own flesh and blood eyes. Conveniently, her current need to return to her home near the capital is the perfect excuse to go on an adventure!

It's not like there's a real need to rush. Probably. If there is a need to rush, then she can cross that bridge when it smacks her in the face.

She has always been more of a live in the moment kind of person. As far as she is concerned, thinking about the future is as useless as thinking about the past. After all, you only exist in the present. Future Kierra and Past Kierra are purely theoretical. It's like Schrodinger's cat, she can only assume.

Shaking her head, Kierra briefly opens her Skill list. It is very long.

If she were to be fully honest, she does not even remember half of her Spells. There are too many, and she very rarely uses any Spells below the 15th Tier, so it's easy to forget them.

Shrugging, she closes the screen and pushes herself to her feet once more.

Without any [Warp Points], she can only go the steady way. It's still kind of weird that she got all her stats and equipment, but not her [Warp Points]. Though maybe they were connected to the rest of the system somehow? Their disappearance could be related to the disappearance of her [Menu].

Pushing that thought aside for now, Kierra decides on her next course of action. It's fairly simple really. She will just use the [Gate to Nearest city] and hope that this arena is still where she remembers it being.

If so, the nearest city should be Laptilla, the Northern border fortress of the Kingdom of Laptalia. As a general rule, the main continent gets more dangerous the farther North you go, to the point that the far North where she currently is is basically uninhabitable.

Well, for anyone else that is.

Still, she didn't reach her level without learning to balance her whimsical nature with some caution. So takes some reasonable precautions first and starts layering some buffs over herself.

As she does, she wonders at how easy it is. The mana flows like water, as if her Magic is an excitable puppy ready and eager to do her bidding. Almost as if manipulating her mana is a skill she had spent centuries honing. Thank you Lore. Blessed be the Devs that decided that alpha players like her got to keep their test characters' Lore through their accounts.

"[Instant Death Negation]."

"[Protection from Arrows]."

"[Protection from Force]."

"[Protection from Elements]."

"[Mental Fortress]."

"[Freedom of Movement]."

"[Sense Danger]."

"[All-Sight]."

"[Greater Magic Vision]."

"[Mantle of Chaos]."

"[Magic Boost]."

"[Infinity Wall]."

"[Greater Resistance]."

Twenty minutes and a few dozen more Spells later and she can confidently say she is as prepared as she can be. In fact, she is quite literally in the best shape of her life. She has technically been stronger with her main equipment, but this set is designed to fight enemies more powerful than herself anyway.

With the extra 3 levels and unexpected boon of stats she's had, she would still get her butt handed to her by Mythic Vielduine, but at least it wouldn't take so long to drain his health this time.

Shaking the thought away, Kierra casts two final Spells.

"[Perfect Unknowable]."

That Spell, like its name implies, is basically a combination of every concealment Spell. Only, instead of being Tier 7 like [Invisibility] is, this one is Tier 19.

"And now, finally, [Gate to Nearest City]."

Chapter 2: Kierra Kalashnikova: The Mage

Stepping through the swirling portal, Kierra squints her eyes at the change in lighting from gloomy throne room to bright sunny day. Though, she realises a moment later that she only squinted out of habit, as her eyes are actually fine, even if she stares right at the sun.

Almost immediately, she feels someone bump into her and she turns over to see a human man knocked on his butt rubbing at a rib and staring vaguely in her direction with a face full of confusion.

Right. She's invisible right now, and one of her preparation Spells made her portal invisible too.

Oops.

[Fly]

Kierra rises into the air, once more marvelling at just how easy and natural it feels to cast Magic. If she was a more expressive person, she would probably be bouncing this way and that and laughing hysterically to express what she is feeling actually flying under her own power.

But she is not very expressive, so all of that joy and excitement and freedom expresses itself only with a simple, meaningful smile.

However, the moment she stops rising, roughly a hundred metres into the air, Kierra's smile is wiped off of her face and replaced by a look of slight surprise—which may as well be jaw dropping shock for her avatar.

This is not Laptilla, she finds herself thinking as she looks at the busy crowd bustling in the city centre below her. Then, further out she observes the rest of the city.

Absently, she raises a hand out to her side and with a thought, a small orb of white light appears in her palm and rapidly stretches out before disappearing and leaving a simple staff in her waiting hand.

It is not special looking at all. Just a simple staff of gnarled wood, ending in a soft point at the bottom and a twisted spiral on the top like the most classic mage staff there is. Staff in hand, she drops her hand back down and sits herself down on the wood, swinging her legs slightly as she loses herself in thought.

Free World Online is the classic swords and magic type of fantasy. Set in a time with medieval level non-magical technology and full of monarchies instead of oligarchies wearing a trench coat pretending to be republics pretending to be democracies.

Multiculturalism was a big thing in most places, though the various Races tended to keep a degree of separation. Close but separate. Neighbours but not intermixed. She can see down below plenty of diversity. Most of them are Humans of course, followed in number by Beastmen. She even spies a couple of Demons and Dwarves walking by, even an Orc. Not any Elves though, which is understandable since they're pretty underpopulated as a species.

What she is looking at now can't be Laptilla because not only is it some seven times larger than she remembers it being, but the architecture is very clearly renaissance style.

Lame. Medieval gothic architecture is way better, she grumbles to herself. It's not a big deal though. It still looks good. Just not as good as cool towers full of spikes and tall stained glass windows.

What truly has her scowling is when she notices a certain building in the distance. One that looks like a warehouse except with long parallel tracks extending out from it and beyond the horizon.

Is that a damn train!?

To understand Kierra's displeasure at the sight of what seems to be a train station, one must understand one simple thing about her.

Kierra hates technology.

That's why she's always played high fantasy games, even before she got obsessed with this one. The only technology that gives her mixed feelings is the VR tech that let her play Free World Online. Because on one hand, she doesn't like it, but on the other, it let her play in this world and pretend tech doesn't exist.

As for why? Like most things with Kierra, the answer isn't too complicated.

Technology just confuses her and she doesn't like the aesthetic. High fantasy with gothic architecture is the best aesthetic.

Whatever. It's not like she's going to go slaughter everyone who wants to advance technology. She's not insane. She just thinks guns are lame and magic is cool.

That being said, unless some new Bosses have shown up, then she is the closest thing to a God on this planet now. So she could probably invent a Spell to go to a different world eventually, if this one turns lame

She quickly moves on before she can get any ideas about trying to go home, lest she cause a paradox and ruin this chance at true happiness that she has fallen upon.

So instead of letting her thoughts run rampant, Kierra returns to observing the familiar, but unfamiliar city below. Spinning in a slow circle until eventually her eyes land on the fountain at the centre of town. The fountain she arrived next to.

The fountain with a very large statue on it. A very large statue depicting 6 individuals. 6 familiar individuals.

She floats back down to be eye level with the statue. She stares at the statue. It does not respond. Because it is a statue.

A statue of her Party.

Her friends.

"....Hm." She doesn't really know how to feel about this. The sight of her friends reminds her that she won't see them again, but at the same time, it's nice to see them here in stone. Where they won't be forgotten.

It's bittersweet, she decid—wait a damn minute! Why the hell am I so busty!?

Her Party's composition was pretty basic. An Orcish Tank, a Human Warrior, Rogue and Ranger, an Elf Druid and finally, her, the Demon Mage.

The rest of the statues are done accurately. Depicting her friends' avatars as they were. All except for her. They aged her up and made her hella curvaceous.

Do I not look impressive enough? Kierra sulks in her mind before looking down and remembering that that is indeed the case. That thought just makes her scoff though. Don't they understand that a small girl walking around with a nuclear bomb in her pocket is way scarier than a grown woman?

Uncultured swines.

Plus, the giant horns are cute on my tiny body. Though.. Hm, they do look pretty good on adult me too. God I hope I do end up looking like that in the future.

At least they got her equipment right. The statue is wearing her main set, which is a simple toga-style robe with minimal golden adornments. That robe is the single highest level piece of Legacy equipment in the game.

Legacy equipment basically just being stuff that has a lot of Lore to them, generally they are equipment that was very important to some NPC or other. Like an ancient Mage's staff or something.

However, that robe is not the Legacy of any NPCs. It is the robe she wore in the closed alpha. She found it again after the official release by chance, because the Devs were awesome like that about continuity. Then, purely because of sentimental value, she upgraded it over and over again as she got stronger so that it was always the best thing around.

Well whatever. She clearly needs to do some information gathering. Two priorities being why Laptilla, if this even is Laptilla, has changed so much and why the hell her Party has a statue in the middle of the city.

It's not like she didn't know they were a part of the Lore. As the top Party in the game, they were at the forefront of everything, always getting the fist clear of every major Boss. But none of them had statues.

Most of the time, when a Player got added to the Lore it was just in official in-game documents and in the knowledge databases of the NPCs. As far as she knew, the only Player to have ever made enough of an impact on the game as to get statues and stuff was her.

That thought has Kierra sparing a surreptitious glance to the tall, pure white building shining further off in the city. It's a building that fits her aesthetics, being fully gothic and with a giant stained glass window at the front. But she can't enjoy it.

It's just too embarrassing~. She'd rather die.

That's an exaggeration of course, but those are her feelings on the matter.

Moving on, she considers how to go about gathering information.

She doesn't want to draw attention to herself right now. Not out of shyness or anything, but one of her friends spent a very long time drilling some reasonable caution into her head. One of the things he would often tell her is how it is important to understand the situation you are in before acting.

Like, what if there are a bunch of super powerful Dragons waiting to ambush anyone who stands out by asking obvious questions? It's a stupid example, but the point stands.

With that all being said, she doesn't think it'll be too hard to gather information without seeming suspicious.

After all, she is not a Human. She is a Demon. That gives her options for her lies that she wouldn't have as a Human.

With a plan now in mind, Kierra turns away from the bustle of the city and heads North. She doesn't know why she instinctively knows which direction is North, but at this point she is beyond questioning such things.

[Blink]

Between one moment and the next, Kierra travels nearly 3 miles. A little bit father than usual, but she did get a few levels from Vielduine so that's no shocker.

[Blink] is technically not really a Spell for travelling. It's only 8th Tier and is meant to be a short distance teleport for gaining distance in a fight. But with her insane INT stat, there is no such thing as a weak Spell in her hands.

It helps that she has a Highest Tier Class. Not that that is an official name, but that's what everyone called those few Classes that truly stood at the peak. Including herself and her friends, there were maybe 30-something Players with Classes at their level. And less than a quarter of those were unique Classes like hers.

Relevantly, one of the benefits her Class gives her is a flat 40% bonus to her INT. It's busted as all hell and she loves it. She's earned it too.

[Blink]

[Blink]

[Blink]

Normally she would use something like [Greater Teleportation] to get where she is going, but she wants to take some time to enjoy the scenery.

This far North, it's basically always cold, but it still takes a couple [Blinks] before she starts seeing snow.

She's never seen snow before. Not in real life, with her real body on her real skin.

"Is this the part where I poetically swoon about how beautiful it is?" Kierra mutters to herself alone in the sky. "It's pretty and all, but it's just snow."

She shrugs. It's still a pleasant view, and she wouldn't mind just hanging around and enjoying the sight for a while. But it really is just a random snowy forest, it's nothing special. She can think of a few places that she believes would be truly breath-taking to observe in reality. This isn't one of them

Giving one last look around, she continues [Blinking] off into the distance, only stopping now and then to observe the world.

She is heading towards a High Yeti spawn field. It's a place that she spent a while grinding at around the level 900 range, so she's familiar with the location. She could probably navigate herself to anywhere on the planet with just the [Fly] Spell to give her a bird's eye view.

As for why she is going to hunt High Yeti, that is simple. They are roughly in the range of level 1000, and one of the main things that the strategist of her Party imprinted on her was all about estimation and assumptions.

Always assume that your enemies are 50% more powerful than they appear and if you're facing a group, then multiply their number by 1.5 and assume that that is the actual number of enemies and you just can't see them.

Naturally, the inverse of this is that if you must expose yourself in an unfamiliar location, you should only present yourself to have half of your actual ability. So since she is over level 2000, hunting High Yeti will keep her safe from scrutiny. At least in the sense that anyone trying to cause her trouble will very poorly misestimate her power.

Soon enough, she arrives at her destination.

[Detect Presence]

Her mind's awareness spreads out in an instant, covering miles of land and filling her brain with the knowledge of every living creature and their locations.

Magic is so cool~.

[Blink]

Hovering in the air above a small group of High Yeti, Kierra swings her legs back and forth from her seat on her staff as she thinks about how to go about this.

A big part of her wants to use her favourite Spell, but doing so would definitely damage the amount of loot she could get.

...She really wants to though.

It wouldn't have 19 Mastery levels if she didn't love casting it.

I'll use it on one, she eventually decides, pulling one of her legs up to rest on her staff as she thinks so that se can lean her cheek on her knee. But what about the others?

She has so many options available to her. She could kill these Yetis in literally a thousand different ways. Depending on how strict your definition of 'different' is. Plus, this will be her first combat Spell cast. It's got to be a good one.

Most of the 'good ones' wouldn't leave anything left to loot though...

Alright, she's decided. She's going to use a cool Spell.

Floating her staff down, Kierra comes to a stop only an arm's length above the group of Yeti. There are only four of them standing around together on a small hill in this snowy field, but she can sense a bunch more with her detection Spell, so she isn't worried about running out of targets.

Her decision made, Kierra tilts her staff to be pointed at the Yeti without bothering to get off of it and starts channelling.

Normally they probably would have noticed her channelling a Spell right next to them, especially one this powerful. But she still has her suite of Buffs up, which includes plenty enough concealment.

It's an interesting feeling to be casting the Spell. As a Tier 22 Spell, one of her strongest, it feels different to all the other ones she's cast so far. She has to actually think about the Spell to draw it into reality, and it is just fascinating to watch the expanding Spell circle appear in front of her, rapidly growing in complexity before her very eyes.

But she isn't the best for nothing, and it only takes her a dozen seconds to finish drawing out the Spell circle. It is a rather large, multi ringed Spell circle, tinged a slight green and all but oozing majesty. What isn't quite clear upon casual observation however is that each and every rune drawn on the circles is actually made up of hundreds of tiny runes.

The complexity of this single Spell surpasses the combined complexity of every single Spell she knows below Tier 17 combined. It is one of her greatest prides, and definitely worthy of being the first true Spell to be cast by her hands in truth.

Ahh~, this is going to be so cool~, she thinks as she opens her moth to speak the final incantation, even if she doesn't really need to. But high level Magic should be incanted out loud! It's all about the aesthetic.

"[Original Spell - Advent of Theoretical Demise]."

The Spell activates and she watches with wide eyes of awe as it takes effect. A portion of reality around the Yetis flickers and then she watches, and feels through her Magical senses, as reality shifts.

One moment, she is looking at 4 panicking Yetis on a snowy hill, the next, the hill is replaced by a lake of molten lava, emanating so much heat that the surrounding snow starts to melt. The Yeti all sink into the bubbling liquid, filling the air with desperate cries of agony.

But a moment later, reality shifts again, leaving all the Yeti bar one untouched by the lava that was just melting them. Only one is charred black as coal, though it stands as if it is healthy as the rest.

The Yeti are all clearly confused and panicked when they then notice that the abrupt lava lake has been replaced by a barren patch of cracked black earth. But they have no time to consider the situation before a vile, ink black pallor starts climbing up their legs like infected veins.

The screams restart a moment later, a pain much more primal this time as their bodies are decayed from the inside out, Necrotic energy filling their veins like blood.

Once more, right as they should have died, reality shifts again. This time, they are back on their snowy hill and two are still unharmed. One is still charred and another has retained the sickly black veins spreading through its body.

Their small minds don't get enough time to try and understand their situation before a meteor falls from the sky like a bullet and crashes into them. Reality shifts again immediately after the impact, barely leaving a flash of light from the explosion, leaving the 4 Yetis standing on a dune of coarse red sand.

The only unchanged Yeti visibly panics at the sight of the other previously unchanged Yeti's current lack of skin.

Alas, it doesn't even manage to scream before all four of them rapidly start to age, their hair growing out like curtains and skin wrinkling and back bending and then, right before Time would have turned them to dust, reality shifts one final time.

Four unharmed Yetis stand on a small hill in a snowy field.

She watches with expectant eyes as the four of them stand stock still, unmoving like statues of flesh and bone.

A gust of wind blows over the hill and all four Yetis tumble and collapse. Puppets with cut strings.

In the silence that follows, only filled with the howling of arctic winds, Kierra starts to giggle.

"Hoho~! That was so cool~!" She all but squeals as she flies her broom down and hops off, boots crunching snow underfoot.

As expected of one of her highest level original Spells. She even feels a little bit short of breath. That Spell isn't easy to cast, not even for her.

[Advent of Theoretical Demise] is easily the most complex of her original Spells. It combines Probability Magic with Dimensional Magic and Time Magic. Three branches of Magic that are each considered 'forbidden' for the potential world ending ruin they could bring about if misused. All combined together into a single killing Spell.

What it does is actually fairly simple, even if the way it actually works is as insanely complex as should be expected of her Magnum Opus. It honestly fills her with so much excitement just tracing her mind over the Spell formulae. It truly is a work of art.

As for how it works? It's quite simple.

First, the Spell locks a bubble of reality at about a football stadium in length.

Second, the Spell uses a mix of Dimensional Magic and Probability Magic to effectively 'search' for a 'potential death' that someone within the AoE could have theoretically experienced. Then the Dimensional Magic constructs a temporary Dimension that manifests that formally potential future into reality.

Third, once the target dies, the Spell picks another target within the AoE at random and restarts the process, using Time Magic to reverse the experienced death and some other Magics to keep the affected party alive and healthy, with only cosmetic consequences of their death.

Fourth, after the previous process has repeated for every target inside and they have all experienced a potential death, reality shifts back to normal, Time in the area returning to the moment the Spell was cast. Only, every 'potential death' that was experience is shifted from 'potential' into 'certain', and everyone affected drops dead without a single wound on their body.

In other words.. It's freakin' awesome~!

God, she loves Magic so much.

With a light feeling in her chest, Kierra hums happily as she hovers over each corpse and activates [Loot] one after the other. The Skill is incredibly convenient, stripping all the loot from the corpses in mere moments.

[Loot: High Yeti ]

[+ 2 High Yeti Fang ]

[+8 High Yeti Claw ]

[+1 Advanced Ice Core ]

[+12 High Yeti Leather ]

[+34 High Tier Monster Meat ]

[+1 Primordial Essence (Ice) ]

"Ooh~ Primordial Essence~, that's a rare drop~."

Now, to an outside observer the sight of such a young-looking girl, dressed in exquisite robes and wearing such a large, frumpy hat, cheerfully humming a tune as she strips the corpses of her enemies of everything useful might raise some questions.

Answering them is actually rather simple.

See, to understand, one just needs to know a single thing about Kierra Kalashnikova. The reason why she loves Magic.

Like all things involving Kierra, the answer is very simple.

You see, as far as she is concerned, Magic is a tool for killing.

That is the whole point of learning Magic. So you can have cool, awesome duels against fellow Mages. Magic against Magic. Violence against Violence. That is what she loves about Magic.

The combat.

She was a bit of a delinquent as a kid.

The rest of it is nice and all. It's not like there are any aspects of Magic that she doesn't love. It is just that her main motivation for mastering so much Magic has always been so that she could fight other Mages. For it is only through combat that they can learn who is the better Mage, and she was determined to hold that Title.

And indeed she did. She has bested every prominent Mage in the game. All of the top level NPCs that she could get away with duelling, she would. Those she couldn't she would fight under a disguise. Similarly, any Player that both managed to reach within 100 levels of her and was a Mage, she would duel.

Over and over, constantly feeling the joy of fighting people with just as much variety as her. People who could throw Spells at her that she'd never seen before.

Over and over again. Until eventually, not even that long ago, she ran out of opponents.

That is why there is no doubt. Why no one will ever contest the claim.

That Kierra Kalashnikova is The Mage.

Chapter 3: Getting Some Answers

After playing around a bit in the arctic wilds, Kierra did eventually return to the fortress city she believes to be Laptilla.

By the time she is flying back over the tall surrounding wall, the day is nearing its end.

She might have gotten a bit carried away playing with her Magic.

The original plan was to maybe play with a couple of Spells and then kill the rest of her hunt by just using Instant Death Magic. It's quick and easy and leaves the bodies in perfect condition for harvesting.

But in the end, she couldn't bring herself to only use one Spell, so she ended up trying out a bunch. Then she ended up forgetting about time and hunting way more Yetis than she was intending to.

She just didn't want to stop throwing around new Spells~. It's so fun~.

If she wasn't already incredibly prideful of her ability as a Mage, then she might have been worried about developing an ego from the power at her fingertips.

But, even if she feels like she's repeating herself by thinking this, you don't put 50,000 hours in a single game while being normal.

The street is still pretty busy by the time she is coming in for a landing near the Adventurer's Guild—which is thankfully still where she remembers it being.

However, as she is looking for a nice, out of the way alley to dispel her invisibility in, she is forced to do a double take when she sees herself walking down the street.

A closer look quickly reveals that the doppelganger in question is actually just a pretty poor imitation of her.

First of all, they're as tall as her statue and busty to match. Secondly, the marks around the eyes are a bit off and the horns are too small—aaand on closer inspection the horns aren't even real. They're props.

Lastly, Kierra doesn't think she has ever worn anything that skimpy on her avatar.

That one beach episode doesn't count. She doesn't know how her friends convinced her to do that.

Floating above the imposter, Kierra watches as the stranger's face lights up looking in the near distance. A moment later and she is watching as her doppelganger runs up to and hugs someone else dressed up as one of her friends. Yeveline, the Elf of the Party.

The hell is going on here?

"Oh my gosh your 'kova looks so good! Where did you get those horns!?" The lady imitating Yeveline practically gushes over her fellow imposter.

A moment later and Kierra's brain feels like it's melting from the excited chatter rapidly shared between these two friends.

Apparently, today is the day of some festival or other and for some reason, some people want to dress up as her Party. Context clues tells Kierra that it seems her Party have become renown Heroes.

She does have the Title, so it makes sense if she doesn't think about it to hard

She has also learned that there is what basically amounts to a cosplay shop in this city that sells fake non-human attachments. It sounds too 'furry' to her so she thinks she'll stay away from all of that.

Furries are scary, they have sex and carry guns.

Kierra doesn't know much about furries.

Also, why is her name the only one getting shortened? They use Yeveline's full name but shorten hers to 'kova? The hell? Does she have bad karma? First the statue and now the name, does nobody respect her?

Well, whatever. No point in theorising when she was always planning on getting answers a minute ago anyway.

However, now that she knows people are dressing up as her, she has had a fun idea to improve her plan.

Is this idea even an improvement? Technically, yes. If you squint.

More importantly however, it is funny.

With that in mind, Kierra spins around on her staff and flies the way of the Guild once more.

[Fly] and [Invisibility] are both 7th Tier Spells, and she's here with loot from 10th Tier monsters, so she changes her mind about dismissing the invisibility out of sight, feeling that it's pointless.

It'd be like if a normal person started and won a bar fight outnumbered and then tried to tell you he was a pacifist.

Not that she's using [Invisibility], but a moth can only assume that the sun is another lamp simply because it is too lowly to fathom anything greater. Same concept here.

So, still seated on her staff, oversized frumpy hat drooping enough to cover her eyes, Kierra simply dispels [Perfect Unknowable] and flies down at a sedate speed.

She attracts attention almost immediately, and the random people looking up prompts more people to see what the fuss is about.

Most people avert their attention and go back to their business after taking in the sight for a bit, and she doesn't fail to notice how those that keep their attention on her mostly seem to have some manner of badge on their chests.

Going by the colours, she assumes they're adventurers. Weak ones though.

Her descent stops with her toes hanging a foot off the ground, which still puts her below eye level to the average man. That thought makes her smile inside, even if her avatar doesn't change expression.

Being small was a part of the aesthetic, so she doesn't mislike it. Teeny tiny ancient Demon Witch Kierra~!

Nobody tries to get in her way as she floats into the building. The brim of her hat takes up most of the open double door as she passes.

The inside at least is about how she remembers it.

The majority of the room is basically a tavern. Tables, chairs, booze in olde timey tankards. On the far right is the quest board and on the far left is the stairs to the upper rooms.

She takes the time to observe it all as she meanders her way to the counters at the opposite end of the room from the door.

Her hat naturally has an Enchantment that lets her see through the brim, allowing her to see the room when no one else can even see her eyes. It is very useful.

Kierra is kind of disappointed by what she sees.

She obviously won't be so incautious as to dismiss the possibility of someone hiding their aura from her. It shouldn't be too hard since she's only using her Passive senses right now and not any Skills.

Still, one of her Passives lets her see magical auras. It's not necessarily a measure of strength. Just how much mana a person has. She's known people and NPCs both that have been incredibly powerful even with low mana pools.

One Player comes to mind who put everything into WIS to focus on mana regen instead of total amount. He was actually a pretty good fight in PvP until she figured out her own infinite mana trick. He did inspire her to do so though, so she won't knock him.

She reaches the front counter before she can continue getting lost in thought. There are four women standing behind the counter. Two are busy so she moves to one of the free receptionists. A young blonde woman. Very homely looking. Oh, Human too. It's kind of weird that she's going to have to start noting that.

"Hello, Miss Witch, my name is Lisa, how may I help you today?" The receptionist, Lisa, asks. Going for cheery but only making it halfway. I get it though. Customer service is rough.

Kierra isn't a Witch, well, not anymore, but she is dressed like one, so she won't bother trying to correct the Title. It's not like it really makes a difference. She is The Mage after all, she can play the role of any Magical Class she wants.

"Do you still buy monster parts here?" The wording here is important.

Lisa tilts her head at her question, but answers as dutifully as is her job.

"Yes, though if you aren't a registered Adventurer then the Guild will take a 10% tax on sales. If you are a registered–"

"I'm not," Kierra cuts her off. "I would like to sell some monster parts and book a consultation, if possible."

"A consultation?" Lisa seems surprised, and Kierra can figure why when the lady's eyes rake over her very clearly high quality equipment. "We certainly do yes, in fact, we encourage it for new Adventurers, though most choose to ignore that encouragement. Do you want to–"

"I don't." Cutting this lady off for a second time kind of makes her feel bad. "Sorry for interrupting you, Lisa. I am an Elf, and I haven't been to Laptilla in many years. It has changed a lot, and I am very much out of the loop. I just need to get caught up, I'm not interested in becoming an Adventurer."

Kierra even 'proves' it by lifting her hat enough at one side to show a long pointy ear. Demons typically have ears somewhere in-between the long Elves and normal Humans. She should probably stop thinking of Human as normal actually. But she made her avatar in a character creation screen, so her ears are like an Elf's anyway.

More relevantly, Elves live even longer than Demons, so she has a greater margin to work with or whatever number she wants to come up with for how long she's been away.

As for joining the Adventurer's Guild, that will never happen. The Adventurer's Guild is just another Guild after all. Worse, it's basically a Government too.

Kierra already has her own Guild, though she has no idea how much of it is still standing. But as Guildmaster, it would be absurd for her to join another Guild. An insult to her friends.

"Oh," Lisa's eyes light up with understanding, as if a puzzle she did not understand suddenly became clear. "I see. In that case, if you will just wait a moment, both can be done immediately?"

A nod wouldn't be seen under her hat, so Kierra dips her entire staff in imitation of one.

Lisa stares for a second before leaving with a quietly muttered, "Cute."

Indeed. What's it called, Gap Moe? Kierra is only half sure she understands the phrase right, so she's not sure if she counts or not. Is a small, cute girl Gap Moe if she has a nuke in her pocket? She was too busy gaming to be a weeb, so she doesn't know.

Lisa returns before she can figure an answer to the question and dutifully leads her up the stairs.

"Mr Lynsil has been working here for longer than I've been alive," Lisa chuckles lightly at the thought but quickly continues, "And I'm pretty sure he was here a hundred years ago, so I'm sure he'll be able to answer any question you have."

"I see. Thank you." Kierra notes the weird emphasis placed on he 'a hundred years ago' bit but doesn't think too hard about it. It's not like she'll be able to figure it out.

It's also kind of crazy that everyone is just taking in stride the fact that she is riding in on a floating stick. No on has even questioned it.

They soon reach the right room, and Lisa knocks twice before opening it and beckoning her inside. Kierra floats in without a word.

"Miss Witch to see you, Mr Lynsil," Lisa says before sending a short bow Kierra's way and leaving, closing the door behind her.

Kierra's attention then turns back to the room, quickly spotting this Mr Lynsil. She is only mildly surprised to find that he is a Demon like her, having expected an Elf by the name.

He is an old man, though age certainly hasn't been hard on him. He stands tall and his skin doesn't droop with wrinkles. The only part of him that really looks old is the head full of wispy grey hair.

She notices that he is studying her as much as she is him, though he obviously can't see as much. Or perhaps what he can see is enough to make certain assumptions.

Without really thinking about it, Kierra's eyes flicker up to the man's horns. She immediately notes that they are straight, jutting out from the front of his forehead. The sign of Commoner blood in the Demon races.

You can generally tell how noble a Demon is by how curved their horns are and by how far back on the head they start. Kierra's own horns for instance denote Royalty.

Oh crap, is she a Princess now?

Her thoughts are interrupted by the old coot letting out a gentle chuckle.

"I see you are well learned in Demonic culture, Miss Elf," he says genially, bringing a hand up to touch his horns as he des so. How the hell did he know she was looking at that? As if he heard her, he continues, "You develop a sixth sense for this sort of thing eventually."

"Ah, I don't mean any offence."

"And I am not offended," he smiles placatingly. It's kind of weird honestly.

While Demons aren't mindless brutes like monsters or anything, it would still be a lie to say that they're as peaceful by nature as, say, an Elf.

Some Beastmen are worse as well, but generally, Demons aren't so nice. But again, there is a difference between not being nice and actively being mean. Demons are still a sapient species like Humanity.

"Would you like to sit?" The friendly Demon offers a hand to the sofa opposite him as he takes a seat of his own.

She accepts and floats over, dropping herself into the cushions and leaving her staff over her lap.

"I was informed you are here for a consultation and to sell monster parts. Would you like to do the latter first, as it should only take a moment?"

She nods her head, though she isn't sure if he could tell. But he hasn't asked her to take her hat off, so she isn't going to. "Sure."

Now, the first test. What's the situation with inventory. Is it just her, or does everyone have the same system? In the Lore, it was explained that the system is basically the consciousness of Magic itself in reality and that was why it was available to everyone.

With that in mind, Kierra starts pulling out bits of Yeti and piling them on the table.

She only brings out the loot from the first 4 she killed. She doesn't actually care about the money after all. The whole hunting thing was just an excuse. She plans to go to the bank later to see if she still has access to her vast wealth.

"Hmm, I see. High Yeti? Quite an impressive hunt you have had, Miss Elf." Lynsil quickly goes about examining everything with a critical eye as he mutters to himself. "Expertly harvested, a Skill? Perfectly preserved, very good. Ah, don't feel the need to answer any of these questions, I'm just talking to myself."

"Hm." She wasn't planning to. Not unless she was directly asked. More importantly, Lynsil didn't react to her use of her inventory, and even pulled a cute little magnifying glass out of nowhere. So she can safely assume that [Inventory] isn't anything special.

He wasn't wrong about it not taking long. Maybe twenty minutes pass before he is done examining it all. She passes the time easily enough by getting lost in the endless list of Spell formulae dancing around in the back of her brain.

"These are all in excellent condition, and as it happens, High Yeti are rarely hunted these days, so there is a good market for them," Lynsil says, pulling her from her thought experiment about attaching a [Flashbang] Spell and a [Darkness] Spell to a [Wind Vortex] Spell in order to make a truly crazy strobe light.

Seeing her not responding, Lynsil continues, "All together, I can fairly price these at 12 Platinum and 6 Gold. Deducting the tax for non-Adventurers and I can buy these parts from you for 11 Platinum, 3 Gold and 4 Silver. Is this acceptable?"

Holy crap that's like barely anything. If that's what all this goes for, then she really hopes she still has access to her bank account, because she must be stupidly rich.

"It's fine," she responds, fulfilling the transaction. A moment later and she is tucking a pouch of barely any coin away in her inventory.

"Now," Lynsil begins again once he has finished tucking all of the parts he just bought away, some in various draws and some in his own inventory. Presumably so they don't spoil. "Lisa informed me that you have not visited Laptilla in many years. Would you be willing to give me a more clear picture of your situation so that I may better know what pertinent information you might be lacking?"

"Sure. A while ago, I made myself a small home in the mountains to the North. I don't have an exact number for how long ago, but this city was maybe one seventh its current size when I last saw it. I wanted to be isolated so that I could focus on my Magical experiments. Now, I am done with them but find myself lost in a world that looks the same whilst being completely unrecognisable."

Witches are the most likely Class of Mage to isolate themselves in the middle of nowhere for the sake of doing experiments in peace, and Elves can easily lose track of the years and find themselves in foreign worlds. So her explanation should be believable enough. She doubts it's the first time this sort of thing has happened exactly as she described it.

"Hmm, I see, I see. It has been many years indeed. To still appear so young after so much time, you must be quite the impressive Witch, Miss Elf. Though, I suppose that much is clear from the bounty of your hunt."

She's waiting for him to ask her her name, yet he seems adamant not to. She doesn't really care either way. Miss Elf or Miss Kierra or Miss Witch, what does it really matter what he calls her? So long as a word can be understood to refer to a person or object, then it functions as a name.

"I'm young at heart," Kierra absently speaks into the silence, getting a polite chuckle out of the old man.

"Indeed, aren't we all?" She watches as his amusement fades back into a professional smile as he continues, "Now, one last question so that I know where to start. Did you go into your isolation before, or after the Party of Heroes brought an end to the Age of Blood, and the beginning of the Age of Peace?"

"Eh?" The hell is he talking about right now? Age of Blood?

"Ah, I see." Lynsil makes a face like everything now makes sense, and his tone even turns somewhat sympathetic. "In that case, the world must truly seem strange to you, Miss Elf. Allow me to start from the beginning then."

Kierra nods for him to continue, while inwardly she finds some amusement in the thought that she has basically just triggered a cutscene. So much for the game becoming real, she thinks with a snort,

Naturally, her face expresses none of this. Just the same small, aloof smile.

"As I am sure you are aware, long ago, the Mythical Era came to an end by the hand of the Lich King Menethas Lietzsche. Better known as the Original Cataclysm. Then came the Age of Darkness, followed by the Age of Enlightenment, wherein the Second Cataclysm emerged. The Lich King's favoured Apprentice, or daughter, depending on the version of the the story you favour."

Kierra very carefully ensures that she doesn't give a single reaction when Lynsil abruptly names one of her Titles. She hadn't really comprehended it yet, but if her avatar is real, then that would make all of her Lore real too, wouldn't it?

If she was still a Human, she is sure she would be sweating buckets right now. Luckily, Demons do not sweat. They just get really really hot.

This Mythical Era that Lynsil mentioned seems to just be the closed alpha she was in over a decade ago. As for that Lich King, Kierra herself can kind of be blamed for that. Since she spent so much time in game, she became one of the Dev's favourite play testers and ended up befriending a couple of them.

As it happens, after the closed alpha ended, alongside all of her notes about the game and any bugs and stuff she found, she also made a suggestion. With her insane new INT stat augmenting her brain, she remembers the message she sent them with perfect clarity.

"There aren't enough people for good PvP, so there's no one to fight. Can you add a Boss? Like an evil Lich King or something? Those are cool. Could make it an event for the whole alpha. Players versus the evil Lich King. It'd be good to see how your engine handles so many Players fighting in the same area."

...Whoops? In her defence, it really was just a game. There's nothing weird about wanting more Boss fights in a game. How was she supposed to know there was multiverse shenanigans going on? Assuming that this world is a result of the whole, infinite possibilities equalling certainties thing.

If anything is possible, then everything becomes certain.

And she isn't the Lich King's daughter. This 'Age of Enlightenment' he mentioned would probably be the closed beta. She managed to become a Queen during that. Then, when the open beta came out, she decided it would be cool if the Lich King's Apprentice took up his Staff and tore down the Kingdom that she literally just got finished building a few months prior. Relatively speaking.

"Now, those two are ancient history," Lynsil continues, not having noticed the many thoughts that flew through her mind in the time it took him to take a breath. "However, nearly two hundred years ago now, a Third Cataclysm was born. And then a Fourth, a Fifth, Sixth, all the way up to Ninth. For over a century, seven Cataclysms ravaged the world, bringing about untold destruction, wiping entire cities off of the map and almost bringing about the end of all life as we know it."

Yeah.. That checks out.

Cataclysms get their name because they are scary. The Lich King was pretty weak by her current standards, but at the time he was twice the level cap. It took literally everyone in the open alpha plus all the NPCs working together to beat him.

She was similar during the beta, having the advantage of experience over the new players as well as some Legacy equipment from the Lich King. She turned her entire former Kingdom into a ruin of Undeath.

As for the seven that were in the main game? Yeah, they were messed up. Lore-wise, Vielduine was the strongest of them, and he reduced at least one major city to naught but ash.

The weakest of them was yet another Lich, and she feels kind of bad about it because he was the NPC she made in the beta. So technically the Sixth Cataclysm was her Apprentice. And, now that she thinks about it, the Fifth is kind of her fault too, since his Lore comes from a joke she made in the closed beta that the Devs kept around. So... Whoops and whoops again, I guess?

But despite being the weakest of them, The Sixth still had the might of roughly three Kingdoms combined and a truly gargantuan army of Undead.

Sadly for him, massive armies of weak monsters is like a buffet for Players. There is little a Mage can enjoy more than blasting the hell out of an endless tide of zombies, so he didn't last long against the 'enthusiasm' of the Players.

Still, as a game, it was amazing. But just thinking about living in a world with those seven Cataclysms running around... That must have been seriously terrifying.

"I am familiar with the Third and Fourth Cataclysms," Kierra interjects. She knows that the first two of the seven came quite a bit earlier than the rest, so it seems like a good time to inject her fake story.

"I see. Well, after the other five came, it seemed as if it was the end of the world. All the nations gathered together could barely contend against one of them, let alone all seven. However, they say that it is in times of adversity that great men make themselves known, and that is indeed what happened. When we were at our most desperate, the Party of Heroes appeared and slew a Cataclysm with just the six of them, a feat many thought impossible."

Kierra is starting to see where this is going, and she doesn't think she likes it. Actually, she immediately changes her mind. She likes it a lot. Being a part of the Lore has always been cool to her, except for when it was embarrassing. Stupid Devs thinking they're funny.

"If you have been in isolation all this time, then you should definitely remember their names, for they are greatly important to the people of today. In no particular order, the Party of Heroes consisted of Yeveline Moonlight, an Elven Druid. Grognak, an Orcish Warrior. Osori Mihae, a Human Warrior. Flynn Rider, Rogue, Human. Jorm, another Human, Ranger. And lastly, the leader of the Party, Kierra Kalashnikova, a Demonic Mage."

It is as she suspected.

So, she and her friends are all Legendary Heroes? Isn't that kind of cool? Does it make up for kinda sorta being responsible for a few of said Cataclysms? Probably not.

On the bright side, Kierra's Lore is absolutely amazing now. Seriously, Kierra Kalashnikova is such a dang cool character! Is it weird to fangirl over herself in this situation? Probably. Won't stop her though.

Also, she tries not to show any reaction to the names Lynsil listed out. Not because just hearing the names of her friends will make her flinch or anything.

It's just that this is real life now. Which means that their names are all real now.

Perhaps someone who hasn't, oh she doesn't know, played a video game ever in their life, might not see the big deal. But the thing with that is that even in roleplaying games like this, there are still people who name their characters dumb stuff like 'IMolestHatsuneMiku'.

Which sucks for her—Kierra she means, though that must suck for Hatsune Miku too—because that means that now she is going to have to just deal with the fact that she will be hearing people call Jorm Jorm, not knowing that that is just a nickname.

His character's actual name is 'Your Mom Calls Me Daddy', which is not the kind of name a normal person should have in a real world. Since it's such a mouthful, everyone just combined the 'Your Mom' part into Jorm and left it at that. Apparently the NPCs picked up on that.

The only other name issue that will probably leave her trying not to react to hearing it at some point is Grognak. Because his character's full name is 'Grognak The Destroyer, Attorney at Law, Esquire, MD'. Apparently it's a reference to some ancient show or something, he wasn't clear about the details because he constantly spoke like a caveman.

God she hated him so damn much, just thinking about him is pissing her off he was so damn annoying.

"I see," Kierra says, her voice as aloof as ever and not showing a hint of her internal thoughts. "And I suppose this Party of Heroes defeated the remaining Cataclysms as well?"

"Indeed they did," Lynsil confirms with a smile and a nod. "They were the greatest of their respective disciplines that the world has ever seen. I myself got the chance to see them in person once, and let me tell you, it was truly awe inspiring to see. Especially Lady Kalashnikova, though perhaps I am bias on that front."

She hopes he's not saying that to hint that he knows he's talking to said 'Hero'. She decides to assume he isn't.

"Because she is a Demon?" Kierra asks, mostly to be polite but also just a little bit because she wants to hear the reason.

Surprising her, Lynsil shakes his head negative.

"That is only part of it," he admits, his eyes falling into the middle distance, lost in memories. "It is a little known fact that Kierra Kalashnikova was actually born as a Commoner as well. But through her own efforts, she managed to rise all the way to Royalty. It is..." Lynsil's head dips low, old emotions pulling at him. "It was inspiring," he decides. "Perhaps it is silly, but it was as if she was telling me that we could rise. That it was possible for even a Commoner like me to become someone, and I know that I was not the only Demon to feel this way."

Kierra... She doesn't know what to say.

She was just a dumb loser with an ego playing a stupid game with her friends instead of going outside and falling in love or whatever. She might have been amazing at the game, but that was all she really had. Beyond that, she was no one special. No one at all.

So to suddenly be faced with such sincere admiration...

It's different to the kind of admiration she received for her achievements in Free World Online. That was just people praising her for being good at a game. It was hardly deep.

But here, in this world? The Nobility of the Demon Race isn't like the other Races. You can't just get elected or whatever. Your place in society was entirely determined by your blood. Because your blood determined your strength. Demon Lords are all vastly superior to Demon Knights and Commoners and then Demon Kings are stronger still.

Lore-wise, nothing a Player does is impossible for an NPC to achieve, with the sole exception of respawning. Accessing the [Menu] too, she supposes.

Which is to say that it is not impossible for a Demon to raise the quality of their blood. If they train hard enough, long enough. If they are talented enough, lucky enough. Then it is not impossible.

But in practice? It's more like a theoretical option that only happens by virtue of outlier data.

When she was playing the game, she chose to be a Demon purely for the horns. She went from Commoner to Knight at level 500, then Knight to Lord at 1000. Lord to King at 1500 and then King to Emperor at 2000. Though, she had replaced such suffixes with Lichdom around when she was a Demon Lord, so it's more in the background than directly on her Status.

Obviously, when Free World Online was just a game, she didn't put any thought to any of this. Why would she? It's just a game. You level up and evolve and level up some more, no biggie. Why would she ever have considered what her advancement might have meant to the people of this world?

"Ah, my apologies," Lynsil coughs awkwardly, apparently having taken my silence as impatience or something. "Please forgive an old man for rambling, I did not mean to bother you with such things."

She doesn't respond right away. Not because she doesn't want to, but just because she can't decide on what to say.

"...It's fine," Kierra eventually settles on, just to break the awkward silence, but when Lynsil opens his mouth to keep talking, she finds herself speaking up again before he can, surprising herself. "I knew her. Kierra."

Damn it.

Lynsil's eyes widen a fraction as he looks at her with clear shock and some, other, indescribable emotion in his eyes that she feels rather uncomfortable to see directed her way.

This goes directly against her goal of subtlety, but whatever. It's not that big of a deal, and honestly?

She would probably hate herself if she said nothing here.

"You did?" He asks her, a fair mix of disbelieving and intrigued.

"Hm." She nods, still trying to think of what to say. Nothing comes to mind, so to avoid any more silence, she decides to screw it and just speak from the heart. "I did not know her as a Hero though. Just Kierra. So just... I want you to know, that if Kierra was here, she would be glad to see how you seem to have found happiness here. She—Kierra.. She would probably tell you how flattering it is for you to hold her in such high regard. Kierra... She always believed in freedom. She felt that Magic was her path to freedom, so she devoted herself to it entirely, but not everyone has the same path. So... I guess.. What I'm trying to say here. Is that as long as you dedicate yourself to finding, and more importantly living your own happiness, then she would be proud of you. I know, for a certainty, that she would be happy to be able to point your way and proudly say 'This is my kin. My brother of blood. This, is me.'"

A beat passes in silence, and Kierra has never in all her 9 hours of living been more glad that this body is even less expressive than her Human one. Else she'd probably be blushing up a storm right now.

God, this is so awkward, why did I say all that crap aaaaaahhh!! So embarrassing~! I wanna dieeeee!

Kierra's self loathing is cut short by the sharp sound of a single, forced sniff. To her absolute shock, she looks up to see Lynsil dapping at his damp eyes with a white piece of cloth.

Kierra's brain promptly bluescreens.

Her eyes watch without really computing as Lynsil takes his time composing himself. As if she just gave an actually inspiring speech or something instead of just her stupid NEET ramblings. Is her CHA stat cheating or something? That's gotta be it, right? Right?

"Ahem ahem." Now recomposed, Lynsil clears his throat and tucks his napkin back away into his inventory before returning his full attention to her. She dislikes the amount of positivity radiating from him. It's too much for an introvert like her.

"Miss Witch, I must once again apologise for losing control of myself. Additionally, thank you. Your words.. Just, thank you. I cannot express enough my gratitude. I feel... As if I can now truly be content with my life. Because I have found happiness here, a wife whom I adore and a growing son. It is.. It is incredibly relieving to learn more of Lady Kalashnikova. To know that she would not look down on me for my choices or my weakness. So thank you, for telling me this. You did not have to."

Kierra does an awkward half shrug that her avatar thankfully translates into a casual, careless gesture.

"It's fine. Since she was a Commoner too, it's the least I can do to pass on a message for her. And just call me Kette." She probably should have picked a random name instead of the one she used on her first account, but meh, no one knows it anyway. Anyone who did is bound to be dead, bar one, but he isn't exactly going to be going anywhere.

"You must have been quite close with Lady Kalashnikova indeed, Miss Kette. Hah, don't worry, I don't intend to pry. The last I will say on the subject is that it is nice to hear that she could still call a Commoner like me a brother, even when she stands as Royalty."

Kierra only doesn't shrug because she's done it too many times too recently and it'd look weird. So instead she did that thing where you half raise a hand in front of you, kind of like a shrug but just with one hand.

"Yeah well, Kierra never was one to put much stock in Governments, or implied authority in general really."

For some reason he seems to find that funny.

"Right then." Lynsil visibly shakes away the previous conversation, returning to his professional demeanour, even if he does not seem so stiff anymore. He smiles at her. "Where were we?"

"The Party of Heroes were defeating the Cataclysms."

"Ah yes, I remember now." She feels rather glad when he returns to his explanations, letting her move past that whole awkward encounter. "One by one, the Cataclysms fell to the Party of Heroes, and with them, the Kingdoms of the world could breath again. They could start retaking land and rebuilding what was destroyed. However, after defeating six Cataclysms in a row, the Heroes were left with only one foe remaining. The strongest of them, the Burning Apostle."

Lynsil's eyes harden with sorrow as he continues his story in a direction Kierra thinks she can predict.

"In the end, the Burning Apostle was too strong. While the Legendary Party of Heroes did manage to slay the mad God, such a victory came at great cost. For the first time, they suffered a tragic loss. Five of the Heroes have been confirmed as dead long ago via various Magical means. Only Kierra Kalashnikova's fate is unknown. But that battle was one hundred years ago, and she has not been seen since."

Damn. So she really won't be able to see her friends in this world, huh? That's kind of depressing. At least she knows that they aren't actually dead. That would be even more depressing.

"Which brings me to today," Lynsil continues. "Your timing is fortunate, Miss Kette, as it has been exactly one hundred years since the Heroes gave their lives to save us and bring about the Age of Peace. Today is the centennial celebration of 'Peace Day', where we honour the sacrifice of the Heroes and mourn and celebrate all those that lived and died fighting in the chaos of the Age of Blood."

Ahhhhhhhhhh. So that's why people were dressing up as us! Because we're the focus of the festival. That's kind of hilarious, I could totally walk outside in my usual outfit and people would just compliment me on the quality of it. After all, what's more likely, some brat got a really good outfit, or a century long disappeared Hero of Lore has abruptly shown up and is also 2 foot shorter than the statues.

Also, it's been a full century? Are her NPCs even still alive? Her Guild? Her bank account? Her fricking house!?! She only has Boss fight stuff on her right now! After all, you drop money and items when you die in Free World Online. So if you're gonna be running a Boss over and over like she was, then you leave everything in your inventory somewhere else, including your money. That's why he's broke right now.

But more importantly, all of her crap is in her basement! Oh God up in Heaven, please let my stuff have survived the century. At least my robe. Please please please, it's so important to me it's insane.

And wait a minute, if Lynsil has seen Kierra in person, then wouldn't he know that the statues are way too busty?

"As far as major events, that is all that I believe you will really need to know urgently," Lynsil says, cutting her thought short. "Of course, I would always suggest further reading, but all that really needs to be known is that the various Kingdoms have in the last century retaken and rebuilt most of the ravaged lands. Only some remnants of the Cataclysms prowling the untamed wilds still pose a present danger, but they are within the range that can be handled by the Kingdoms."

She assumes he means stuff like high level Undead summoned by her dearly departed wayward student. She still feels rather complicated about that. At least it's clear that no one knows about it, else they certainly wouldn't celebrate her.

Even without all the Cataclysmic stuff, just the fact that she is an Archlich would probably be enough to see her lynched. Liches do make up a whole third of all Cataclysms after all. That's why they're so important in the Lore, and why she can't let anyone know her true nature.

Well, not that it is likely anyone will really be able to do much about it. Not unless they have the strength of a Divine difficulty Cataclysm.

"Other than that, there are some things you should likely be made aware of. One is the recent advancement of Rune technology. You might have seen the tracks cutting through the city? They carry a row of large carriages at incredibly high speed and have made interkingdom trade much more viable. Lastly, not long after Peace Day, the Enchantments that automated the bank globally stopped working. Luckily, the world was still united at the time, so no issues came from that. Just don't be surprised if you visit the bank and find it full of tellers instead of doing everything automatically."

Tsk. That's annoying. How confidential does she think it is? If there are actual tellers, then she probably won' be able to make a withdrawal without showing at least one person proof of her identity. And what are the odds that he thinks she's just trying to scam the bank of a Legendary Mage's fortune?

Annoying.

Ah well, money isn't hard to get with her abilities. She'll figure it out eventually. Visiting her home near the capital is the priority right now. Assuming that the capital is still near her home, and that her home is still standing.

God she hopes it is.

"Are there any other urgent questions that you have, Miss Kette?" Meeting his eyes, the simple answer is no.

There's most likely a bunch of common sense stuff that she hasn't internalised, but honestly that isn't too big of a deal really. She can always just lie if need be. It's been working out pretty well for her so far.

"Just one," she decides after a moment of thought. Anything else she can learn later, she has plenty of time. For now, she kind of wants to go to bed. It's been a long day. "When is this festival going to start?"

He smiles at her, clearly misunderstanding her intentions.

"Normally it would be a few days off, but as this is the centennial celebration, everyone is going all out for this once in a lifetime experience. The celebrations will begin tomorrow and last for a full week. I expect that it will be quite rowdy."

Having now heard all she needs to hear, Kierra pushes herself to her feet. "Thank you for consulting me," she says as she falls back down, landing comfortably on her now floating staff. She's going to get so lazy with Magic available to her. "But I only asked so I could avoid it. I'm not one for festivals. Goodbye."

Too many people, too many extroverts. She'd rather stay inside and play with Magic, especially now that it is actually real.

"Wait!"

Kierra is pulled from her already drifting thoughts when Lynsil calls out to her once more, forcing her to turn back around from where she was leaving in order to face him. He is still seated, she notes, looking down at him from her floating position.

"Yes?"

He's staring at her weirdly again.

It is only a moment after that thought passes through her mind that she realises that he is staring her in the eye. He was standing when she entered and sat with her, so he obviously couldn't see under her hat with the height difference. But now that he is seated and she is floating...

"Y-your eyes," he stutters, almost whispering.

Dang.

"Tattoos." The excuse is weak after the stupid speech she gave, but she sticks to it. "Out of respect for my friend. I'm an Elf."

He doesn't respond for a second, but then his shock fades away and transforms into a truly glowing smile.

"Of course, Miss Elf," he says, though she isn't sure he believes her. "It was truly an honour to meet you once again."

Well damn. She really shouldn't have said that dumb speech. Without that, it would have been a lot easier to play her eye markings off as a tribute of some sort, or cosplay. That would certainly be more believable than the truth.

At least in any situation where she hasn't given a fricking speech about what Kierra Kalashnikova would feel. Idiot.

"We've never met," is her cold reply. Not that it seems to bring him down at all. "I'm just a passing Elf."

"Of course. My apologies, that was my mistake." He definitely doesn't believe her.

Haah~. Well, whatever. She doesn't think she has to worry about him telling anyone, so it's really no biggie. He would have to be incredibly dense to have not gotten the hint to keep his mouth shut, and what kind of idiot would dare to cross the Legendary leader of the Party of Heroes?

Thus assured, Kierra spins on her staff and floats out of the room, feeling her mood immediately brighten when she uses Magic to fling the doors open without touching them.

Because Magic is cool like that.

Damien Lynsil

After another long day at work, Lynsil makes his way home with a skip in his step. Ever since his consultation with Lady Kette, his mood has not fallen. He feels as if he is once more an excitable child. Rearing to fight. To prove that he was something. That he existed.

Only... He does not need to fight to prove that, does he?

As long as he can pursue his own happiness, then he has already won. The acknowledgement of those that stand above him is irrelevant in the face of she who stands at the top.

Because—he opens the door to his home and is swiftly greeted by rapid staccato of feet slapping against the floor, and a moment later, his son crashes into his legs with a scream of "Papa!"

Hefting his child, little Kyrria, up and into his arms, Lynsil is then greeted by his beloved wife. An Elf that has treated him wonderfully even as he has aged passed her.

"You seem to be in a pleasant mood, Dear. Did something good happen?" She asks him as she greets him home with a chaste kiss.

He just smiles at her. Feeling all of his love for her overflow. It's a fight to keep the tears in, but he doesn't want to cry in front of his boy.

He's just...

"No," he answers after a long moment. Smiling softly as he embraces his family, content in the now certain knowledge that the life he has built is one to be proud of. "I just met a passing Elf."

Chapter 4: Cliché Problem

Making her way back to the Adventurer's Guild in the morning, Kierra watches the other early risers walking about below her as she floats overhead.

None of them are dressed like her friends, thankfully enough. Though that's probably more due to the early time of the day than anything. The centennial festival is supposed to start for real today after all.

She's decided that she might check out the first day or two before leaving. She's not really in a rush anyway. Well, not that much of a rush.

She has also discovered that sleep is likely more of a suggestion than a need for her. If her guess is right, then the only reason she was tired at all was because so much had happened the previous day.

So she only slept for a couple of hours before waking up while it was still dark. With some free time available to her, she spent the early hours of this morning setting up a Ritual in her rented room.

She doubts the inn she stayed the night in would be happy to know that a Witch was doing a Ritual in one of their rooms, but that's fine, because she didn't tell them. Also, it was nice to see that the inn she remembers from the game is still here, even with all the competition that has sprung up in the business.

As for why she is doing Dark Arts inside of a rented room, it's quite simple.

See, her previous thought was that she didn't need to bother with an illusion because no one would believe that she is Kierra Kalashnikova even if they saw her. Especially the Humans, who live such short lives.

However. Kierra was a Human not even a full day ago yet, so she was still thinking as one and didn't consider the fact that longer lived species may have seen her avatar before and might be able to recognise her.

Not just that, but she has also realised that if she goes with the lie that she is just dressing up as Kierra Kalashnikova, then people will probably make assumptions about her that she doesn't want to associate with. Like, what if someone tried to drag her to a look-a-like contest or something?

Plus, it just feels like it would feel demeaning to have people think of her as someone who would admire another to a high enough degree as to dress like them.

So perhaps it all comes down to ego in the end. Kierra firmly believes that one should be true to themselves and follow their own paths. People looking at her and assuming that she is trying to emulate someone else would probably annoy her.

She doesn't need to be anyone else. Nobody else is as good as her.

With that decided, she set up a [Change Form] Ritual. Not to be confused with [Shapeshift].

Shapeshifting is only possible as a Racial Skill, most notably for the Doppelgänger Race. [Change Form], however is pretty much a lesser imitation of that ability. Kierra is fairly sure that the Lore of the Ritual is something about a coven of Witches experimenting on a Doppelgänger in order to steal its ability so that they can take over a Kingdom or something.

She isn't certain though.

Kierra might be a veritable library of in-game Lore, but not even she can remember the Lore behind every single one of the thousands of Spells and Skills in her arsenal. Rituals are a bit easier to remember, since there aren't so many of them and the Lore is usually more interesting than Spells that are just 'Some dude wanted to shoot lightning like this, and then he figured out how to.'

Anyway, the Ritual works very similar to [Shapeshift]. The difference is that it is not 'True'.

A way to look at it is that a Doppelgänger's ability could modify their 'base state' into whatever they wanted, and their new form became their 'true form'. However, with [Change Form], it would be more accurate to say that she has layered a 'false form' over her 'true form'.

In layman's terms, the change isn't 'real'. Just a mask. Which means that holding the changed form for too long could get uncomfortable.

Technically, she knows of a Ritual that could actually use to change her form in truth, and she certainly wouldn't mind having the body of an adult. It's a Ritual that can only be done because she is a Lich. However, it requires a bunch of stuff that she doesn't have, so it's not something she can do right now.

She's not really concerned about Lynsil seeing her shifted face and calling her out on it. She doesn't even plan to see him again, but even if she does, he will probably keep quiet.

She basically just made her lie less of a lie. Small modifications so that it didn't feel uncomfortable.

Her body is entirely the same, her hair is still white, but she made her eyes purple, removed the Demon marks around her eyes and also removed the horns.

So now she looks like an Elf in truth, and Kette is an Elven name, so she can keep using that without an issue.

It is the name of her first account, but again, no one knows it, so that shouldn't be a problem. She probably should use a different name anyway, but frankly, she can't be bothered.

One problem she didn't foresee is that without her horns to hold it up, her hat keeps trying to swallow up her head. She's had to enchant it to effectively hover in place as if it is being worn properly.

The Adventurer's Guild is surprisingly busy when she arrives, considering the amount of people walking about elsewhere.

As Kierra flies down to the front door, she hops off of her staff and smoothly transitions to walking inside, catching her staff in her hand.

It feels kind of weird to just not walk anywhere at all.

She still attracts plenty of eyes as she walks to the counter, but more people move on from looking at her now that she's been here before.

Seeing Lisa up and working and free, Kierra makes a beeline for her. It'll save her the effort of explaining her lie again.

"Ah! Miss Witch! Up early this morning?" Lisa greets, far too cheerfully. At least, her smile seems a bit more genuine this time compared to the classic customer service one yesterday.

Naturally, she doesn't notice the [Change Form], since only Lynsil has seen under her hat in the first place. Especially since she's standing right now, so she's even lower down.

"Hm. I have some more questions. And you can call me Kette if you want." Kierra gets straight to the point, not really knowing how to answer Lisa's question without being very sarcastic.

"Of course! Kette! Mr Lynsil is not in today, but shall I fetch someone else for another consultation?"

"No. I only have three questions, you should be able to answer them fine."

"If that's the case, then shoot! I don't know what you talked about, confidentiality and all, but Mr Lynsil seemed really happy after your talk, so I'd be happy to answer any questions you have, Kette."

Kierra decides to just pretend that that display of gratitude doesn't exist and asks what she needs to know.

"Do you have to be an Adventurer to accept Quests?" Her understanding is that the Adventurer's Guild is like a middleman. Someone wants something done, they send the details to the Guild and the Guild finds someone to do it.

Unlike other Guilds like Kierra's own, the Adventurer's Guild is sponsored collectively by the various Kingdoms of the world and is a politically neutral entity. Thus, it shouldn't be able to act like a private company and do what it wants, especially if doing so gets in the way of a client's job getting done.

"Well, no, not really," Lisa says, confirming Kierra's thoughts. "However, for a non-Adventurer to take a Quest from us, there are two things to keep in mind. The first is that the Guild will take a 25% tax on all Quest earnings made by non-affiliates. The second is that you won't be allowed to accept a Quest without proving that you have the sufficient level of strength that has been assigned to the Quest. Since you have demonstrated use of the [Fly] Spell, a 7th Tier Spell, you could accept Quests up to Platinum, which is very impressive by the way. I don't even know if we have any higher level Quests right now, but if you wanted to take one, you would have to provide some manner of evidence of your strength."

Yeah, that's all very reasonable actually. The tax is a bit high, but honestly she thinks its fair. The rest is more or less as.. she.... Huh?

Wait a minute. What does she mean 7th Tier is up to Platinum? Assuming that they're using the same ranking system as the currency, then it should go Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum, Orichalcum and finally Celestium. Celestium is so rare as to basically be non-existent, even to Kierra, who barely has any, so she can ignore that one.

But without that, that would make Platinum the second highest rank. Tier 7 Spells encompass Spells between levels 601 and 700. That is way too low to be the second highest rank.

Her second question hasn't changed, but Kierra feels a tad more urgent to ask it. Not that her avatar shows as much.

"How do the Adventurer ranks work?" The question likely would have drawn attention in any other situation, but Lisa is already 'aware' that Kierra is out of the loop, so she's more likely to just take it as her checking to see if anything has changed.

"It's quite simple, Kette!" She's really getting liberal with the use of her name now that she knows it. "Adventurer ranks start at Bronze and rise in order as Silver, Gold, Platinum, Orichalcum and then Titled. Technically Titled isn't a rank, per say. They're still Orichalcum on paper, but I'll get to that in a moment."

Presumably, these 'Titled' are Orichalcums impressive enough to get a Title. She doesn't really feel like that's a perfect explanation though, since some Titles are really easy to get. Like, Job Titles exist too y'know?

"As for how one advances through the ranks, it is a matter of ability and merit," Lisa continues. "To rise to Gold and beyond one needs to have a certain level of merit with the Guild, I'll be happy to share the details if you want, but I get the feeling that it won't matter to you."

An astute observation. Kierra nods. She isn't going to join anyway, so it doesn't matter.

"In regards to strength, I am sure you are familiar with the five level-tribulations," Kierra has no idea what that is, "The ranks basically follow them. Adventurers in Bronze rank are between levels 1 and 300. Silver are 301 to 500. Gold, 501 to 600 and so on and so forth. Titled are those few Orichalcum that manage to surpass level 1000. I'm pretty sure the idea of making a new rank for them is floating around with the higher-ups, but an Adventurer's badge is made out of the material of their rank, and Celestium is way too rare for that to be feasible. I think I heard about some researchers trying to make an alternative Orichalcum to use for a new rank, but I dunno."

Lisa ends with a shrug, while Kierra takes a moment to digest this information. She assumes that the 'so on and so forth' means that Platinum encompasses levels 601 to 900, while Orichalcum would be 901 to 1000. If you do count Titled as it's own rank anyway.

Which would make those 'level-tribulation' things just the Class and Race advancements. Classes advance every 300 levels and Races every 500. Race advancements are naturally a bigger deal, but level 1500 should be the true cut-off point, because you advance Class and Race at the same time.

Seriously, the difference between a level 1500 and a level 1501 is actually night and day.

But anyway, having Orichalcum Adventurers basically walking around with an Orichalcum coin pinned to their chest seems a little overboard. Unless you count it as a signing bonus? Then maybe. It is a Guild after all.

The bit about Celestium makes sense though. Kierra was stupidly rich in the game, she had over a hundred million Gold last she checked. But even with all of that, she had maybe thirty thousand Orichalcum and only exactly 189 Celestium coins.

The only one with more Celestium than her was her friend Yeveline, and that's just because she was an Elf from one of the few places in the world capable of producing Celestium.

It's not like Kierra is the only one with cool Lore. Her Party is Legendary for a reason.

But yeah, using Celestium to make badges would be an absurd waste even to Kierra. She doesn't get why they can't just make an Enchanted Orichalcum rank or something. Hell, they could make an Enchanted version of every rank to show who stands at the top of it.

Eh, not her problem.

What's more important is that people are apparently being revered just for surpassing level 1000. That's way too weak, is there even going to be anyone she can fight properly?

She can think of a few ancient immortals that should stand at the peak of the world. But it'd suck if the only people she could enjoy a fight with were those few that shared the Title of [Ancient One] with her.

How depressing~. What's even the point of existing if you can't cast [Fireball] into someone's face?

"You had another question?" Lisa prompts when Kierra doesn't respond.

Right. She brushes her useless thoughts away to focus on paying attention to the most pertinent of the three questions.

"Does the Kingdom of Laptalia still have its Capital in the same place as it was 200 years ago?"

The Capital city hadn't moved since the founding of the Kingdom, so she could have given any time frame really. But since she isn't sure how then when and where works when translating the game she played into reality, she figures she should probably give a date before the Third Calamity showed up.

Her house was only a short walk from the Capital, so the information is pretty relevant about where she is heading.

"Ehhh," Lisa tilts a hand side to side, which is not promising. "Kinda? The Capital was wiped out during the Age of Blood, but it was rebuilt around the Palace of Forbidden Magic, y'know, the home of the Legendary Mage Kierra Kalashnikova. It was right next to the former Capital, so if you're looking to travel there, it's more or less in the same place."

....Je ne sais quoi? Que? Nande?!?

What do you mean they rebuilt the capital around my house??? I swear to God, if some stupid King of Laptalia dared to plunder my house and take my stuff, then I will show them why so many of my Titles talk of Ruin and Catastrophe.

"...Hm." She's actually impressed at her avatar's ability to remain aloof no matter the emotions inside of her.

Like any gamer, Kierra is a hoarder. If it was just a couple sets of equipment, she wouldn't mind. Even if the bank closed her account and took all her money away, she would at most think of it as little more than an annoying inconvenience. She wouldn't mind it too much.

But so help her God, when she returns back to her house, her vaults had better not be empty.

"Anything else?" Lisa asks, and she shakes her head. Taking a moment to calm herself of unproductive emotions before responding.

She will continue with the assumption that no one has taken any of her stuff and save any thoughts of reprisals for only after seeing if said assumption are wrong.

"No. Thank you."

Conversation over, Kierra turns around to start heading for the Quest board, ignoring Lisa's cheerful goodbye. Since she might be staying for a day or two, she might as well see if there are any Quests for hunting some powerful monster or something.

As she walks to the Quest board, Kierra finds her eyes being drawn in a very specific direction.

There is a girl staring at her. Maybe in the former half of her teens, short orange hair and blue-green eyes that almost seem to glow.

The girl isn't the only one staring at her, likely with the belief that she won't notice their eyes on account of her hat being in the way. She isn't anything special to look at either. Cute, but in that way kids are that makes you want to pat their head and praise them, but not exactly strong.

The kid does have what Kierra thinks is an impressive aura of mana for their age, but she still isn't certain about translating game knowledge into reality. But by all means, there is nothing about the girl that should attract her attention.

Except that she has been staring at Kierra with almost open-mouthed shock ever since she walked in and has not stopped. For some reason, this kid's stare is just unnecessarily intense. Way more than everyone else.

Enough to get her attention.

Kierra feels like there's something going on with the kid. Some instinct within her. Kierra Kalashnikova's instinct, she realises after a moment of thought. She just isn't certain what her body has noticed just yet.

"Excuse me!" A cheerful voice interrupts Kierra's pondering, and she looks away from the kid to meet the eyes of the young woman blocking her path. Not that they can see her eyes in turn.

"Yes?"

"My name's Mary, Silver ranked Ranger! I noticed that you don't seem to have a Party, and since you're going to the Quest board, I assume you wanna make some quick money before the festival starts, right? As it happens, my Party is the same, but our Mage got super drunk last night and has a hangover, so we're looking for a Mage to fill in for him. You interested?"

"No. You're too weak."

Stepping around the frozen woman, Kierra continues her walk to the Quest board, internally musing on all the annoying memories of the occasional stupid NPC trying to give her trashy Quests as if she wasn't one of the most powerful people around.

At least Free World Online wasn't as bad about it as some games. Most NPCs would learn as the game went on, and generally they could recognise if a Player was too high level for their dumb fetch Quests. It wasn't like those games where you could be Godkiller King Awesome, Ruler of the Universe and still have some random dude yelling at you to fetch their shopping for three silver.

Shaking the useless thoughts away, Kierra reaches the board and looks through the Quests, trying her best to ignore the prickling feel of a certain pair of eyes drilling into her.

Boring, boring, lame, boring, ew gross, boring, how lazy do you have to be to make that a Quest? Boring, boring, holy moly that's way too far to go for a proposal gift, boring, cheapskate, ew an escort Quest, boring, boring, okay this sucks.

Most of them are just 'Go here, collect that', followed in number by 'Kill this thing' and then 'Patrol here'. Shouldn't patrols be left to the city guard? Seems kind of silly to outsource that kind of work.

The problem is that none of the fetch Quests are for anything rare and none of the monsters mentioned are strong.

She eyes one Quest.

[Quest: Slay the Mutated Arctic Owlbear in the Sharpwind Forest.]

[Req. minimum level: Platinum]

It's one of two Platinum level Quests, and the other is the escort one, which she will never take, because escort Quests are the worst.

To be honest, she isn't really interested in fighting the Owlbear. It should only be around level 800 tops if it's mutated. They're normally on the lower end of the 700s. However, Owlbears are super cute, and she wants to pet one in real life.

Glancing about the board, she doesn't see any pins with tiny bits of ripped paper on them, so she assumes that you're not supposed to rip the quests off when you accepts them.

With that in mind, she simply turns around to the exit. However, before leaving she decides to throw a [Mark of Muninn] on the girl with the glowing eyes.

Most likely, nothing will come of it. But Kierra can't shake the feeling that there's something about that girl, so better safe than sorry and all that.

The Spell is basically a more advanced version of [Watcher's Mark], which itself was the more advanced version of [Tracking Beacon]. As the name implies, the Spell will let her view the target of the mark whenever she wants, no matter the distance.

What makes her version of the Spell different is that it is semi-sentient. Not enough to think, but enough to pull at her attention if the mark thinks it is seeing anything that might interest her. Such as if the object marked were to be in danger.

Because of this, she doesn't need to bother checking the mark periodically and can just put that girl out of her mind and focusing on finding a cute Owlbear to play with.

A/N: I'm sure we all see where this is going lmao.

"Hey, you okay Flamelle?"

The girl in question startles slightly when the owner of the voice, a young Cleric called Markus, nudges her shoulder.

"Ah, yeah, I'm fine," Flamelle responds with a smile, brushing some of her orange hair out of the way of her eyes as she turns back to the track ahead of them. "Just thinking about something."

Flamelle was still thinking about that Witch she saw in the Guild, even though it's been a few hours since then. But with Markus' reminder, she shakes the thoughts away to focus on the present.

She only arrived in Laptilla recently, and seeing as she came here right after getting kicked out of the Institute, it's not like she has a party to Quest with. Normally she would be fine with that, but this far North is too dangerous for her to be wandering the wilds alone. That's why she came here in the first place.

Well, it's part of the reason. She wanted to use the harsh environment to force herself to be better. But admittedly, the other half of her rationale is simply that Laptilla is about as far as she can get from the Institute.

So when she was approached to fill in for a Mage, she naturally accepted. She kind of needs the money right now anyway as she's flat broke.

The party she joined is a pretty standard one. Two Warriors, a Cleric, a Rogue, a Ranger and now her, the Mage. Her brief study at the Institute taught her that this kind of party composition only became commonplace in mimicry of the Hero's Party.

Some of them were a little bit leery of her age despite the fact that she is Silver ranked like they all are, which was annoying. But they changed their tune when she informed them that she is a former Red Robe. Well, half a former Red Robe.

Technically she got kicked out of the Red Institute before she could finish her initiate training, but so what? She didn't get kicked out because of her ability as a Mage. She got kicked out because she's just a poor little commoner that dared to surpass some uppity noble brat.

Once she proved that she could even cast a [Fireball] despite only being level 327, none of them continued to object to her joining. [Fireball] is a 5th Tier Spell after all. That makes it something that she should need to be in the 400s to be able to learn.

She can even cast a 6th Tier Spell, but that is a Gold level Spell, so she can only cast it after channelling it for far too long to be useful in a fight, so she didn't mention it.

Right now, they are a good way out from the city, looking for some Glacial Roses for their Quest.

The two Warriors are taking point with her, Markus and the Ranger behind while the Rogue scouts ahead. They've faced a few monsters so far, but should be near where the flower grows, which is nice, because it's very cold.

Only one thing keeps bothering Flamelle though, and she finds her eyes flicking to the Ranger walking besides her as she thinks of it.

She doesn't know what it is exactly about them that has her so on edge, but Flamelle just feels like there is something off about the otherwise friendly Ranger.

Apparently noticing her gaze, the Ranger, a female Beastman of the feline variety called Mox, turns to her with a raised brow.

"Need something, Spitfire?" They cheerily ask, smiling a friendly smile that Flamelle just can't bring herself to believe. She also chooses to ignore the nickname she got after showing off her [Fireball].

"You're just filling in like me, right?" Flamelle asks, wanting to see if she can figure out why she can't seem to trust Mox. "Do you have a regular party?"

Apparently, this party's Ranger decided to join their Mage instead of participating in the Questing. Flamelle doesn't know the story of why, but apparently they suddenly got really demotivated, so they had to find a Ranger to fill in as well as a Mage.

"Sure do!" Mox happily answers. "They all got hammered though, so they're too hungover to Quest, and someone's gotta pay the bills nya? So here I am~. What about you, Spitfire?"

Despite Mox being incredibly friendly, Flamelle really just can't trust it at all. The more they talk, the worse her feeling gets. She tries not to let it show on her face.

"No. I prefer to go through life at my own pace."

Their conversation is brought to a halt when an eagle swoops down through the snow weighted branches above. Mox's arm snaps up and the eagle lands on her forearm a moment later.

"Finally," Mox mutters with a sigh as she pets her pet and sends it flying back away.

Flamelle's bad feeling suddenly amplifies into a sharp instinct of danger that reminds her of how she felt facing against her instructor at the Institute.

What?!

However, before Flamelle can do anything to follow her instincts, her breath is forced from her lungs when a powerful blow impacts her.

Following the arm digging into her stomach up to its source, she sees Mox looking down at her, face devoid of any warmth it once pretended to hold.

"Wha-!" She hears Markus's voice get cut off, though she doesn't see exactly what happened as she collapses to the ground instead, fighting the urge to curl into a ball at the stinging pain in her gut.

Flamelle barely manages to look up in time to see a group of men appear from the forest and immediately take down her entire party without even a hint of struggle.

Gold. They must be. Her thoughts panic her even as she has them, but she can't deny it. Taking down a party of Adventurers so quickly wouldn't be possible if they were in the same Tier of strength. Even then, doing it this quickly... Could they be Platinum!?

Markus' face appears in her vision, slamming into the ground right in front of her with Mox's leather boot pushing him down.

Flamelle feels indignant at the treatment the kind Cleric is enduring, but she knows there is nothing she can do about it. One of the things at the Institute they teach is patience. A Mage's greatest weakness is the time it take to actually cast their Spells.

Flamelle knows that even if a [Fireball] cast by someone at her level would probably do some damage to a Gold, there's no way they wouldn't notice her preparing it and interrupt.

"What're you glaring at, Spitfire?" Mox asks her, crouching down with one foot still on Markus' head as she grins mockingly down at her.

Flamelle doesn't say anything. She just glares at the older woman.

"Not gonna share~?" Mox's voice is as mocking as her smile. But at least, it no longer feels fake to her. She wishes that was a good thing. "Awe, c'mon~. Are you only ever gonna glare? I swear," she takes the time to shake her head theatrically, "You've been glaring at me this whole time, surely you've got something to say, nya?"

Flamelle's eyes widen unconsciously at the realisation that she was caught. She should have jut trusted her gut from the start. Damnit.

"Yeah, I noticed. Tell me, what gave it away? I'm always looking to improve my craft y'know? Now now, don't be like that~. I'd be willing to grant some mercies in exchange for-"

"Oy Mox!" One of the strangers' voice calls out, sounding annoyed. "Stop chatting and tie 'em up already."

Mox exaggeratedly rolls her eyes. "Yeah yeah, get off my tail."

Despite sounding irreverent, Mox does as she's told and starts tying them together.

Markus tries to resist her and gets another solid punch to the gut that has tears forming in his eyes. Flamelle doesn't bother to try, something that Mox makes sure to let her know she is disappointed by.

But Flamelle isn't stupid. This situation is bad for sure, but they are capturing them, so she shouldn't be in any immediate danger of death. Most likely, and as much as the thought does terrify her, but most likely they are just slavers. Which is obviously very very bad, but Flamelle still has her 6th Tier Spell that Mox doesn't know about.

If she can wait for the right moment, she might be able to free herself. Trying to act now will just get her beaten. What she should do instead is gather information, so she tries to focus on their conversation.

"-should I care?" She tunes in on one of the newcomers saying. There are four of them in total, including Mox. "The rest can go for standard rates, but you know The Cult loves getting little Clerics like this guy, we should be able to get triple up here."

"Tch, I hate dealing with The Cult, they're so damn creepy."

"No shit, it's a Cult."

Flamelle's blood feels like ice in her veins as her eyes fall on Markus, who is now thrashing even more despite the pain at the mention of The Cult, pale as the snow surrounding them. Their captor's don't seem to like that and hit him hard enough to knock him unconscious.

She can't blame him for struggling though. The Cult is terrifying, especially for Clerics. She has only heard horror stories, and as callous as it might be to think, and as much as she hates that she could even have the thought, but.. Flamelle is just glad that she isn't the Cleric of the party.

And then Mox joins the conversation.

"If we're going to The Cult anyway, this brat is a former Red Robe."

All thought flees her mind at the feline woman's words and the way the rest of their eyes fall on her.

"Shame, she's cute," one of them comments, making disgust well up within her.

"Ain't you gonna panic like him, Lass?" Another says, looking between her and Markus' slumped form with visible amusement.

She can only grit her teeth and glare at them all.

She briefly considers trying to use the Red Institute's name to intimidate them off. But this far north? With a group that is at least Gold level and already dealing with The Cult?

What would even be the point?

"I like her," Mox comments, winking in her direction.

"Whatever," one of the others, who Flamelle pegs as the leader by the way the others listen to him. "Let's just grab 'em and go. I'm freezing my balls of."

The whole thing is so rote to them that is strikes her for a moment. Like this isn't even anything special to them. Just another day clocking in at work.

How may people have they done this to?

This level of confidence implies a certain degree of experience. Experience implies that they know how to avoid being caught. That implies that her odds of getting a chance to escape are likely to be low.

Is this really how it's going to go? This is where everything in my life has led to? To becoming another horror story for The Cult?

As one of the men summons a board of light—a Mage then—to load them on, Flamelle feels the telling sting of tears threatening to form, no matter how hard she fights them off.

"Before you go," a new voice fills the clearing. Calm, feminine, bored. Almost condescending in tone. "I have a question."

Everyone's eyes snap to the source of the sound together, even if Flamelle has to twist awkwardly in her bindings to do so.

That Witch, she thinks, wide eyes in surprise.

There, seated high above on a branch, legs crossed in front of her and resting on her floating staff, is the Witch Flamelle saw in the Guild.

With how high she is seated, Flamelle can actually see under the giant hat at her face. The Witch is beautiful, is the first thing she notices, it would be impossible not to. She is an Elf, going by the ears. Purple eyes, white hair.

But more importantly than any of that is what attracted Flamelle's attention in the first place. The aura, large enough to drown all nine of them. She doesn't know how the Witch got so close without her noticing it.

Concealment? Teleportation? Just how strong is this Witch? Why is she here?

Flamelle doesn't have any answers, but meeting those aloof purple eyes, Flamelle feels hope.

Chapter 5: Cliché Solution

"Ew, what the hell are you?"

The supposed Owlbear roars at her, apparently not happy with her instinctive greeting.

Kierra feels like it's justified though. She came here expecting a cute little Owlbear she could play around with, maybe even domesticate.

But she supposes that she underestimated just how mutated it was.

For one, it's covered in tiny tentacles, which is not fun in any way. But there are also a bunch of eyes everywhere, it has an odd number of limbs, two and a half mouths and is dripping way too much black blood to be healthy.

Kierra floats above the mutated beast and watches as it rages at her, unable to do anything to a target that can fly.

"I feel like the Quest should have specified that you were one of That Guy's spawn. Or at least related to it in some way." Kierra's normally aloof avatar frowns, squinting to glare down at the beast in disgust. "Tsk. You really shouldn't exist in this world. [Jacob's Ladder]."

The heaven's above split as a ray of golden light pierces the clouds and falls upon the beast like the hammer of God, instantly erasing it down to the atomic level. As well as everything else in a 100 metre radius.

Looking down at the remaining crater, Kierra muses that perhaps it was overkill to use a 16th Tier Spell on a beast half that in level.

She just really hates the madman that caused all that Lovecraftian crap to exist in her game. Cataclysm number eight.

Sighing at the unpleasant memories, Kierra decides that since she is here, she might as well look around for any more Corruption to destroy. Maybe see if she can find an Owlbear to play with since they're apparently in the area.

It's nearly two hours later, long after she got rid of the Corrupted corpse buried deep in some cave that was likely the cause of the Owlbear's mutation, that she gets the feeling that something has happened.

"Something has happened," she happens to think by happenstance as it happens that something has happened to have happened.

It only takes her a moment to track the source of the feeling to her [Mark of Muninn] and, curious, she takes a peek to see what's going on and immediately lets out a resigned sigh.

"Crime will continue to exist in any world. Well, I'm done here anyway."

Kierra isn't someone to go out of her way to help people for no reason. But it's difficult to ignore what looks like a violent kidnapping when it is real instead of a game. Especially when she's not even busy with anything right now.

"[Perfect Unknowable] [Greater Teleportation]."

Between one moment and the next, Kierra finds herself floating above the scene of the crime just in time to watch the Cleric guy get knocked down next to the girl she marked.

Kierra decides against interfering directly and takes a moment to observe. No one seems to be in any immediate danger anyway.

She manages to hear some interesting terms being used through the conversation. Of most interest being 'Red Robe' and 'The Cult'. The former two words were given enough emphasis to imply that it's some kind of important Title. The latter however, was prefixed with what could have only been a capitalised 'The'.

Which means that it is the preeminent, or perhaps sole Cult in the Kingdom. That interests Kierra very much. She loves Cults, they're the best. Unless they worship Corruption, then they can go die.

After all, successful Cults are always full of loot! Cults don't care about wealth after all, not the real Cults anyway. To them, wealth is just a means to an end. Everything is. Which means they usually have a vault full of stuff they have collected with religious fervour, all in the name of summoning their God or whatever crap.

But what really pulls her attention is when the group's Mage summons a board of light, ostensibly to carry the captives.

Why does what she can only estimate as a 2nd Tier Spell interest her so?

Simple.

Because she has not seen that Spell before.

And that? That is exciting.

So she dispels her [Perfect Unknowable] before they can scurry off like the little worms they are.

"Before you go, I have a question."

All eyes fall on her, but she just settles on looking at Mox. Entirely because she's a hot catgirl. The rest are all just muscly men. Eyyyuck.

None of them respond right away, and Kierra is honestly surprised that she didn't immediately get attacked. Kierra would have, in their situation.

"Please help u-!" One of the downed men tries to call out, breaking the silence.

However, he is quickly silenced by the bandit Mage, and Kierra watches with great interest as to how he does so.

"[Silence]!" The Mage incants, summoning forth the necessary Spell circle.

Now, Kierra is naturally good at judging how strong someone is. If she is facing a Warrior or a Rogue or whatever, then she can only make a rough estimate. But for a Mage?

She is The Mage. The moment his Spell circle finished forming, she knew exactly what his level was.

It's so clear to her, to Kierra Kalashnikova. It's in the speed that he draws the runes, the light of the circle, the excess mana falling out from his lack of efficiency, the speed that it spread, the amount that casting it reduced his mana. All these factors and dozens more all coalescing together with crystal clarity in her mind. So certain it almost feels foreign.

643. Second Tier Class, basic Race, elemental focus on Wind, terrible affinity with Space.

Some of the runes used in the [Silence] Spell are also used in other Spells, as is typically the case since it's a language. With Kierra's insane stats and experience, she is able to pick out which runes were drawn faster than the others and determine even where his speciality and talents lay.

He's not very talented, is her sad conclusion.

Seeing her not reacting to the captive's plea, the rest relax minutely, though they are still tense.

Kierra is curious to see the eyes of the three men fall on the catgirl, since she just assumed that the biggest dude was the leader. Or maybe she's just their 'negotiator'.

"I'm always happy to help out," the catgirl says, and it honestly takes Kierra a second to even realise that they're responding to her earlier question. She assumed they would just attack her. "What do you want to know?"

Hmm. Strange. Kierra's brow would furrow if her avatar wasn't so inexpressive. I know they aren't just lines of code anymore, if they ever even were, but surely interrupting something like this should be enough by itself to draw aggro, right? Since when did bandits negotiate?

However, a moment later she notices how their eyes rake over her body, or more specifically, her equipment. With that, she figures it out.

Just from looking at her, she is obviously incredibly wealthy. Her clothes are Highest-Tier equips, their quality is literally beyond mortal ken. Combine that with the fact that she interrupted this whole thing without concern and without them noticing her approach, and it becomes impossible to just assume she's only rich and not also powerful.

They're surprisingly cautious.

"Two things," Kierra answers. She waits a second to see if she will be called out on how she said she only has 'a' question earlier. None of them say anything. "First, you, Mage. Show me that Spell again, I have not seen that Magic before."

There are some confused looks shared between them, but then the one she assumed to be the leader speaks up. She doesn't miss how his gimlet eyes never leave her.

"She's an Elf," he explains to the Mage without looking back. "That Spell was only invented, what, 80 years ago? She probably slept through it."

Hah, he's got a sense of humour.

That kind of sucks actually. It humanises him.

Bandits shouldn't be humanised.

"Ah. Okay. Here, [Magic Cart]."

The Spell circle forms in less than 2 seconds, which considering his level, tells her that it is a 2nd Tier Spell.

"Hold it," she orders when she notices him about to dispel the Spell. Her tone makes them all tense all the way back up again, but she ignores that.

Her hand stretches out to the side, so as to not alarm them, though they are very clearly still ready to act.

Studying the Spell circle intently, Kierra begins trying to replicate it, manipulating her mana exactly as she sees in his circle. Well, not exactly. Her mind keeps informing her of changes, minor alterations that she seems to instinctively understand will improve the Spell.

All said, it takes roughly seven seconds for her to be done.

"[Magic Cart]," she intones, causing the circle she crafted to flash and create a shining board of soft blue light.

It is visibly smoother than the other one in the area, but that doesn't seem to surprise anyone.

"Next question," Kierra moves on, dispelling the cart and sucking the little mana used back up. "Tell me about this Cult you mentioned."

That isn't a question, but again, no one seems to be willing to point that out.

"I don't know much," the catgirl starts, clearly trying to distance herself from The Cult first. Luckily for her, Kierra doesn't think it's a lie. "All I know is that they really hate the Church. No one knows why, but they love collecting and disappearing Clerics of the Church and talented Mages. I don't know what they do with them or what their goal is, I just need the money and don't ask questions."

Kierra almost snorts at the blatant attempt at garnering sympathy.

The catgirl shivers down to her tail because, unfortunately for her, Kierra's avatar's aloofness does not stop her from smiling.

She designed this character from the ground up, and one important part of the 'overpowered-immortal-mage-that-looks-like-a-small-girl' aesthetic is the condescending smile.

"Shame. If you had more useful information, I might have felt motivated to be kinder to you."

Catgirl's eyes narrow to slits. "So, I suppose we can't be like ships in the night, then?"

"Did you ever think leaving was an option?" Kierra asks, genuinely curious.

A second later, they all have their attention grabbed by one of the thugs when he abruptly screams out in pain and collapses, blood pouring out of every orifice on his head.

Interesting tactic. She won't be trying it herself, but it is certainly novel.

"Nix! What did you do!?"

Ara~, there seems to be some fear in them, now.

Kierra slowly raises her hands in a 'who knows' gesture.

She felt one of her defences trigger right before he collapsed, so she is fairly certain that he tried to teleport behind her. Presumably one of the Rogue Class' many backstab Skills.

"Who can say~? Clearly it didn't work out too well for him though, whatever he was trying. Perhaps you should surrender?"

The bandits all grit their teeth, but after sharing a glance seem to come to a decision and attack her directly.

The big guy rushes at her with a greatsword, the catgirl hops backwards while pulling out a bow and knocking an arrow while the Mage begins casting a Spell. She also notices a bird divebombing her way.

They're all so slow.

Even if she's a Mage with stats skewed heavily towards INT, she out-levels them so badly it's not even funny. Her Physical stats are probably still higher than theirs. She is three Race advancements ahead of these level 600s weaklings.

Kierra hops down from her branch and lands with a soft crunch just in time for the catgirl's arrow to ping off of her Passive anti-projectile barrier.

[Force Push]

The Tier 4 Spell hits the charging brute like an invisible sledgehammer and with the sound of a gun going off as he disappears from his position. Literally turning into a blur barely visible to a normal person's eye, the man is launched through at least three trees and off into the distance.

Turning her attention on to the Mage next, Kierra sees what she believes to be a [Vacuum Blade] Spell nearing completion.

Another arrow pings off of her Passive as Kierra casually sends a tether of her own mana into the Mage's Spell circle and completely rewrites the formulae in a fraction of a second before forcing its activation.

The Mage cries out in disbelief as his own mana forms a [Bind Person] Spell and immediately locks his limbs in place.

Peering off to the side, Kierra notices that the catgirl has done the smart thing and chosen to flee. Unfortunately for her, running away isn't really an option for her. Not like the tamed bird that ran away the moment it got close enough to recognise her strength. She doesn't feel the need to chase a bird down.

"[Blink]." Kierra appears directly in front of the catgirl floating at eye level. "Hey. Do you surrender?"

The catgirl freezes in place with her instinctively swung knife pressed against Kierra's exposed neck. There's a moment of silence where the girl stares with wide eyes at the point of contact. Kierra feels like she might as well explain.

"I have a Passive called [Low-Level Damage Immunity]. It negates all damage I take below a certain threshold. Kind of useless most of the time really, since nothing that weak is going to be dangerous anyway, but it can be situationally useful against certain DoT effects."

The catgirl slumps, her knife falling from a lax grip.

"We never even stood a chance, did we?" I don't even dignify that with an answer. "Heh. You're a Titled, aren't you? What horrid luck."

"Could be worse," Kierra says while holding out a hand which the woman obediently takes, her tail drooping low. "I'm not a sadist, after all. [Blink]."

They reappear silently inside the clearing, though the silence is soon broken by a couple of the bound fellows wriggling violently. She decides against removing the [Silence] Spell for now to spare herself the shouting.

Seeing that there's only one person missing, Kierra turns back to the catgirl and points near her friends.

"Sit."

The woman obediently scampers to do as told, her ears and tail drooping in such a way that makes Kierra feel slightly guilty. She has always been more of a cat person than a dog one. Dogs have too much energy for her.

"[Blink]."

She appears in front of the presumed leader, who was also running away.

He naturally swings at her on instinct, but he's not a hot catgirl so she doesn't even allow him that much leeway.

"[Phantom Weapon]," she incants just as his sword is about to hit her, causing the blade to swing through her as if it is an illusion. Enchanting your opponent's weapons is a tactic that stops being usable around level 900, or against anyone with already Enchanted equipment.

It's fun though. Really funny. Great at making people mad in PvP too.

"[Velocity Lock]," she says as his freshly Enchanted sword exits her from the opposite side of her that it entered. "[Raise Earth]."

The former Spell prevents him from slowing his swing down at all, which causes him to start spinning in a circle like a cartoon character. Which is when the latter Spell brings a chunk of the earth up a couple of inches, perfect for him to trip over.

Maybe she lied a little bit about not being sadistic.

Letting him finish tumbling to the ground, Kierra gets bored and decides against letting him think he might still have a chance. "[Bind Person]."

He immediately goes stock still, so she connects a tether of mana to him.

[Blink]

The world blinks once more, leaving her standing above nine fellows.

That girl is staring at her again.

The thought hits Kierra out of nowhere, bringing her eyes back down to the blue-green of that orange haired girl.

It shouldn't be something that garners any special attention from her. Literally everyone here that is not unconscious is staring at her. It's not surprising with everything that just happened.

And yet, there is something about this girl's attention that feels different.

Curious indeed.

"Cat." The catgirl bandit straightens her spine in an instant, staring up at Kierra with total submission. It's a really good thing that Kierra isn't a horrible person, otherwise she would definitely do something horrible right now.

Instead, she just gestures to her unconscious and magically bound friends. "Collect your friends in a pile and sit on top of it."

She gets to work right away. Clearly she is someone with a very simple worldview.

'Follow the strong'.

Kierra isn't sure how she feels about that ethos, but Lore-wise it's most prevalent among the Demon Race, followed closely by the Beastmen. The difference being that there have been a bunch of civil wars among the Beastmen about it between factions that want to follow that ethos and those that want to be civilised instead.

That isn't to say that there isn't the same divide among Demon kind, but that's a more complicated situation from an outside perspective. Demons aren't human after all. They may look similar, but they aren't. So trying to understand their culture with a Human brain can be pretty tough.

Shaking away the useless thought, Kierra turns back to the victims here.

"I'm going to release you now. I was just passing through so I don't want anything from you, and you're all poor and weak so please don't offer to insist on paying me back. You cannot afford to."

Kierra remembers that girl at the Guild trying to rope her into some classic, old fashioned isekai adventure. Probably would have ended up with her coming into some manner of conflict with some manner of corrupt noble who probably has some manner of involvement with the slave trade.

Thus resulting in Kierra having to go to war against a ring of slave traders, either ending up having to make some difficult choice, or with a happy ending surrounded by busty women that are so happy to be freed from slavery that they willingly choose to be her totally-not-a-slave wives.

Yeah, hard pass on that, thanks.

Kierra stopped consuming non-FWO media around when she started playing the game—except for when it was updating—but she did read a few manga and stuff in school.

So she just knows that if she did not say anything, one of these people would end up insisting that she spend the night at their home, no doubt after somehow finding out that she is staying at an inn. Then she would have to taste their spouse's homemade special something or other that will somehow be better than trained professionals, despite that really not making sense if you think about it.

Then said spouse would end up revealing some terrible past, probably involving an illness that will kill them in anywhere from the next day to five years down the line. Kierra would naturally then cure them, thus somehow resulting in the Church hearing about her and some hot-headed, far too assertive firecracker initiate hunting her down to either demand she submit to the Church or to beg relentlessly for teachings.

Going by how the party of victims all gathered themselves up with only some subdued words of thanks, Kierra thinks that her plan has worked out pretty well at curbing any such adventures before they can begin.

"U-um. Honoured Lady Witch?" Surprisingly, it's the cat that breaks the silence.

"Yes?" Kierra looks over to see the three unmoving bandits piled one on top of two like a triangle, with the cat sitting on top of the top one with her hand against his neck.

"I, um. I think you killed Rack."

What kind of a name is Rack?

"Ok."

The cat blinks at her before returning to subdued silence after a moment, visibly disappointed.

What, was she supposed to freak out and feel overly empathetic grief or something? Dude was literally just kidnapping these people. Also, from the way he talked about the girl with weird eyes being cute, he's probably a rapist too. That seemed to be the implication there, unless she's missing something.

Plus there's the whole cult thing. Yeah, even if she killed them all, Kierra would not be the bad person here.

Though, she is a little bit curious as to how she accidentally killed someone, so she decides to give it some thought. Nearly fifty million points in INT mean that just putting in a bit of thought is enough for her to have her answer right away.

[Bind Person] is a 9th Tier Spell; the upgraded version of [Hold Person]. Rack was a Tier 7 Mage, as Spell Tiers are named by their peaks rather than their beginning, making a level 600 a Tier 7 spellcaster.

So when she forced him to cast [Bind Person], the Spell put too much strain on his body and killed him. If he'd have just cast the Spell himself, he would have been fine, if entirely drained of mana. It's just the fact that he wasn't in control of it, which means he must have been fighting the flow of his own mana instead of leaving it be. Thus resulting in his own mana tearing him apart from the inside out.

Mystery solved.

Moving on, Kierra turns back to the victims. Except for the interesting girl, they've all collected themselves around the unconscious Cleric, not realising that Kierra has sneakily ensured that he will stay asleep for a while.

She really doesn't want anything to do with the Church. Stupid Devs always think they're funny.

Ignoring the group, Kierra walks up to the girl who is once more staring up at her with wide eyes. Seriously, is it her hat? Is it too big and aesthetically appropriate for her character?

"You were staring at me at the Guild as well. Why?" Getting straight to the point and asking questions is the easiest way to cure curiosity. More at 7.

The girl blinks as if somehow only now noticing that Kierra is standing right in front of her.

From her position seated on the snow, the girl is actually able to meet her eyes, and Kierra can still only see some mix of shock, a bit of fear, and a lot of awe.

"Y-your aura," the girl answers after a too long pause, her voice a revering whisper.

Ah, Kierra thinks, understanding the situation. This girl must have the [Magic Vision] Passive too. That explains it. Even if it's just my mana level from when I was level 1000, to someone with [Magic Vision], my aura should have taken up roughly the entire building. She doesn't seem like she's even advanced her Race once, she must be terrified, the poor thing. Still, [Magic Vision] is impressive. Lore-wise, being born with that Passive, or talent in non game terms, would be a sign of a magical prodigy.

It's impressive honestly. Archmage Aerion is an NPC that comes to mind as one with that Passive, and he was a proper protagonist type of character.

"It's fluctuating."

Kierra's thoughts screech to a halt as the girl finishes her sentence.

Fluctuating?

Kierra smiles. Perhaps her widest smile in this body yet.

She can see the fluctuations?

"What's your name?" Kierra asks, still smiling down at the suddenly nervous girl.

"Flamelle." The response is nervous, but credit where it's due, she doesn't stutter again.

Kierra doesn't pay any attention to that though. There are no thoughts in Kierra's mind as her next words pass her lips.

"Flamelle. Become my student."

"Eh?"

"I will treat you well," Kierra continues as if she didn't hear her.

"Wait wait wait! What do you mean!?" Flamelle yells out, waving her arms wildly in front of herself.

"I mean what I say and I say what I mean," Kierra responds, looking the girl deep in the eyes, putting all the sincerity she can force into her body's aloof voice. "Be my student."

This girl saw the fluctuations in her mana. That might not seem like something great to the uninformed. Even those who know what it means wouldn't be able to fully understand Kierra's insistence. Not unless they understood exactly how good of a Mage Kierra is.

For there is no such thing as 'perfect'. Not really. Well, if you want to be pedantic, there is a difference between 'broad perfect' and 'specific perfect'. Like, getting every question right in a test is a perfect score. That kind of perfection is too specific, it's unimportant.

But what about in combat. A perfect sword. A perfect shield. None of these things exist.

In that vein, there is no such thing as a perfect concealment. They all have faults and flaws and exploits and tricks. Unlike swinging swords, which is really about dedication. Magic is all about attention to detail.

This barely trained, teenage, child. Saw the fluctuations in her mana.

A perfect concealment might not be possible, but Kierra is about as close to that as one can get, specifically when it comes to her mana. With everything else, Fly—the Rogue in her party—obviously surpasses her ability to conceal herself.

But mana? Kierra has no less than one hundred Passives stacking together that boost her mana control, and even more Passives that specifically focus on aiding in concealment, and some more bonuses from her current equipment set. Though, admittedly not much of the last part, since this is a Boss rush set, so concealment bonuses are kind of pointless to have.

Finally, and most importantly, even if it might seem like a smaller detail, but she cannot emphasise enough how significant of a factor this is, no matter that it is only five words.

Kierra Kalashnikova is The Mage.

Flamelle isn't even level 500!

Talented doesn't even begin to describe this child. Kierra would be willing to pay to be her teacher. She has taken on a few students over the years, but that was as Player and NPC, and none of them have been this talented anyway.

Keeping in mind that the first of her students ended up becoming the Sixth Cataclysm, and this Human child has even greater potential.

Kierra wants to see how far they can go. Flamelle isn't a Player, so her growth still won't match up to Kierra's. The game was only fully released for nine years after all.

But Kierra is willing to spend the next few decades rising this girl far above Aerion's level. It would be another notch to her characters incredible Lore. Another incredible accomplishment to add to her favourite story.

Then there is the motivation that Kierra would simply find it incredibly upsetting for someone so talented in Magic to not be allowed to flourish for whatever reason. But she can admit that her selfish desires are the most driving ones.

But what more can be expected of a big bad Archlich like her?

"Y-you'll really let me be your student?" Flamelle asks her, looking up at Kierra with big, wide eyes full of wonder.

"All you have to do is say yes."

Flamelle rapidly starts nodding her head, seemingly struggling to even speak. Kierra realises that her display of Magic earlier had probably impressed the girl. Good. If it hadn't then she'd have been willing to go higher than Tier 8.

"I accept! I mean–uh, yes! Yes I accept!"

Heh, cute.

Nodding once, Kierra rises back to full height, ruffling Flamelle's hair as she does, and casts her eyes about before clapping her hands once.

Everyone's attention obtained, Kierra clears her throat and speaks. "Let's go. Time to speak with the city guard. [Magic Cart] [Magic Cart]."

Two glowing blue squares appear in the air. One for the mysteriously still unconscious Cleric and the other for the criminals.

[Telekinesis]

The cat was piling her friends onto the other cart without having to be told to, so Kierra decided to reward her by using Magic to speed the process up. Including depositing the cat on top of the pile.

Now, they could walk back, it wouldn't really take long.

However.

Kierra has just obtained a student, and only casting 8th Tier Spells might give Flamelle the wrong impression that she is scrutable.

No. Kierra must be inscrutable to her student.

For the aesthetic.

"[Warp Gate]."

With her incanted words, a large, swirling sphere of dark colours snaps into existence beside them, attracting the appropriate sounds of impress from the spectators.

And impressed they should be. Unlike [Warp], which is a 13th Tier Spell, [Warp Gate] is 16th Tier. Considering these people find level 1000 impressive, this might actually be a Spell they consider Divine. That would be pretty embarrassing.

For them, to be clear. It would be embarrassing for them.

Kierra could cast three new [Warp Gates] every second forever. It's not a Spell that should be in the realm of the unfathomable.

Regardless, they all pass through in short order, with only a little bit of hesitancy on behalf of everyone other than her and the unconscious.

They are greeted by a hastily assembling guard formation. One that, upon noticing their arrival, immediately looks ready to enter a war. Kierra can smell the green on them and is reminded that it has been 100 years since anything exciting was going on in this world and how humans don't tend to live that long.

Realistically, inexperienced guards is a good sign for the world at large. It's just a little bit boring.

"Halt! Identify yourself!" Some dude she dubs Mr Guard in her head shouts at them.

Kierra sighs.

This is gonna be a whole thing, isn't it?

It was, in fact, a whole thing.

z Suicide Eznutt z · 2025-10-12T15:33:56+0100

Chapter 6: Making A Discovery

Flamelle felt in a daze as she only half heard the guard captain and Kette—her apparent new master?—Talking about measures to keep the prisoners secured.

Frankly, so much has happened in such a short amount of time that she is still processing it all.

She went from riding the eddies of determination to make herself a great Mage in the untamed north, to joining a temporary party in order to do so. Then the party is attacked by what she now knows to be four Platinum level criminals. So far above her and her party in strength that Flamelle would have had a harder time beating up a civilian than they did her.

The difference in strength was vast. Anyone surpassing level 600 is rare enough by itself, but to run into four?

But then Kette treated them all like they didn't pose a threat at all. Dismantling them with an ease that was as terrifying as it was awe inspiring. Casting Spells so complex that Flamelle can't even comprehend them with the same speed that she could cast a Tier 0 Spell.

Hell, maybe even faster.

And this Witch, this incredible, Orichalcum minimum level Witch, is willing to take her in as an apprentice? It's inconceivable. Kette might even be Titled, the power she showed.

How many Titled even are there in the entire world? A hundred? Lucking on the opportunity to be taught by someone of that level, even just a single lesson, is the kind of heaven-sent opportunity that is spoken of in storybooks. Like the Legendary Mage Kierra Kalashnikova gathering a party of the greatest talents alive and leading them against the Cataclysms a hundred years ago.

It's just not something that happens. Not for people like her.

"You really can't do it?" Her new teacher's voice—and she's still struggling to accept that—filters through her brain, sounding that consistent shade of bored. An aloof voice that carries just a hint of condescension to it that Flamelle can't decide if she's really hearing or not.

"Someone in the level range of Platinum is bound to have some difficult Skills," the guard captain replies, sounding resigned. "These cells aren't designed for that. Not to mention whatever they have hidden away in their inventories, we can't secure against this. Luckily, thanks to the centennial festival, there are actually a couple of Orichalcums in town right now. We'll try to get in contact with one to watch over these prisoners until they can be secured properly."

"If you're worried they will run, you can just cut their hands and feet off," Flamelle's apparent new teacher says, her voice still coming out bored even as they produce a horrified silence in the room. With all eyes on her, Kette's flat lips quirk up a mite on one side. "I jest. I can use Magic to temporarily cripple them. How long will you need?"

Is that her new teacher's sense of humour!?!

"A week should be fine," the captain answers after a moment. Choosing to take Kette's words as a joke for the sake of his own sanity. "Two to be safe, if you would, Lady Kette."

"Hm."

Despite everything else, Flamelle finds herself eagerly watching as Kette takes a couple of steps closer to the three locked up prisoners.

Quirks and terrifying power aside, Kette might be the most powerful Mage Flamelle has ever seen outside of the Institute's Archmages. And she's not even certain about that, so Flamelle is very interested in watching her work, hoping to glean any benefit from seeing such advanced Magic at work.

She is left disappointed when Kette doesn't visibly cast any Spells. Instead, Flamelle can only watch as three small tethers break off from Kette's insane aura of mana and slither towards a captive each.

She doesn't know exactly what happened, except that it is far above her ability to conceive, but Kette somehow does something with those tiny slithers of mana that disrupts the internal systems of the prisoners entirely. A second later, and she watches their auras simultaneously shrink and compress down until it barely covers them like a second skin.

"Done. It should last two weeks. Don't let any of your Mages do anything to them. External mana could destabilise it."

The captain blinks, surprised. Flamelle doesn't blame him—the whole process might have took eleven seconds start to finish, and he can't see mana, she assumes. So from his perspective, Kette just stared for a few seconds at the captives and declared a job done. So she isn't surprised by his question.

"What.. What did you do, exactly?"

For a second, it feels like Kette won't even bother to answer him, but then she turns to Flamelle and seems to decide to answer by turning it into a lesson.

"I buffed them," Kette begins, confusing everyone present. She continues speaking before the guard captain's growing outrage could manifest into anything. "Buffs and Debuffs are two sides of the same coin. Just now, I took control over their mana with my own and forced it into the formulae of a defensive buff. Any buff can be made more potent by adding side-effects. All things in balance, a price must be paid equal to the gain. Normally that 'price' is just the mana needed to cast the Spell. But you can choose to pay more in order to get more. I made these three cast a Spell that trades everything for defence. All of their stats bar Constitution will be less than a hundred and they won't have access to any of their Skills. In exchange, they are about as close to invulnerable as a person can get. So now you wouldn't be able to cut off any limbs even if you wanted to."

That...

You can do that!?!

Not even half of that explanation makes any sense.

She feels like she is a child opening her first book on Magic again, listening to concepts so far beyond her that they sound like fiction.

Except that this time she has enough of an understanding of Magic that Kette's words make even less sense. At least as an untrained child she could brush such confusion off because she didn't know anything about Magic.

But forcing someone else's mana into casting a Spell? Using a buff to immobilise them? Such things are possible?

Now more than ever, Flamelle is determined to not throw away this opportunity. Even if Kette only wants someone to fetch stuff and carry things for her, Flamelle will do so for as long as Kette will keep her around. Even just a week would be enough. A single lesson. Anything.

Getting personally tutored by an Archmage is the dream of everyone who attends the Institute. An honour that only two people in the Institute have received, to her limited knowledge. Even then, an Archmage is a busy person, they only have the time to spare an hour or two every week.

Flamelle doesn't know if Kette is an Archmage. What she does know is that her restrained mana is not that far off from the one time she saw Archmage Sovros' unrestrained aura.

She has seen two Archmages in person in her life. Both of them also usually kept their aura restrained. However, they restrained their auras down to normal levels. To Flamelle's level.

She doesn't know if that means what it seems to imply regarding Kette's aura, and honestly she is kind of too scared to even consider if it does.

"Flamelle," her potential teacher's voice snaps her out of her thoughts and makes her realise that Kette is standing right in front of her.

Flamelle looks down to meet Kette's eyes, because despite everything, the Elf looks even younger than her. Their eyes can only meet because the front of Kette's massive hat has been rolled back with Magic.

"Yes?" Kette doesn't react to the slight squeak in her tone.

"Do you have anyone in Laptilla? Friends? Family?"

"Uh, no?" Kette nods as if that's a good thing.

"Belongings?" Her teacher asks, and Flamelle figures she gets where this is going.

"At the inn I'm staying at."

"Okay." Kette nods once more, a hint of something positive passing her expression before it returns ever more to that aloof stare. "I have some errands to run. Gather your things and meet me at the Adventurer's Guild tomorrow morning. We're leaving."

"We are?" Flamelle kind of wanted to take part in the centennial festival, but she's not too bothered.

Kette doesn't respond with anything more than a nod and then she is just gone. She doesn't leave or flicker away or 'pop' or anything. Just one moment the small Elf is standing in front of her, and then she isn't.

What is even happening today?

Flamelle makes her way back to her inn in daze, barely even recognising the street as she walks it.

Eventually however, after she has reached her room and packed all of her meagre belongings back into her inventory, filling it nearly to the brim, Flamelle runs out of things to do on auto-pilot. She finds herself sitting on her bed, head empty of thoughts.

It is in that stillness that Flamelle feels something stir, like cold wind prickling against her skin.

Inexorably, she finds her attention drawn to the small closet in her rented room. Curious—but also cautious thanks to recent events, Flamelle starts forming the Spell circle of a [Fireball] in one hand. She waits until it is ready to be launched before approaching the closet.

Reabsorbing mana sucks, but she'd rather do that than nothing.

Slow and cautious steps bring her to the closet door, and with her Spell still primed in one hand, she darts forward with the other and swings the door open, pointing her Spell inside at the ready.

It takes her a second to recognise the sight before her, and she relaxes somewhat seeing that it is not a Cultist or something.

"Um. Mistress Kette?" She calls out to the oval, person-sized void of swirling blue colours sitting in her closet. "Hello?"

She stares at the apparent portal for a minute, waiting for her new teacher to step through. She never does.

Am I supposed to go to her? She finds herself wondering.

This portal looks different to the one Kette made earlier, but Flamelle had never even seen a portal before today, so she has no idea what the rules are.

Some instinct within her pushes her forward, so, feeling only a considerable amount of hesitancy, Flamelle steps through the portal.

The second she clears the line, her face is buffeted by freezing, arctic winds blowing hard enough that she is forced to raise an arm to cover her face.

"Mistress Kette!?" She calls out, only for her voice to be drowned in the screaming winds.

No longer shocked by the environment, she carefully lowers her arm in order to get a look around, for all the good it does.

White. It's just white and grey everywhere. White snow below and grey in the air as a snowstorm rages around her, thick enough to block sight to maybe ten feet in front of herself.

Struck by a sudden realisation, Flamelle spins around only to falter when she fails to see the portal that brought her there.

Oh.

Fire blooms in her right hand, her Spell entering completion.

She doesn't loose it right away, glancing left and right, looking for anything to give her a reason.

Nothing does, and the blizzard starts to drown the fire.

Knowing it won't last long anyway, Flamelle launches it into the blizzard randomly, hoping to learn anything from it. A response, a noise or shadow.

Nothing happens. The [Fireball] is swallowed by the snowstorm and drowned in seconds. She doesn't hear it explode. Doesn't see any distant flash of light.

...Does the universe want me dead that badly?

First she gets kicked out the Institute, then attacked by slavers wanting to sell her to The Cult, and now whatever the hell this is.

Sighing, Flamelle pulls warm clothes out of her inventory and then picks a direction and starts walking.

It has always felt like life was out to get her.

She's used to it at this point.

Kierra Kalashnikova

Looking up at the giant building in front of her, Kierra finds herself oddly surprised by how little it has changed.

The bank's walls are a little bit older looking. Some cracks decorate it and she honestly can't say whether or not they are new or if she just didn't notice them before. It's not really the kind of detail you pay attention to in the game.

Certainly not for the bank.

The only times she ever remembers visiting the bank were either when she was in a rush because she wanted to drop everything off so she could go commit suicide via over-levelled Boss over and over. Or, when she was in a rush because she wanted to buy something but didn't have enough money on her.

So the small details weren't ever something on her mind as she was entering the bank.

Shaking the thoughts away, Kierra enters the building.

Her hat doesn't take up the entire door this time. She spent the last hour and a half shrinking it down to a more reasonable size. After all, the aesthetic of a Witch hat so large as to droop enough that it covers its wearer's face isn't suitable anymore.

That's the perfect aesthetic for the mysterious stranger Witch who's probably ready to give you a Quest that will have you blaspheming against the Gods or something.

But she is a teacher now, which means she can't continue to be that kind of mysterious. Now, instead of the 'you know nothing' kind of mysterious, she needs to be the 'you don't know enough' kind of mysterious.

Aesthetics are very important.

It still took her an hour and a half to get the Enchantment done though, because the hat is already Enchanted to the brim, adding any more effects was not easy and made temporary by necessity.

Plus, as a teacher she is going to have to spend more time talking to people, such as her student. So it'd be best if people can actually look her in the eye from now on. She even modified her [Change Form] to make herself look a bit less like Kierra Kalashnikova and a bit more like Kette.

Oddly, it doesn't feel uncomfortable in the slightest to resume the form of her first character, even just in minor details. So that's nice, though it carries with it some implications she isn't too sure about.

The interior of the bank is surprisingly cool, making her think of air vents. She wonders briefly what Magic is making the effect. Hundreds of potential answers flood her mind with the thought. A thousand years of magical theory providing her with a plethora of potential answers.

Idly, as she approaches a free counter, annoyed that there are tellers now, Kierra uses a combination of Spells in tune with her thoughts.

A [Clairvoyance] brings her sight to the distant north, far from any sentient life. [Long Distance Casting] allows her to start forming a new Spell circle within the sight of her [Clairvoyance].

Within this distant forest, a Spell circle slowly forms. To anyone who could read the language of Magic, they would see runes describing locational magic. Fire, Cold, size restrictions, a model for self modulation.

"Hello, how may I help you today, Lady..?" The bank teller in front of her greets her, deciding to go with 'Lady' only after glancing at her robes.

"I would like to make a withdrawal."

"Certainly!" The clerk cheerfully replies. The fake kind of cheerful that comes with the job. She doesn't react to it.

In an empty forest far to the north, a Spell finishes forming. An entirely new Spell that has not existed before in the world, at least, not in the way this one does. There are plenty of Spells about regulating temperature, but this one works by balancing the temperature within an area to match with the internal body temperature of the caster.

It's not a high Tier Spell, so it will only work within a certain margin of temperature, but she invented it more as a thought experiment than anything else. It's not like temperatures will bother her.

A blinking notification appears in her interface, telling her to name the new Spell. She just calls it [Internal Heat Sharing] to make the notification go away and returns her attention to the teller as he offers a tablet held in her direction.

She looks at the blank slab of white stone, emanating enough mana to imply an Enchantment that she cannot see. She looks back up at him.

He looks at her. Then at the tablet and back to her. Then his eyes flick to her long ears and realisation dawns upon him.

"Ah, my apologies. They cover this in the training, but you're my first longer-lived client. The bank lost its automation one hundred years ago, so now we have to use equipment like this to confirm account details and the like. All you have to do is pour some of you mana into the tablet and it will connect to your account, then once everything is confirmed nice and well, we can move on to the withdrawal. Is that okay?"

She sighs internally, having expected something like this. Hence why it took her so long to even come here.

"If I do this, you will be able to see my account information?" She asks, just to be sure.

He nods, and though he seems confused as to why she would ask that, he also clearly doesn't want to accidentally imply anything because she isn't Human.

Well damn.

This is why she wanted it to be automatic like in the game. Because she's super famous now, and even if her account is still open, this guy will either freak out and make a scene about her identity, or he will assume she's conning him.

What a pain.

Whatever. When she visits the capital, she'll just get in contact with whoever is in charge of the bank, or hell, the King if she has to, and get them to give her back access to her account without making a fuss.

"Ah. Something urgent has just come up," Kierra shamelessly lies to the worker. "I have to go."

Without waiting for a response, she turns and leaves, starting to think about what to eat before bed.

She needs neither the food nor the bed, but food is nice and she honestly just wants to spend the night lying in bed and coming up with new Spells.

Now that her character is real, all of that Spell knowledge she gained in the game is actual, real knowledge about Magic. She's got a whole new perspective on it and has been inventing Spells on and off all day. Only simple ones though, nothing interesting yet.

She's still digesting the suddenly full vault of knowledge in her brain, after all.

Kierra freezes halfway down the bank's front steps, one heel pausing barely an inch from the next step down.

She tilts her head, wondering what could have possibly happened to trigger her [Mark of Muninn] a second time today. She casts her gaze just in time to see Flamelle step into a portal in her closet.

The moment she does so, the vision granted by Kierra's Spell immediately turns to indistinct static. The barest hints of ice and snow and a girl lost in the dark make it through but nothing more.

...Is this karma for lying about something urgent having come up?

Who even walks into random suspicious portals like that?

Kierra sighs.

She had expected that her student would be a troublesome one. Talent like hers comes with caveats. Being a magnet for trouble is one such caveat.

Ah well. Keeps things interesting.

The feedback she's getting from the mark is all fuzzy and full of corrupted data, but with the vast wealth of experience in her body, she can figure some things out.

First and most importantly, Flamelle is unharmed, hence her lack of rush.

Second, the only realistic way to disrupt this specific Spell into static would be through dimensional barriers, meaning that that portal led to a different dimension, likely a pocket dimension. That's pretty interesting. Extra dimensional stuff was always rare, as it is an incredibly complex and an even more dangerous Magic to study.

Naturally, she specialises in the stuff.

Third, there is a delay that implies some manner of time dilation being in effect. Luckily, the ratio seems pretty small, so it's not a massive deal.

Still, no reason to loiter.

[Warp]

The world blinks, replacing busy street with silent room, and Kierra looks at the portal in front of her with open interest.

Unfamiliar.

That is even more interesting.

There are certain dimensions connected to this world, such as a pair that are analogous to Heaven and Hell, or certain vaults or sacred locations. Kierra's own house has a dozen or so personal dimensions inside of it.

Kierra should be familiar with all of them, but this random portal is not recognisable in the slightest.

Very interesting.

[Delayed Return]

Setting the Spell's timer to six hours, Kierra steps into the portal. This way, if she finds that she is unable to return, she won't be stuck for any longer than six hours, standard world time.

She appears within a blizzard.

Spreading her senses out, it only takes a moment to find Flamelle. However, at the same time that she locates Flamelle, she also notices a far more powerful presence right next to her. One that feels dark and unfriendly, a direct contrast to Flamelle's childish brightness.

Not hesitating in the slightest, Kierra [Blinks] and has less than a second to take in the scene before acting.

In front of her stands Flamelle, only her face is blank, almost dazed as she is reaching for the handle of a thick, ice blue sword sticking out from a block of Enchanted ice.

Kierra's hand snaps out and grabs her student's wrist mere moments before she can make contact with the blatantly cursed sword.

Flamelle blinks as if coming out of a trance and jumps when she notices Kierra.

"Mistress Kette!" She exclaims, before immediately wilting when she notices the disappointment in Kierra's cold gaze. The child's eyes flit this way and that, like a kid looking for an excuse. "Um, uh, do you know where we are?"

"Flamelle," Kierra begins, only to get annoyed at the wind drowning out her voice. Naturally, she refuses to be forced into raising her voice by wind, of all things. "[Clear Weather]."

Her mana bursts out, and the blizzard disappears.

Kierra briefly glances about the snow-packed plain, noting the strange hue of the sky to mean that this is only a small dimensional pocket, not an entire world.

"Flamelle," Kierra begins again, attracting the girl's attention even when she clearly wants to continue to be flabbergasted by her 14th Tier Spell. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Uh, em, I don't know?" Flamelle answers to her tone with the bashfulness of a child who knows they've been caught.

Kierra sighs and lets go of the girl's arm, only after making sure she won't reach for the sword a second time.

"Okay. First rule. No walking into portals without my permission." Flamelle nods rapidly, a slight flush on her cheeks. A flush that fades into rapid paling when Kierra continues, "Second rule. No picking up cursed artifacts without explicit permission."

"C-cursed!?" Flamelle exclaims, eyes snapping to the sword with shock.

"Look around you, Flamelle. This is textbook cursed artifact. First lesson. Don't trust suspicious magical objects, especially when they're hidden away like this." The inexperience of youth sure is powerful.

Turning away from Flamelle, Kierra considers simply destroying the sword and moving on with her life, but she finds herself too curious and decides against it.

"W-wait! I thought we shouldn't touch cursed artifacts!?" Flamelle calls out in surprise and concern when Kierra reaches for the sword's handle.

"I am stronger than you."

Kierra grabs the sword and pulls it from the ice.

Immediately, she feels a foreign presence attempt to squirm its way through her hand and up into her brain. Naturally, it does not succeed. Instead, she guides the presence into a small section of Dragon's heart that contains her soul.

"W-what is this?"

She hears the voice echo in her mind, ancient and gravelly. She's unimpressed.

Raising an brow, she doesn't bother answering with words and simply peers inside of the presence.

"W-what are you- St-stop that! How dare! W-wait! Wait wait! What manner of creature are you!?!"

Humming to herself, Kierra ignores the fractured soul's ramblings and forces her sight into the deepest recesses of its spirit, observing its history like scrolling through a movie.

Since everything happening is internal, it only takes a moment from Flamelle's perspective for her to get the gist of the situation.

Is this a hint to the sequel the Devs were hinting at? Kierra muses to herself, smiling slightly at the thought.

From what she gathered, the soul inside of this sword once belonged to a somewhat powerful Lich. Probably powerful enough to be considered a Cataclysm. Maybe just a bit shy of the Sixth Cataclysm in terms of ability. Pretty impressive really.

He was born on a continent engulfed in ice and snow in a world with two other, larger continents. When he was young, the two massive Empires ruling each of the other continents went to war, and for whatever reason, this dude's frozen continent was chosen as the battlefield.

The people of that world seem to be hardy enough that the weather didn't bother them much. This guy, she quickly checks his soul for a name, Ner'char. He took advantage of the war to collect corpses and build up a massive undead army.

That went about as anyone with a brain would expect. The two Empires put aside their difference the moment he became a genuine threat and worked together to annihilate him.

However, he was the first person in that world to discover Lichdom, so no one looked for his sword after the battle cast it off into the frozen wastes.

However, while his soul was cast into the snowy wastes and before he could reform a new body, something interesting happened.

She's limited by his own understanding of it, but his memory tells of a storm of Magic. A natural event tearing through the land.

Mana storms aren't unheard of. Free mana always wants to cause chaos, and large amounts of free mana often forms storms and natural disasters of a most unpredictable nature.

In this instance, the storm of mana charged through the land like a raging bull, grabbed a whole chunk of the frozen waste surrounding this sword and basically just yoinked the land out from that world.

A mana storm stealing a chunk out of a world and stuffing it in a sealed dimension is strange enough by itself. However, in that transitory period before this dimension had finished forming, Ner'char witnessed something unbelievable.

His new home was not the only one. This storm brought thousands, millions of worlds with it. Some as small as the one surrounding Ner'char's sword, some as large as the world it was torn from. All orbiting one another like a galaxy hurtling through the non-space that exists outside of reality.

Fascinating.

"Um. Mistress Kette?" Kierra blinks at Flamelle's words, pulling her mind back to the reality around them. "Can we go back now?"

"Hm."

Kierra tears the small soul from her body, ignoring its protests, and shoves it back into his sword.

"One thing first. Stay still."

Kierra raises her free hand in Flamelle's direction and starts crafting an incredibly intricate Spell circle.

"Um. Mistress Kette?" Flamelle asks, audibly concerned by the growing Spell pointed in her direction.

Kierra doesn't answer her concerns, and simply spends another dozen seconds constructing the circle before casting it right away.

[Reveal Destiny]

Kierra's vision blooms with golden light. An uncountable, infinite number of thin golden threads appear to her, connecting from every grain of snow and spreading and splitting into a million different paths. Some clear, some disappearing into the endless ether.

Kierra filters through this sight, ignoring the Threads of Destiny she deems unimportant and focusing entirely on Flamelle.

To her new eyes, Flamelle looks like a miniature sun. Burning brightly in Destiny's light. Endless golden threads extending from her in every direction, including connecting her with the sword in Kierra's hand.

She is the complete opposite of Kierra, who is in greyscale, completely devoid of light. A darkness like the abyss.

Players were always 'outsiders' to the universe of the game, so they were never touched by Fate. Destiny avoided them like it couldn't see them. Even now, her sight is filled with golden threads reaching in her direction, only to curl in on themselves and wither before they can reach her.

It seems this aspect has followed her even now.

Noticeably, Flamelle's burning light seems to be desperately trying to latch on to Kierra, but never quite succeeding.

So that is indeed the case, then, Kierra thinks with a sigh, dismissing the alternate vision from her eyes. With talent like hers, it was inevitable that she would be a protagonist type of character. But to be touched so deeply by Destiny, she must have the [Advanced Luck Glow] Passive. And now, it seems to be pulling her here. She must be an important character for the next version.

[Advanced Luck Glow] is one of the few Passives that couldn't be acquired as a Player. They only even knew about it by chance, since you can't normally see other people's statuses. One Player however managed to confirm a [Lesser Luck Glow], which implies the existence of a mid and advanced version. Which NPCs have what is mostly a matter of evidence based guesswork.

As for whether it's even a good thing or not, that's debatable. 'Luck' by itself is not the same as good luck. The luck glow Passives just increased the odds of random encounters. Whether or not those encounters will be good or bad is completely up to further chance.

Most likely, the situation here is that Flamelle was supposed to find this sword and it would serve as some kind of guardian spirit type of character. Guiding her growth just in time to help with what she can only guess is a naturally occurring nexus of interconnected, interdimensional portals.

However, she is here now, and Flamelle is her student, not some stupid sword's.

Also, it does not escape her notice that it just so happens to be a Lich that Flamelle discovered. In a world with such a rich history and fear of Liches. It would certainly add to the plot if Flamelle had to balance her growth as a Mage with avoiding being discovered as a being most reviled.

"Would you like me to sever your Fate?" Kierra asks Flamelle after a long moment, making the girl blink in confusion. She recognises that that question is too advanced for Flamelle to really be able to make an informed decision on, so she moves on without expecting an answer. "Think about it. Now, let's get out of here. You need to go to bed."

It is getting pretty late.

Flamelle tries to protest, but is interrupted by a yawn, which really leaves her no choice but to nod meekly.

Now, Kierra obviously noticed the lack of an exit once she entered, and she is fairly sure that the exit is conditional on Ner'char. Killing him would probably work to open the dimension. Kind of like an instance dungeon now that she thinks about it.

However, she feels like he might still have some use to her, so instead she simply locks his soul into stasis within the sword and throws it into her inventory.

"Come. Hold me tightly," Kierra orders Flamelle, gesturing to herself.

The girl steps closer with hesitancy, so Kierra pulls her flush against herself.

"Close your eyes. Don't open your mouth. Don't let go of me or pull away. Pull your magical senses in and do not extend them beyond your body."

Flamelle obeys without complaint, recognising Kierra's seriousness, and Kierra nods once before getting to work.

She can't just teleport back, not without waiting for her preprepared Spell to activate anyway. This dimension will remain sealed until its conditions are fulfilled.

So naturally, leaving is as simple as removing said dimensional seal.

How does one remove a dimensional seal, one might ask?

Simple.

By removing the dimension that it is attached to.

Kierra spends a moment to lock away all of Flamelle's senses, especially of the magical kind, and then another moment layering barrier after barrier over them both, just in case.

Wouldn't want the brat to bear witness to non-existence. It's probably not good for development.

Magic, in its most basic description, is simply the forceful manipulation of reality via mana.

There are two points of emphasis to focus on there. One being the word 'forceful' and the other 'reality'. There are plenty of stories with Magic in it where they explain how mana is a natural part of the world and how magic was something akin to convincing the world to act differently. Or even just forcing one's will onto reality.

The Lore here is different.

Magic is not the alteration of reality through will. It is the alteration of reality through mana.

It might only seem like a small difference, but it is actually incredibly significant.

It's like the difference between levelling up in a game by playing the game and designing a cheat engine that simply forces your level to go up.

The point being that mana is inherently foreign.

Reality is Order.

Mana is Chaos.

So it is not much of a deduction to realise that non-existence, as the opposite to reality, is the opposite of Order, and thus, mana.

Magic is not something that naturally occurs inside of reality. It is more akin to an infection. A virus. Parasite.

The Lore was never too clear about it all, but the origin of Magic in this world was likely the Mythical Era, thousands and thousands of years in the past.

There are many reasons Magic could be introduced into reality. It is all theoretical of course, with no way to prove either way what is true. Even during the insightful and enjoyable conversations that Kierra has had with one of the Devs in the area of Lore design never told her anything on the subject.

He mostly used her as an ideas board to bounce thoughts off of, but he did tell her plenty of Lore that was either too obscure to find or stuff that they couldn't figure out how to add to the game without seeming like a blatant infodump.

However, whenever it came to certain topics, such as the origin of Magic, the Dev in question would only smile meaningfully and tease her with silence.

At some point they gave her the [Origin of Magic] Title, which honestly just annoyed the hell out of her, even if she is usually always happy to have more Lore attached to her character.

But that Title, combined with certain other bits of Lore just annoy the heck out of her. It's just so embarrassing! Stupid Devs!

Regardless, she has gotten distracted.

Relevant here is that it was possible for a Player to exit Reality. In fact, it was necessary, however briefly, in order to defeat the Eighth Cataclysm.

However, non-existence is simply too chaotic. Chaos without Order leads only to destruction after all. Though, she would personally still rather face destruction than the stagnation of Order without Chaos.

But then, she is a Mage. The Mage. It is only natural that she would feel this way.

As a matter of fact, her infinite mana trick even involves making use of non-existence.

This all is to say that Kierra is no stranger to destroying reality itself. So a small, secondary dimension like this is hardly going to give her trouble.

Her only concern is exposing Flamelle to the pure chaos of non-existence. Hence all the barriers.

But with that done, all that is left is to act.

Flamelle tenses and shivers within her arms as Kierra's mana floods out of her body. A second later, a blinding light fills the small dimension as a truly enormous Magic circle appears on the ground, Kierra's feet at its centre.

This Spell isn't exactly a combat Spell. It has a long cast time and is technically single-target.

Earlier, Kierra considered simply destroying Ner'char's Phylactery by shattering the sword with [Greater Break Item], as the weaker version of the Spell likely wouldn't have much effect.

She isn't actually certain if that would have even been enough to break the sword. She estimate's Ner'char's level to be somewhere around the early levels of 1800 after all. He isn't weak.

If it ended up not working, this Spell is what she would have moved to. The highest Tier version of all of the 'Break X' Spells.

[Shatterpoint]

Kierra's enormous Spell circle—covering almost the entire floor of this dimension—flashes.

With a deafening noise like one thousand panes of glass shattering in tandem, the entire dimension cracks. From the snow-covered floor all the way up the walls of the dimension in place of a sky.

There is no slow spread, the cracks don't start from her feet and grow. Everything simply cracks at once, like boiling water poured over freezing glass.

Kierra's mana compresses into a ball in the direct centre of this dimension, pulling back like a hammer ready to fall.

And fall it does. An equidistant pulse of mana that hits the entire dimensional wall in the same moment.

In an instant, the cracks in reality spread until there are more cracks than not and then she is witness to the sight of the world falling away. Collapsing into small fractions of reality that fall apart like broken mirrors.

In its place, chaos reigns. An impossible mix of swirling colours. Growing, shrinking, spinning while staying absolutely still and fluctuating through every colour and shape and concept. Miniature realities are formed and destroyed every second as time pulls back in pieces and forward in wholes.

It is maddening.

It is so much more beautiful in person.

Just as Martial Arts are a product of Order, so too is Magic a product of Chaos. So it is only natural that The Mage would find such a sight so enchanting.

However, as Ner'char's dimension collapses and is reduced to its most base concepts by this chaotic stream, Kierra glimpses something vast.

In the far distance and right before her nose, she sees worlds. A countless number of realities, all bound together by endless threads.

She sees barren wastelands like the one in which she just stood. She sees realms full of endless armies. She feels the presence of many powerful beings, maybe even reaching her level. She sees entire universes here, all bound together by these never ending threads. An infinite web.

An unfamiliar feeling wells up within her, distracting her from her wonder. It takes her a moment to identify the feeling, as it is not something she has personally felt before, not in the safe world of her past. However, it is a feeling that this body remembers well.

Danger.

Kierra's heart skips a beat as she notices something that had always been right in front of her only now that she knows it exists.

A giant, impossibly large eye is staring at her from the centre of this web. She cannot see it but she knows it is there. So large that she could be a grain of sand compared to its enormity.

Kierra feels its attention on her.

[Warp]

The world blinks.

Kierra watches the blue portal in Flamelle's closet shatter into infinite fractals and lifts a hand from Flamelle's shoulder to absorb the excess energy. Wouldn't want it to eat through the wall or something.

A beat passes in stillness. Processing.

Ner'char you idiot! That isn't a damn mana storm!

Her arm drops a moment later, having failed to distract her from her thoughts.

What was that? She thinks back on the sense of suppression she felt from it. A feeling that can only mean one thing. Whatever it is, it must have surpassed level 2500. Only something higher up on the hierarchy of life could have made me feel like that. The hell are the Devs throwing at us? What's wrong with just more Liches?

She isn't too surprised by the level, in all honesty. If she was not who she is, then she likely wouldn't have even been able to notice it.

It is only because she has the Magical knowledge and experience of Kierra Kalashnikova and the modern understanding of genres and clichés that she is not panicking.

She can more or less understand the situation. If that thing is a part of the sequel she heard rumour of, then it is almost certainly the final Boss. If it were still a game, she might even be able to beat it as she is now. However, that would only be on the shoulder of countless deaths.

She isn't even really surprised about the level. The weakest Cataclysm was the Sixth, and he was level 1900 at a time where the top players were only just passing 1500. Technically the first two were weaker, but that's because they were before the official game release, and the second was her anyway.

Plus, Mythic Vielduine was level 2449, and she beat that. After dying thousands of times sure, but she did win.

She would be more concerned if not for the understanding that this being is still far far away. It only appeared close because of the chaotic nature of non-existence, but she wouldn't be surprised if it would take another century before it was even close enough to personally interact with this universe.

However, that web of realities orbiting around it is truly impossibly large in scale. Larger than an entire universe. Large enough that this reality will likely have to deal with becoming entangled in this web long before ever having to interact with this creature.

Assuming that it even wants to interact with the worlds it has gathered. For all she knows, it's some higher dimensional being that is collecting realities purely as a hobby, like a child collecting pretty rocks as they walk down a beach.

Kierra shakes her head. It's pointless to think about. The main takeaway from this whole experience is that the next version of the game seems to be an invasion of worlds type of thing, full of instance dungeons and foreign worlds.

"Oh!" Flamelle exclaims as Kierra dispels all of the magical protections she cast. "We're back! What happened? How come you seem so happy?"

Happy? Kierra ponders on her feelings and realises that she can't really deny it. It's only natural, I suppose. Magic is meant for battle. For combat. And I just felt the existence of an endless number of acceptable targets, how could I not be excited at the thought?

Kierra considers what to say. The girl simply lacks the understanding to even fathom any reasonable explanation, and she lacks the strength to be able to react in any way to it. She is also too weak and inexperienced to understand why Kierra would feel happy.

So, instead of needlessly burdening the child, Kierra simply pats her on the head—even though she has to step on her tippy toes to do so—and smiles at her.

"I brought us back. Moving through dimensions is not something your body can handle yet, hence the safety precautions. Do you feel unwell? Changed in any manner?"

"Uh, no? Is that something I should be worrying about?" Flamelle asks with the voice of someone who is now worrying about it.

"No. But tell me if you feel anything off. Now, go to bed. It has been a long day." Flamelle's Luck can be thanked for that, but obviously she isn't going to get into that right now. Flamelle is a growing girl, she needs to get her sleep.

Flamelle nods her head, unable to deny her tiredness, even if she clearly has a lot of questions.

"Digest your recent experiences. If you have any questions, ask them in the morning." Flamelle nods and makes an agreeable sound, so Kierra prepares her mana to leave. However, right before she does so, she remembers something else and gives Flamelle a serious stare. "If you have any strange dreams that either feel oddly real or as if they are guiding you somewhere, ignore them and tell me about it in the morning."

You never know with protagonists. Her [Advanced Luck Glow] will no doubt be persistent. Especially since it cannot connect to Kierra.

Flamelle is clearly the type of protagonist that is supposed to have some kind of guiding figure in her life. If she really was sold to this Cult Kierra is curious about, then she likely would have wound up the protégé of some important priest or whatever.

Frankly, being related in anyway to someone so drenched in Fate will only really be troublesome. However, Kierra has already decided that Flamelle will be her student. Destiny can suck it.

The easy solution would simply be to allow Flamelle's Thread of Destiny to connect with her, however Kierra refuses that out of principle.

"G'night," Flamelle mumbles as she moves to climb into her bed. Watching Kierra with half lidded eyes.

Kierra in turn looks down at the sleepy girl. It strikes her for a moment, that this is a real, living human being. A child. Barely fifteen years old.

Without consciously realising it, almost all of Kierra's training plans of throwing Flamelle at monsters are thrown out of the window. Flamelle isn't a Player. If she dies...

"Sleep well."

[Blink]

Chapter 7: Opening Cinematic, Resolved

Kierra rubs at her eyes as she walks into the Adventurer's Guild in the morning, nursing a killer headache.

Her new body isn't one that really needs sleep, but by sheer coincidence, she finds herself wanting to take a nap just like when she first arrived. This time, it has nothing to do with the whole, transferral of consciences thing.

Instead, the cause is that she spent basically the entire night after that whole fiasco with Flamelle exercising the abilities that granted her the Title of [Purveyor of Eternity].

Last night was a wake-up call telling her that she should not be underestimating how desperately Destiny wants to pull at Flamelle's life.

She expected that she would have to keep an eye out while they travelled. But since Destiny is willing to go so far as to connect portals to the girl's room, well, she had to take precautions.

So for the entire night, Kierra has been searching and mapping Threads of Destiny.

She started within reality, extending her sight to the edges of this solar system and checking over each and every Thread of Destiny coming and leaving out into the far reaches of space.

Now, there is quite literally an infinite number of Threads of Destiny. Any basic understanding of the multiverse theory can explain why, though she isn't actually convinced that the multiverse theory holds true here, not as it was explained to her anyway.

The point is that every atom in the universe has its own infinitely branching Fate. So actually peaking into every single one is obviously unreasonable.

What Kierra could do is filter it somewhat. Look for Threads that hold power, those that are connected to powerful beings like Dragons.

A Dragon's Fate will often influence many smaller Fates, so those Threads tend to have a certain gravity to them that the Thread of a grain of sand's Destiny will not.

Other than then, she also looked for 'clusters', so to speak. She was basically searching for any alien life that might be approaching this system.

Truthfully, before seeing that Eye, she had thought that the sequel was going to be a hyper advanced alien invasion. She was kind of excited for it, because Magic versus technology is cool.

Unless technology wins, then it sucks.

Regardless, she did find a number of life-forms out there, but none of them seemed likely to be heading her way any time soon, if ever.

So, done with that, she turned her attention to the beyond. She broke through reality and spent a few hours pouring over the 'bubble' that is her universe within non-existence.

She did much the same thing, only with far more difficulty. The chaotic nature of non-existence makes everything more difficult, especially an ordered search.

She must have looked at billions of Threads, searching for anything heading the way of her universe. Any threats that might get in the way of Flamelle's growth.

There are a few coming in the short term. Not all of them connected to Flamelle of course, but still. Either way, it shouldn't be anything this world can't handle, not for at least another decade anyway.

Beings around her level in power are naturally capable of shielding themselves from her, so she can't be certain on that front.

Lastly, Kierra returned her sight to Flamelle and spent the rest of the night searching through all of the Threads connected to her.

There are a lot.

One interesting thing she did find though was that there is indeed a high ranking Cultist that is connected to Flamelle as a teacher and student might be.

Too bad for him, because Flamelle is hers.

It is only a shame that she can't gather detailed information like this. Only a general sense of who or what is sitting on either end of a Thread and what the connection is. It's not like she can learn where they are or what they are like or anything.

It's still draining as hell though.

A normal Mage doing what she spent the night doing would do so only through glimpses. Maybe a few seconds looking before stopping.

It makes a lot of sense when one considers both the complexity of the art and the fact that even Kierra, with her insane pool of mana, was burning through her entire mana reserves every three minutes or so. For the entire night.

She is so tired right now.

She's basically just been huffing health potions to stave of the headache.

Luckily, Kierra's body is too aloof to show any feelings that aren't mocking or amusement. So she looks no different from normal when she walks through the Guild's doors.

The already becoming familiar sensation of a few dozen sets of eyes locking on to her is brushed aside and ignored as Kierra locates her student sitting alone at a table to the side.

The girl in question perks up at her arrival and sends a rather shy wave her way, which has Kierra's headache feeling just a little bit better.

However, as Kierra makes her way to the girl, she notices two finely dressed men on the other side of the room take note of her, end their conversation and begin to approach.

Random encounters first thing in the morning? [Advanced Luck Glow] really doesn't take a day off. At this point, it feels contradictory. There is so much 'luck' that I feel like we'd have to be incredibly lucky just for nothing at all to happen.

"Mistress Kette!" Kierra has no idea why Flamelle started calling her that instead of teacher or something, but she doesn't necessarily dislike it. "Did you sleep well?"

"Hm." Kierra nods, but doesn't bother starting a conversation or sitting down.

Instead, she simply turns to the two gentlemen and watches their approach in silence.

"Lady Kette, is it?" One of the men greets. His clothes are more functional than the other guy, and he has a decent build, so probably a fighter of some sort. Though, with his greying black hair and rugged features, he looks like he'll level up your one-handed swordsmanship if you talk to him or something. "I can only apologise for overhearing your student, it was not my intention to eavesdrop, but I would like to speak with you if you have the time?"

Kierra meets his eyes in silence. Outwardly, it might seem as if she is silently telling him to get to the point already, but inwardly she is just marvelling at how good of an idea it was to shrink the brim of her hat. It would be awkward to have every conversation with her face hidden behind her hat.

The man forces a cough and then gestures to the blond-haired, blue-eyed white knight looking dude by his side. "This is Lord Clotis Brismarche, of the Brismarche family. He is the governing Lord of Laptilla." The Lord in question dips his head in a polite greeting as the man's hand comes back to his own chest. "And I am Gregory Finch, the Head of this branch of the Adventurer's Guild. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Kette."

"Indeed," the Lord continues from Greg. He even smiles like a prince. It kind of reminds her of Mihae in a way that pisses her off a little. "Even this far north, those of Orichalcum and above are a rare sight. Additionally, I must thank you for your efforts in bringing those criminals to justice and ensuring their inability to escape."

She looks him up and down, trying and failing to find fault with his friendly mask.

Kierra doesn't trust politicians or governments, so she has an inherent bias against this guy because he is a Lord. She doesn't trust him at all.

"Hm. What do you want?"

The Lord seems taken aback by her blunt response, but he moves past it with surprising grace and understanding. He must be a high level politician.

Smiling reasonably, the Lord gestures back to the Adventurer's Head. "We both have our own reasons for wishing to seek you out, but as we are here within the Guild, I feel that it would be best to allow for Sir Finch to go first."

So you can use the conversation to gauge my character and better ply your manipulative trade?

She really doesn't trust politicians.

Politics has always been corrupt, and she has heard they were starting to get really blatant with the corruption back in the early second millennia, but it got so much worse in her time. Her grandparents used to whine about it like crazy. It was kind of annoying honestly.

"Ahem. First, I would like to offer my official thanks for saving a number of my Adventurer's from those criminals," Mr Finch begins, and Kierra cuts him off as he opens his mouth to continue.

"Does an official thank you come with monetary compensation?" She doesn't really need the money, but she is honestly curious.

Finch pauses as a somewhat awkward look crosses his face. "Er. Well uh, no, not really."

"Then what is the point of making it official?" The Lord's lip twitches and he raises a hand to cover a smile at her words. She still doesn't trust him though.

"Doing so officially means that my thanks can be added to your file," Mr Finch explains. "That means that other members of the Guild will be more willing to trust you at your word if you ever come to them with anything, such as more captured criminals."

Ah. That actually does make a lot of sense.

Not being above admitting fault, Kierra dips her head his way. "I see. Thank you for informing me."

He nods graciously before continuing his earlier words.

"Now, other than simply thanking you, there was one other matter I wished to discuss. You see, Lynsil has informed me that you have been absent of worldly affairs for roughly a century and a half now."

So much for client confidentiality, Kierra thinks bitterly in her heart.

Seeming to notice her feelings, the Guildmaster waves his hands placatingly in front of himself.

"Worry not, Lady Kette. Other than the duration of your absence, Lynsil told us nothing of your consultation. He only said that much so as to help us avoid forming any false preconceptions about you. He would speak of nothing else, as he is very professional."

She nods at his words, grateful that she didn't actually misread Lynsil.

"Moving forward, I could not help but notice how you seem to be unaffiliated, and so I wanted to extend to you a personal invitation to join the Adventurer's Guild-"

"I refuse."

He seems a little put out by her interruption, but not in the way of annoyance, more like resignation.

"Are you certain? Over the past century, the Adventurer's Guild has grown significantly. Joining would offer many benefits, and I am even prepared to promote you directly to Platinum-"

"Stop." He stops. "I would not join if you offered me a Kingdom's treasure vault. I have my own reasons."

Finch lets out a sigh, but he does not his head in acceptance. "I see. In that case, I shall not continue to pester you." His eyes dart between her and the Lord for a second before he continues, "In that case, I shall take my leave. A Guildmaster is always busy."

With one last friendly smile, the man turns on his heel and marches away, leaving the two of them alone. Well, three if one counts Flamelle, who has been sitting there and watching he conversation like it's a tennis match.

Kierra's eyes fall back on Lord Prince Charming, who smiles friendlily.

"First, allow me to once again introduce myself." He actually bows this time, though only lightly. One hand on his chest and the other behind his lower back. "I am Lord Clotis Brismarche. Heir to the Ducal House of Brismarche and governing Lord of Laptilla and the surrounding lands."

"Mhm. Kette."

He seems more amused than offended by her simple introduction, which is really starting to make her feel paranoid. She is almost certain that if she decides to trust that he is actually both a Noble and a reasonable person that she will immediately find a knife in her back.

"Before I begin, would you be willing to relocate to a more private venue?" Mr Lord asks her, and she doesn't miss the way his eyes glance down to Flamelle and then the room at large.

Kierra simply flicks her wrist and casts a [Silence] as a barrier around them. She can't be bothered to have this conversation elsewhere.

She notices his curious look at her action and figures she should at least explain. There are limits to how rude she is willing to let her paranoia make her.

"Privacy Spell." His eyes flick to Flamelle again. "No need to exclude my apprentice."

"If that is your decision," he dips his head again in acknowledgement. "Then, there are two topics of discussion on my part as well. I will get one out of the way first, as I believe it will not take long for you to have an answer. On behalf of the Ducal Family of Brismarche, I would like to invite you into my employ. I would be willing to offer you incredibly generous terms."

He makes the offer as if he already knows it will be rejected, which is smart of him.

However, before rejecting, she is actually a little bit curious what terms he considers to be generous. A Ducal Family should be second only to the Royal Family, so he should be pretty rich.

"How generous?" She asks, causing his eyes to light up with surprise.

"Incredibly so," he responds after a moment's hesitation. "As well as the vast connections of my Family and access to advanced magical resources and artifacts, I would be willing to offer you a yearly salary of one million Gold, as well as a signing bonus of one Celestium if you agree to a thirty year contract."

Kierra ignores Flamelle gasping in the background.

One million Gold is actually a pretty decent salary. Actually, it's a massive salary now that she thinks about it.

She forgot for a second that she is stupidly rich, assuming her bank account hasn't been touched.

So to her it isn't a big deal, since if she converted all of her coins to Gold, she'd probably have had over a billion of them.

However, that Celestium is actually a little bit tempting. She only had 189 of them last she counted. They're super rare.

Valuable too. Most of the currencies are 10:1 going up the list. That only changes when you get to Orichalcum, which are worth 100 Platinum, and Celestium, which are then worth 1,000 Orichalcum.

Technically this makes one Celestium worth one million Gold, but in practice, there are certain things that can be bought with Celestium that simply cannot be bought by any amount of Gold.

From the satisfied look to Clotis' eyes, it is clear that he is perfectly aware of how tempting that Celestium is. He probably wouldn't have offered it otherwise. She thinks he realised that the Gold alone didn't interest her and added that last minute.

Sneaky. As expected of a politician.

But is one Celestium worth 30 years of her life?

...It's honestly hard to say. She doubts that she will be able to get them in this life as easily as she did in the game. Basically all of her Celestium came from robbing Dragon hoards and treasuries from fallen Kingdoms and stuff after all.

Eventually however, Kierra shakes her head. "Thank you for the generous offer, but I refuse."

It pains her to do so. Gamer brain has her wanting to take every chance to collect super rare items, but it's just one Celestium. One million Gold, converted. She's coping.

Ahhh!!! She wants it so baaaad!!!!

"If that is your decision," Lord Clotis accepts her choice, and he seems more interested than anything else that she would turn down such a generous offer.

"Hm." Her body still doesn't show her internal struggle, but he seems amused by her response regardless.

Stupid politicians.

"Then, the other matter." His face draws into a more serious disposition, rousing her interest. "About those criminals you captured. I have had my men interrogate them, to very little effect mind you. They have been remarkably silent. Of the three of them, only Mox, the Beastman woman has been in any way cooperative, and I believe we have you to thank for that."

"How so?" Kierra asks with a tilt of her head.

He seems almost amused as he answers, "Because she seemed rather terrified that you would show up if she said nothing. Regardless," his amusement fades away with a shake of the head. "We have discovered that they are likely members of Seeking Coffin, a-"

He is interrupted from explaining who Seeking Coffin are by Kierra being uncharacteristically emotive enough to facepalm, letting out a small, quiet groan as she does.

"You know them?" Clotis asks, brows raised in surprised.

"Hm." Kierra lets out a sigh before regaining her poise and turning her attention back to Clotis. "They're super annoying. I would have greeted news of their total demise if it had happened over the last hundred years."

Seeking Coffin was a Player Guild from the game, like her own and many others.

Except, they were a PK Guild that she doesn't think ever even once cleared a Raid Boss or anything. They would just wait for other people to do so and then ambush them. That, or they would raid your Guild while you were out fighting Bosses, it was a massive pain in the backside.

Luckily for her, Kierra and her friends were all the best players in the game, so they didn't have to worry too much. However, they all had a few friends outside of the party who got hit a few times.

Kierra and her friends must have launched a dozen or so raids against Seeking Coffin over the years, but they never stayed gone for long. They were like cockroaches. Knowing that even now, a hundred years later and in her new real life, she will still have to deal with the annoying little parasites, she almost wants to cry.

Well, she thinks, her head tilting in thought, At least they shouldn't be respawning this time.

"Indeed," Clotis agrees, "They are a troublesome lot. I mostly came simply to warn you of the nature of their Guild and advise you to be cautious, but if you are already aware, then that is even better. Additionally, we have learned through certain sources that Seeking Coffin has been growing its relationship with The Cult, whose influence is unknown in scale. So it would be best if you kept one eye over your shoulder, in case they decide to retaliate for your actions here."

She nods her head in acknowledgement, and he surprisingly does not try to push his presence once he has said his words. Simply nodding back and smiling.

"That is all that I came to say, so I shall not bother you any longer. Unless you have anything to mention?"

Kierra doesn't trust politicians. All of them are corrupt.

However. Some politicians are actually smart enough to realise that they can gain more by making themselves useful and helping others rise with them, instead of doing everything they can to kick the ladder out behind them.

Clotis seems to be one of those politicians. So, while she certainly won't trust him or his apparent sincerity, she figures that she probably doesn't need to worry about him being so stupid as to make an enemy of her.

House Brismarche, huh?

It's not a name she is familiar with, so she commits it to memory.

"No. Thank you." Wait, didn't he say Ducal? He should actually be connected enough to help her with one thing then. "Wait." He pauses in the motion of turning to leave, raising a brow in her direction. "Do you know who is in charge of the bank these days?"

"A reasonable question," Clotis responds with a chuckle. "When the famed Enchantments failed, things became a little bit fractured. There were too many diverse interests for the bank to truly break apart, but while the actual bank has remained one whole, the bureaucracy has split by national borders. You should find no issue accessing your account no matter where you are, unless you find yourself as a wanted criminal, then you likely won't be able to do so while within whichever region you are wanted. Here in Laptalia, I believe it is the Ducal House of Cohenberg."

Kierra actually recognises that name, though she is pretty sure they were Viscounts last she remembers. They're doing pretty well for themselves then, to be Ducal now.

"Thank you," she nods his way again.

"It is no problem at all. Are you planning to stay in Laptilla for the rest of the festival? I would be happy to host you in my manor if you are?"

"No. We're leaving."

He doesn't seem surprised. "Might I ask where you are headed?"

She eyes him for a moment, but he really hasn't given away any reason to be overly suspicious of him, so she decides to answer.

"We're taking the next train to the capital."

"Train?" He asks, confused, which confuses her in turn.

"The thing with the tracks?"

"Oh! You mean the rail?" Is that what they call it? Not very creative. "Well, the next rail to the capital should be in roughly an hour if I recall correctly, and then every two following."

"Hm." This conversation is draining her. It's been going on too long.

Still, he doesn't seem put off by her lacklustre responses.

"Well, good luck on your journey then. And if you find yourself needing anything when you arrive, please do not hesitate to seek out my Family. I will send them news of you and inform them to help you with anything you need."

Kierra's eyes narrow at his offer. "Why."

His lip quirks up in a wry smile. "Because it is my belief that generating positive relationships with powerful individuals such as yourself is worth the trouble that doing so often brings."

That answer only makes her eyes narrow even more, as it is clearly intentionally phrased to fit with Kierra's mindset. It's even working. Being so open about his politically scheming ways is making her have a better opinion of him, which is in turn making her suspicious of why he would phrase it like that.

"No need to be so suspicious, Lady Kette," Clotis speaks again, chuckling lightly. "One does not isolate themselves from the world for over a century if they hold a positive impression of society at large. I am not blind to the dispositions of many of my supposed peers, so I do not misunderstand your caution. I will simply say that my family did not rise to its current heights by betraying our allies."

Kierra nods her head at the bit about the typical Noble dispositions.

The only good politicians are autists that treat their job like a real life RTS game. Because at the very least, you can trust that anything they do will be to the betterment of the nation as a whole. No one takes their jobs quite as seriously as hyper-fixated autists do.

Kierra nods her head again. "I don't like you."

He chuckles. "Because you can't find a reason to dislike me?" She glares harder and he chuckles some more before shaking his head and turning to leave once more. "Then, if there is nothing else, I shall not bother you any further. Have a nice day, Lady Kette, Miss Flamelle."

Flamelle jumps in surprise at being named abruptly and hurries to bow and offer a proper goodbye to the Lord.

Kierra watches him leave for a moment before turning and taking a seat at the table with Flamelle. She watches the girl in silence as she seems to be processing that interaction.

Soon enough however, Flamelle is turning to Kierra with a great deal of excitement. "Oh my Goddess did he really just offer you Celestium!? And so much Gold too!? And you turned him down!? And told Lord Brismarche that you didn't like him!? To his face!"

Kierra just waves the girl's disbelief away. "It was a good offer, but not irrefusable. More importantly, how are you feeling? Did you have any strange dreams last night?"

Flamelle calms down, and actually gains a rather worried expression, looking down at her with furrowed brows.

"I did, actually," she admits, audibly concerned. "I dreamed about entering a tall, spikey black tower, and then I was walking down a hall and two big doors swung open to reveal a crown atop a pillow on an altar in the centre of the room. It felt like the crown was talking to me, inviting me to become a successor. Mistress Kette, what is happening to me? Am I cursed?!"

[Advanced Luck Glow] really is persistent.

"No, you are not cursed," Kierra says, placating her student. "You are lucky."

She knows that Flamelle won't understand from just that, so Kierra raises a finger and enters lecture mode.

"Second lesson," she begins, the first having been to not touch suspicious magical objects. "Luck is by itself not the same thing as good or bad luck. Destiny is a very real thing, and it is affected by Luck. Despite what some people like to think, Fate, or Destiny, is not some sentient force planning and scheming or any such thing."

Even if it does feel good to curse out Fate sometimes. But she doesn't think that it's good for a Mage's development to go around believing that Destiny has a will. Hence this lesson.

"Destiny is just another energy field. Being 'lucky' simply means that you have a sort of 'gravity' that specifically pulls at the Threads of Destiny, thus bringing 'possibility' closer to 'certainty'. Most people with as much luck as you tend to die young, but those who survive tend to go far. An example you might be familiar with would be Archmage Aerion, if he's still kicking these days."

The way her eyes widen at the mention of his name tells Kierra that Aerion is in fact likely still active. She finds herself honestly relieved to know that. She would have been upset to hear of his death.

Kierra may only know him as an NPC, but the game was still very advanced, and he is an NPC that she has spent a lot of time with.

"This all brings me back to my offer from last night," Kierra continues. "I can sever your Fate if you want. Make you free from Destiny. It is up to you though."

Flamelle takes a moment to digest her words and think about her answer, which is good. One shouldn't be rash about this sort of thing.

"Would it be permanent?" She asks a very good question.

"No. Reconnecting to Destiny is easy. However, your exceptional luck would be gone for good."

Flamelle thinks for a bit longer before responding. "What do you suggest I do, Mistress Kette?"

Kierra nods her head at the question. Asking people more experienced than yourself is the smart thing to do. That is the whole point of having a teacher.

"Normally, I would say that it is up to what you seek in life. With your luck, you will either die without accomplishing anything, or you will manage to reach the peak of this world. Without it, you will still have your talent, but opportunity will rarely find you. You would still likely go far, but it would be unlikely for you to reach the same heights. Personally, I would choose to take that risk over the safe option. One has to be ambitious if they want to see the heights of Magic. But it would be unreasonable for anyone to compare themselves to me."

Kierra pauses for a moment so Flamelle can digest her words, before raising a finger as she goes to respond.

"However, I am here. As my apprentice, you can rely on me. So I would suggest keeping your luck regardless. Destiny will continue to pull danger into your life in equal measure to opportunity. But Destiny does not know that you have me. Any danger that comes that you cannot handle, I can deal with. The opportunities that your luck will bring is more than likely worth the trouble of having to deal with frequent improbable dangers."

She's already benefitted from it with Ner'char sitting in her inventory. The knowledge of what is coming is certainly a nice thing to have, and she intends to spread this knowledge once they reach the capital.

This isn't really the kind of thing that she should be keeping to herself after all. Not since it is going to affect the entire world.

Kierra's attention is drawn back to Flamelle when the girl nods her head and looks down to her with resolve in her eyes.

"I will do as you suggest, Mistress Kette. But uh.." The girl's resolve doesn't last very long, falling into uncertainty. "Are you sure I'm that lucky? I mean, I have always felt like life has been unreasonable at times, but I can't help but feel like you're overestimating me. Both about my luck and my apparent talent. I'm better than most my age, but I don't think I'm that good."

Kierra considers the girl's unsure expression for a moment in silence.

"Third less—no. Third rule." Kierra makes sure to meet Flamelle's eyes in order to convey the importance of this rule. "Have faith in me. I will not lie to you. I will not exaggerate. I will only withhold information from you when doing otherwise would be actively detrimental to you. I am your teacher, you must be able to trust my words, or my teachings will be wasted. You are more talented than Aerion. I will take you to heights no other Human has ever touched upon."

Flamelle obviously isn't entirely convinced. Trust like that isn't something that can come about from words alone. But she is considering it now.

Kierra wants Flamelle to truly accept and internalise the fact of her own incredible talent. A little bit of ego is necessary for one to succeed, after all. So it will be Kierra's job to not just encourage that ego, but also prune it so that Flamelle does not fall into arrogance.

It is a fine line.

She'll get there eventually.

"Now come," Kierra pushes herself to her feet. "We have a train to catch."

Oh wait, I suppose I should start saying rail?

Distracted by the thought of etymology, Kierra never notices Flamelle ducking her head in embarrassment. Nor does she notice how Flamelle brushes an unshed tear from her eye, following after her teacher with a small, watery smile on her lips and a gaze full of the determination to hold up to such high praise.

Chapter 8: God is Dead

Following her teacher out of the Adventurer's Guild, Flamelle finds herself in a daze for the second time in as many days, if for a vastly different reason this time.

She has not known Kette for long at all. Barely even a full day, really. But that was enough time to build an impression of the diminutive woman.

The first, and most obvious thing. Mistress Kette is powerful. Incredibly so. At least Orichalcum, probably Titled.

Her attitude however, didn't seem to line up with what Flamelle would have imagined of such a powerful, and apparently old, Mage.

For one, Kette is really small. She looks even younger than Flamelle, maybe about the same age. Kette doesn't have the imposing figure that Flamelle would picture when she would think of powerful Mages. Not like Kierra Kalashnikova, the greatest Mage ever. Tall, imposing, majestic.

Kette in comparison, just seemed like a simple, if rather mysterious, Witch passing through. Especially when her hat covered her face. Flamelle hasn't worked up the courage to ask why it has shrunk.

Her attitude is a little bit condescending, but she mostly just sounded bored in every conversation she has been in. She didn't show the kind of arrogance that Flamelle would have expected. Though, the super expensive looking robes are pretty fitting.

So despite being incredibly happy with lucking into the tutelage of such a powerful Mage, Flamelle didn't have much of an opinion of her beyond her strength. She felt a little bit racist thinking it, but she was kind of just assuming that for a long-lived species like an Elf, that Kette was simply looking at the world as if it was something insignificant that would all fade away in a moment.

She thought that Kette had only picked her up as a passing whim. A way to pass some time.

You are more talented than Aerion. I will take you to heights no other Human has ever touched upon.

Flamelle feels butterflies rising in her stomach as the memory replays.

It was only for a moment. Just for as long as it took to speak those words before she returned to normal.

But in that moment, Flamelle felt like she was speaking with a King of olde, or some Legendary Hero.

The fire within Kette's eyes as she spoke those words. The conviction, the charisma. It felt as if it was Kierra Kalashnikova herself speaking to her. Encouraging her. Inspiring her as the Hero once inspired entire armies to fight against the Cataclysms.

Because despite everything. Despite having only just met this woman.

Flamelle believed her.

Believed that Kette truly does think so highly of her. Of her.

It was...

She has never had someone express such unwavering faith in her before. It makes her want to do her best. To live up to Kette's expectations of her, even if she still doesn't fully believe them.

But even if her talent can't match Archmage Aerion, Flamelle will surpass him anyway!

She can't do anything else. There are no other options. Not when the alternative would be to turn Mistress Kette into a liar.

"E-excuse me!" A sudden, vaguely familiar voice calls out, pulling Flamelle from her thoughts.

She turns with Mistress Kette and finds herself surprised to see Markus—the young Cleric from the other day rushing their way, waving.

"Markus!?" She exclaims, greeting him with a smile. "I'm glad to see you doing well!"

"Thank you!" He smiles her way before turning his attention to the silent Kette. "And thank you as well! I never got the chance to say it back then, but you saved my life as well as the lives of my friends, so thank you very much!"

In the face of Markus' joyous thanks, Kette's expression doesn't so much as twitch.

"Hm. If that's all?" Kette asks, gesturing to the fact that he is blocking them.

Markus either misses or chooses to ignore the hint.

"Actually, when I told Father Peterson about everything that happened and how I was intending to seek you out in order to offer my thanks, he insisted that I invite you to visit the Church so that he may thank you himself."

If not for the fact that Flamelle had just seen Kette speak so dismissively with not only the local Guildmaster but also the Lord of Laptilla, then she would have probably been stunned by the offer.

The Church naturally isn't so exclusive as Nobility, but meeting with the Reverend Father of a Church as large as Laptilla's is not something that happens every day. Certainly not a private meeting anyway.

However, Flamelle is getting an idea of Kette's personality, so she doesn't find herself too surprised by the response Markus receives.

"I refuse."

"May I ask why?" Markus presses on, frowning slightly at the clearly unexpected refusal.

Flamelle wasn't expecting much of a response. Just something about how Kette is busy or how she just can't be bothered.

It turns out, as if Mistress Kette heard her thoughts about starting to understand her character, Kette decides to exceed all expectations with her response and floor Flamelle once more.

"Because religion is a scam. Your Goddess isn't real and I find the notion of organised religion to be little different to a mercantile organisation except instead of selling products that are actually useful, you only sell words and bondage. The un-fun kind."

There is a long silence following her words that seems to even drown out the bustle of the city around them.

Flamelle has never been exceptionally religious, but she still believes in the Goddess. Everyone does. At least she thought so.

Markus' pinched expression would have probably made her laugh if not for the cause of it leaving her with an expression not too dissimilar.

Both of them notably choose to ignore that last bit of Kette's words.

"Well," Markus eventually responds, sounding incredibly awkward as he does so. "Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, I suppose. Though, I fail to see how you could doubt in the existence of the Goddess when Heaven's existence is a well documented and proven fact."

Flamelle feels the same. It's not like people worship the Goddess just because someone said she was real and everyone should just trust them to not be lying. The Goddess' existence is as close to an indisputable fact as anything else.

Kette rolls her eyes. She's actually starting to seem somewhat annoyed too, which Flamelle already can tell is a rare thing to be expressed by her.

"Your 'Goddess' was probably just some random Mage in the Mythical Era who created Heaven as a joke and then got stuck with having to constantly drain her mana in order to sustain its existence solely because she is being held morally hostage, rather than because she is some benevolent saint. It's not like she speaks to you, is it? Offers you praise?"

Flamelle doesn't think that she has ever heard someone make a theory like that.

For one, what Mage could possibly even sustain Heaven's existence? The mana that must be required for that would be insane. Divine, even. Is her teacher a conspiracy theorist? Like the crazy people who say that the Cataclysms never died and are just wearing the skins of the world's Kings? Or that the world is just some higher being's simulation?

"Then how would you explain the Miracles that I can cast in Her name?" Markus counters, seemingly really getting into what is apparently a debate now and forgetting why he came here. Flamelle kind of wants to leave. "Miracles like [Divine Blessing] or [Divine Light]?"

Kette waves the question away. "Flavour text. Anyone can name anything anything," Kette almost snaps back, also getting far too into this debate than Flamelle would have expected of the previously so aloof woman. "I could invent a Spell that specifically turns dry leaves into wet grass and name the Spell [Divine Transmutation]. That doesn't mean there's anything 'Divine' about it. Your 'Miracles' are just Spells with fancy names, and the only reason you can cast above your ability as a Mage is because you are drawing mana from Heaven instead of your own pool. Clerics are just Mages that can't be bothered to put the effort into learning the proper Spell formulae, just spending your time praying and begging and waiting for a better Mage to do all the hard work for you. Lazy."

...Mistress Kette feels pretty strongly about this, huh?

Flamelle wouldn't have expected it.

Oddly though, this unexpected interaction has made Kette seem more.. is it racist to say human? Flamelle just means that she seems more approachable. Like she is a normal person too. Well, maybe not normal, but whatever.

Markus stands there for a moment, his mouth opening and closing and failing to form words.

Flamelle decides that maybe it is for the best if things end here, before they can actually start shouting at each other about theism in the middle of the street.

"Well it was nice seeing you Markus!" She cuts between the two of them and grabs one of Kette's hands before she can second guess doing so. "But we have to go or we'll miss the rail!"

Her words spoken, Flamelle all but runs away from the awkward situation, dragging her teacher behind her as if Flamelle is the leader here.

Only once they are out of sight of Markus does she slow down and, realising what she'd done, she drops Kette's hand like it burned her.

"I am so sorry for pulling you like that Mistress Kette, I just-" She cuts herself off at Kette's raised palm, ready to be scolded.

Instead, Kette simply reaches up to pat her on the head.

"I shouldn't have started an argument," Kette says, her tone back to its usual aloofness. "The Church is just something of a sore spot for me. However, one part should stick. Consider this your third lesson. The system only records the world as it is, but names are entirely human creations. I wasn't lying earlier."

Kette doesn't wait to prove her point, crouching down to pluck a single leaf from a small plant that was definitely not growing out of the floor a second ago.

It all happens too fast for Flamelle to even say anything about it. She can only watch as a Magic circle appears over the dry leaf, flashes, and turns the leaf into wet grass.

A moment later, Kette reaches a hand up to the air in front of her, where Flamelle knows from experience is where her system interface would be. She watches her teacher pinch the empty air and then pull back, dragging a page of parchment out from the ether in front of her.

The small Elf then turns and hands the parchment to Flamelle. She doesn't need to look at it to guess what it will say, and yet she still finds herself surprised when she reads [Divine Transmutation] written above a Tier 0 Spell that turns dry leaves into wet grass.

"There is nothing that cannot be accomplished with Magic," Kette informs her as she is still reeling from having her worldview shaken again. Something happening far too frequently with Kette. "I can see why the ignorant would call Magic a Divine Miracle, but using the names written in the system as evidence is foolish to the extreme."

Even if Flamelle puts aside everything that she has just heard about the Goddess. Isn't it too extreme to just invent a new Spell just like that? Just to prove a point? Isn't the art of creating new, original Spells supposed to be a highly regarded, complex, thoughtful process?

Even a Tier 0 Spell shouldn't be this easy to invent, right? She didn't even write anything down? And since when could you even pull Spells out of the system like that!? Flamelle obviously knows that one can summon a [Grimoire] full of all the Spells they know, but she's never heard anything about only pulling out a single page!

Eventually however, Flamelle manages to process enough of the recent revelations to decide that she doesn't want to process them any more, and so she stops thinking about it.

Soon enough, they are back to walking in silence, headed for the rail out of the city.

Around them, the bustle only continues to grow. The centennial festival has already begun after all, even if most of the celebrations will be saved for the evenings.

She finds her eyes being pulled to a pair of women dressed up as Kierra Kalashnikova, standing with some other people dressed up as other members of the Hero Party. They are all loosely lined up in front of a stall that says 'Look-a-Like Contest' at the top.

Flamelle supresses the childish yearning within her at the sight.

She's never really been to a proper festival before. Just the small yearly one from her home village, but that basically just amounted to a big shared meal over a big fire in the middle of the village. Nothing exciting.

But this is the centennial Peace Day festival, there's going to be a bunch of activities and exhibitions and stuff.

It seems exciting.

But Mistress Kette must have noticed something, as when her eyes next fell on the smaller woman, Flamelle sees her looking at her from the corner of her eyes.

Flamelle doesn't even get the chance to say anything before Kette's hand is resting on her shoulder.

The world blinks and she is standing on a roof, one of the few flat ones.

Was that [Blink] again? How can she cast it so easily? Not even a circle or incantation.

"Flamelle." Kette says her name in that flat, demanding way that she is starting to realise will likely become familiar.

"Yes?"

"Do you know any illusion Spells?"

"Uh.. No?"

"Mh." Kette nods before reaching into the empty air a second time, pinching and pulling another piece of parchment out of thin air. "Here."

Flamelle accepts the offered parchment and looks down to see an impeccably detailed Spell circle drawn under two big bold words.

[Minor Illusion]

It's not like the Spell itself is really a big deal. It's only Tier 3. But she still finds herself stunned into silence looking at it.

It's like a work of art. I didn't know a Spell circle could even look so... perfect. Is this even still Tier 3?

Just who the hell is her teacher?

Kierra Kalashnikova

Seeing Flamelle so engrossed in [Minor Illusion], Kierra starts to wonder if the girl has even seen a Spell summary before. It's not like this specifically is an impressive Spell.

If she's so flabbergasted by this, then Kierra is honestly worried that Flamelle would pass away if she gave her a better Spell, like [Original Spell - Advent of Theoretical Demise]. Maybe her brain would melt out of her ears?

That's kind of upsetting actually. Kierra truly hopes that Flamelle can reach her level someday. If only so that she can have someone that she can gush about how amazing her Magnum Opus is with.

Is there even anyone else in this world that would be able to read that Spell circle? Could Aerion? Maybe one of her NPCs? Only two of them were actually combat focused though.

Well, whatever.

Kierra shakes the thought away and casts a quick [Clean] on the roof before taking a seat, gaining her student's attention as she does so.

"Study it," she says. "Do not cast it. I am going to have a nap. I will wake in two to three hours. Study the Spell, make note of everything you are unsure of and we will go over it when I wake up. If you can learn the Spell fast enough, then we can enter the look-a-like contest together."

The girl's eyes widen at the offer, and Kierra doesn't fail to notice the childish joy, even as it is immediately overtaken by anxiety.

"But what about the rail?" She asks, hesitantly, almost as if she thinks Kierra will lash out at the question.

"They leave every two hours. We will get the next one. Oh, and if you manage to score higher than me in the look-a-like contest, I will give you a gift."

Child she is, Flamelle's eyes light up at the promise of a gift. Though, she seems pretty excited enough just to study [Minor Illusion].

Does she like the element?

Kierra shrugs the thought away as she moves to lie down and rest her eyes.

She had noticed Flamelle's obvious reluctance to skip out on the festival. Kids are rarely as good at concealing their feelings than they tend to assume. If one cares to look, anyway.

Kierra doesn't really want to have anything to do with this festival, but she knows that the brat wouldn't be able to enjoy herself if she thought she was burdening Kierra by making her wait. The only way to avoid that misunderstanding is to be an active participant. Let Flamelle know that it's fine to enjoy herself.

She's in a hurry to get home, but not that much of a hurry. Not so much that she can't spare a few hours to let a kid form a fun memory. These kinds of things are impactful for a kid. Kierra still remembers all of those happiest moments of her childhood, few and far between as they were.

Also, she really is tired. That's probably part of why she lashed out at that poor Cleric guy. It's not his fault that his stupid religion is dumb and stupid.

Frickin' stupid Devs always thinking they're funny. You never are. Idiots.

She sighs. Whatever, it doesn't matter.

She'll just enjoy her nap, maybe partake in a quick contest, which is bound to be amusing if nothing else, considering everything. Then they can finally board the damn rail and leave.

A twist of her mana pulls her hat forward, letting it rest over her face and block out the sun.

Kierra doesn't dream.

Her eyes open fluidly and she rises to a seated position without a hint of grogginess or anything. It's kind of weird honestly. Just.. waking up. And being awake. Immediately.

The joys of being a walking corpse, she muses to herself.

At least the headache is gone.

"Mistress Kette?" She hears from her side, and she pulls her hat back onto her head as she turns to face Flamelle.

The girl is sitting next to her, bending over the Spell summary. Kierra notes a number of papers surrounding it and covered in scrawled writings, as well as the new position of the sun. Evening is approaching.

Her handwriting is awful, Kierra finds herself noting absently. I'll add it to her lessons.

Since the girl is hardly going to be attending a proper school in the meantime, it only makes sense in her mind that she teach more than just how to be a Mage.

Math, language, science, history—this world's history, not her own. Also philosophy, handwriting—as noted earlier, probably how to cook too and general survival skills. Some psychology and political theory would do her well too, and economics and geography and a lot of biology.

Mentally, Kierra sighs at the workload. But her father always said, if you're gonna do something then do it right or not at all. Not really a healthy mindset if you think about it too hard, since it discourages failure way too much when failure can be good for you.

She shakes thoughts of her father out of her head and turns her attention to Flamelle.

"How is it?" At her question, Flamelle lights up with a blinding smile.

The reaction makes her smile a bit too, because that smile is one that she just understands, down to her soul.

Yeah, Magic is the best, isn't it?

"It's so intricate! I feel like I could improve every single one of my circles just from what I've been able to learn from this! Your Magic is so advanced! And it's nothing like the instructors at the Institute! The Magic they teach is all new formulae, and you can sorta tell that it's new, in that way that everyone's circles has like a feel to them that's entirely personal, and your formulae feel ancient, it's like I'm reading history and the most advanced Magic I have ever seen in my life all at the same time!"

Ancient? Well, I guess am the second eldest living being in this world. Err- unliving being?

Flamelle only stops talking when she runs out of breath, and her face turns a hilarious shade of red once she has air in her lungs again. Kierra can't help but smile and want to tease her.

"Having fun?" Kierra asks her, though she doesn't quite hit the tone she was going for.

Flamelle slumps slightly, her shoulders tensing just so.

"Sorry, I should have been taking it more seriously-" She begins, but Kierra cuts her off.

"Stop. You don't have anything to apologise for. What do you think you have done wrong?"

Flamelle looks about as reluctant to answer as any kid tends to be when it comes to admitting their own faults, even if she hasn't actually done anything wrong.

"Magic isn't a toy," she responds, dully. Sounding like she is reciting the words not for the first time. "Magic is a dangerous tool and should be treated with caution and respect. I should have been taking it more seriously."

Kierra hums thoughtfully at her words, wondering what kind of idiots are teaching at this Institute. It's not like she can't see where they're coming from. Magic can be deadly if not controlled properly. Doesn't mean she will agree with such an ethos.

"But it is fun though, right?" Kierra asks her softly, smiling nostalgically as she thinks of her time in the alpha. "Magic is fun."

Flamelle doesn't react for a second, but then her entire body untenses, relaxing and turning to face her with a small, excited smile, full of wonder. "Yeah," she whispers, her eyes falling down to the circle in front of her. "Magic is so much fun."

A moment of comfortable silence passes on this random rooftop.

"Is it really okay?" Flamelle asks after a moment, her tone hesitant. Looking at Flamelle, Kierra can't help but feel like this is the first time that Flamelle has truly looked at her as a child seeking advice. "Everyone at the Institute always said how you had to treat Magic like a loaded canon."

They have canons now? The hell? Trains are one thing, I can accept that, but firearms? Use Magic! Throw fireballs! Who needs stupid guns!

"I, um. I actually got kicked out of the Institute," Flamelle admits, sounding annoyingly ashamed. "I'm barely even half a Red Robe. I got kicked out because I kept playing with my Magic. They said that I was a danger to everyone around me and that they wouldn't teach me if I wouldn't learn."

Kierra immediately scoffs. It's not even performative in the slightest.

"What kind of idiot wastes their life studying Magic if they do not even enjoy it? Have you ever heard of a painter or a sculptor who pursued their careers out of any reason other than personal passion? Magic is dangerous, but so is fear the mind-killer. Besides, Magic is half dedication and half passion— actually, yeah, pay attention."

Kierra straightens herself, turning to face Flamelle with a somewhat more serious expression. Flamelle immediately straightens her spine, and it does feel good to have such an attentive listener.

"Your fourth lesson. Magic is the act of bringing Order to Chaos. It is the opposite of Martial Arts, which is the act of bringing Chaos to Order. There are three variables at play when I say this. Order is civilisation. Chaos is mana. That is one part. The last is the result of these practices. Battle. Combat. War. Civilisation is Order. War is Chaos. Martial Arts is a bridge between the two. Adding the Chaos of war to the Order of civilisation. The inverse is also true. Magic is the act of adding the Order of civilisation to the Chaos of mana. As a result of this, a true Warrior should find themselves more aligned spiritually with Order, while Mages like us should feel more aligned with Chaos. Do you understand?"

Flamelle nods her head, though she does so slowly and hesitantly. "Uhh, I um. I think so?"

"Have you ever seen how a Warrior trains?" Kierra asks, hoping to help her student understand. If she can shift her mentality now, it'll probably be good for her growth. Though, admittedly, Kierra is kind of just guessing on what feels right.

Flamelle shakes her head. Kierra isn't really surprised.

"They swing a sword. Over and over again. Thousands and thousands of swings. The same thing, over and over and over again. Building up the right muscles, the right muscle memory, the right mindset. Unwavering. It is all so Orderly. Methodical. What about Magic? How often do you find yourself repeating the same action when learning Magic?"

Flamelle starts nodding her head rapidly, seeming to finally understand what Kierra was getting at.

"So, basically.. Just have fun?" Her tone is some mix of casually playful and anxious hesitancy.

Kierra can more or less guess why. The girl feels like she's taking a shot in the dark. She understands the point Kierra was making, but is still nervous about initiating it for the first time.

But she does understand the lesson Kierra was trying to teach. It really is that simple.

So Kierra simply nods her head and smiles. "Do what you want, and make no apologies. That is what it means to be a Mage."

Flamelle relaxes further, seeming relieved, and Kierra notices how the girl's smile seems more genuine now that she really understands Kierra's view. She shouldn't be compartmentalising herself, trying to fit into boxes that other people tell her are proper.

Magic is freedom. You can't be free if your every action is made under the lens of how you are told you should act.

"Other questions?"

"Uh, yeah." Kierra smiles encouragingly, and Flamelle reaffirms herself, confident now that Kierra is actually supporting her in asking whatever questions she might have. "How did you pull this out?" She asks, holding up her Spell summary and shaking it a bit. "I mean, I obviously know how to summon my [Grimoire], but I didn't know you could pull out individual Spells?"

That actually has Kierra tilting her head. "[Grimoire]? What's that?"

Now Flamelle looks as confused as she feels. Is this the first time she's encountered anything related to Magic that she hasn't understood immediately since arriving?

Granted, it's only been a couple of days, but still. This isn't like with the [Magic Cart] Spell where she could just figure it out immediately. She genuinely has no idea what this [Grimoire] is, though she can obviously make some guesses from context clues.

"It's a manifestation of all of the Spells a Mage knows. It's part of the system, you just have to hold you hand over your [Skill List] and say '[Grimoire]'." Flamelle does as she says to show her, and Kierra watches a small book poof into existence once she says the magic word. Though, it kind of seems more like a pamphlet. "Do you really not know?"

Flamelle tenses slightly after asking that, but is quick to untense this time. She's getting more used to speaking freely.

With the explanation given, Kierra can more or less figure out the rest. At first, she was wondering what possible use there could be for doing this, but the answer came pretty quickly.

Legacy.

Using this [Grimoire], one can pass down everything they know. One can create a legacy.

Which is exactly why she had never heard of it, because why the hell would a Player ever care about any of that? There's just no reason any of them would have needed this. Except just for bragging rights, probably.

Curious, Kierra opens her [Status] and holds her hand over her [Skill List].

"[Grimoire]."

A big poof of smoke follows the incantation, immediately followed by a weighty thud.

Silence reigns as both of them turn to stare at the truly excessively large book sitting in front of her.

Kierra mostly just feels amused. Feeling that this is about what she should have expected.

Flamelle however, is staring wide-eyed with her jaw hanging low. Looking forward as if she can't believe what she is seeing.

The book is rather large. Even the pages have a greater surface area than Flamelle's.

If Kierra had to estimate, her [Grimoire] is roughly half as tall as she is standing. Since she's still seated right now, it is actually taller than her.

She can't see what the cover looks like from here.

Kierra feels a deep sense of pride looking at it.

This is, after all, the result of all the effort she put in to earn her equipped Title, [Living Grimoire].

"H-h-how many Spell do you know!?!" Flamelle exclaims, making Kierra's lips twitch.

"I do not know," Kierra answers honestly. She lost count a while ago. "Over ten thousand."

She waves a hand and the book disappears in another poof of air.

"Now, your question," Kierra continues, though she gives Flamelle a moment to get over the sight of her [Grimoire] enough to pay attention. "Your fifth lesson. Magic is the forceful manipulation of Reality. You do not manipulate the world with Magic, you manipulate mana, which then manipulates the world according to your desires. More relevantly, the system interface exists within Reality, so why would Magic be unable to interact with it?"

Kierra is reminded of a particular time when two of her friends spent about twenty minutes arguing about how to run through a trapped corridor, only for one of her other friends to point out the blatant path around it. That kind of expression people make when their perception of the world gets tilted just so, enough for them to realise something that seems so obvious only now that they know it.

"It's high level Magic for the most part," Kierra continues, "So I won't bother going into details. Pulling out Spell summaries is the easiest Spell in that branch of Magic, but even that you won't be able to learn as you are. Maybe once you've passed level 500 you'll be able to figure it out."

It depends on how she advances really. 500 is the first Race advancement after all. Now, despite the Race and Class advancements being called as such, one doesn't necessarily 'advance' every time.

Her encounter with those bandits comes back to mind. Specifically, her analysis of the mage.

Level 643. Second Tier Class, basic Race.

It's a measure of his mediocre talent.

When one hits an advancement, one of three things will happen. Either you will move up to a higher Tier, or you will just get a plus symbol added. Lastly, it is also possible for a side-grade to happen if you're respeccing.

An easy example being that the [Archmage] Class can become available to a Mage when they pass level 1,200. Kierra held that Class for a while. Then, when she surpassed level 1,500, she got [Archmage+]. She got the Title too, because at a certain point, a Class does become Title worthy.

She was honestly kind of expecting to just get [Archmage++] at 1,800, but she ended up with [The Mage] instead. She doesn't see how that can advance further, so she's assuming every advancement she manages to eke out from now on will just be adding more pluses.

Now, getting a plus doesn't mean there's no boost. Every advancement comes with a significant boost to one's abilities. A plus just isn't as good.

That Mage, at level 643, should have gone through two Class advancements and one for Race. That means that if he was in any way talented, he should have had a Third Tier Class and a Second Tier Race.

Instead, he was probably just [Human+] and some basic Class+. There are too many to really say which one. [Mage Adept+] seems most likely, but who knows.

The point however, is that interacting with the system interface requires a certain degree of... weight, in Reality.

Wow, now that she's thinking about it, this is actually really difficult to explain.

In simple terms, one could imagine a living being's soul as a pool of water. A basic Race is just a cup of water, but the higher Tier your Race, the bigger the pool. Kierra's would be the size of an ocean by comparison.

So while there might not be too much of an outward change, rising in the hierarchy of life makes one exist more than anyone below you. There is more metaphysical mass to a person. With that comes a closer connection to existence itself, thus making it easier to make a bridge between oneself and Reality.

Basic Races are too small to interface with something so ingrained with their Reality as the system. One would need to be Second Tier at the lowest.

For Flamelle, that would mean [High Human].

Kierra doesn't plan to let Flamelle encounter any pluses. She wants her student to get the best out of her Race advancements.

[Human], [High Human], [Saint], [Einherjar] and then [Valkyrie]. That is the path that she is preparing for her student. Though, there is room for change. It's not like she knows all the evolution options of Humanity beyond [Saint]. She's just basing this off of her friends.

Of the three Humans in her party, this path seems the best for Flamelle. But this sort of thing really isn't something to be forced, so if the girl finds her own path, then Kierra won't force it. With one exception.

There is technically a path for [Human] evolution into [Seraph], but Kierra will do her best to dissuade that.

After all, it doesn't matter how far one advances, if they choose to be an Angel, then they will always be beneath Kierra. She wants Flamelle to grow into an equal. Maybe even surpass her.

Really, Kierra just wants there to be a Mage capable of killing her in a fair fight.

Is that so much to ask for?

She shakes the thought away and returns her attention to Flamelle and the notes surrounding her.

"Enough about that. Show me what you have learned."

Chapter 9: The Greatest Illusion Is Regret

Flamelle finds her eyes discretely turning to study Mistress Kette. They are both hunched over her notes, focused on the work as they have been for an hour now. However, in this time, Flamelle has found her admiration for the smaller woman rising and rising every minute.

She knew, intellectually, that having the personal tutelage of such a high level Mage, maybe even an Archmage, would be superior to the regular instructors of the Institute. She knew that much.

But somehow, she can't bring herself to believe that any of those Archmages are better teachers than Kette is.

They've been going over every aspect of the Spell, and Kette has explained concepts to her that she has been struggling to understand since she started learning Magic in ways that make it all seem just so blindingly obvious.

It's amazing. There is no thought. No hemming and hawing. Every question or uncertainty that Flamelle voices, Kette has an answer to. She hasn't once needed do consider any of it. She just knows. Immediately. It's like she's talking with a living manifestation of Magic itself. An encyclopaedia of all magical knowledge.

Perhaps that shouldn't surprise her. Not after having seen Kette's Grimoire. She hasn't even heard of ten thousand Spells before.

She can feel herself becoming a better Mage. Improving at a rate that she would have thought impossible just earlier this morning.

She has always admired powerful Mages, so Flamelle had thought highly of Kette ever since she first saw the Elf cast.

But now?

"Flamelle? Are you listening?"

Flamelle snaps out of her thoughts to see Kette staring into her eyes. She blushes slightly at having gotten caught lost in thought.

"Yep! I'm listening!" She answers, making Kette eye her sceptically for a moment.

Luckily for her, Kette simply goes back to teaching instead of saying anything else, and this time Flamelle doesn't let herself get distracted.

Instead, she listens.

She listens as Kette explains complex concepts, as she corrects minor errors in Flamelle's mana control, teaches her little tricks to reduce cast time. She even mixes in some funny anecdotes as she teaches, some of which leave Flamelle's ribs hurting from laughter despite the dull tone with which they are delivered.

Magic has always been interesting. Flamelle has always wanted to study it, and she learned a lot in the Institute. But their lessons were always so strict. All about doing Magic the right way. The safe way. About being serious and not making mistakes.

When Kette first offered to teach her, she figured it would be much the same. Less, even. She assumed she would basically end up working as a maid and getting paid in the occasional brief lesson.

But now?

Flamelle, for the first time since she discovered Magic, Flamelle finds herself having fun being taught about it.

It kind of makes everything feel like a dream. Like if she closes her eyes for too long she will wake up inside of a cell with The Cult or something.

Maybe she still isn't quite over how close she came to winding up with them.

Alas, as with all things, an end soon comes.

"Time is up," Kette says as she rises to her feet, and at Flamelle's look of confusion, she elaborates, "The contest is starting soon. Collect your papers."

Flamelle hurries to obey, shoving all of their notes into her inventory before rising to her feet, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation well up within her as her teacher speaks again.

"Do you believe that you can cast [Minor Illusion] successfully?" She asks, and Flamelle nods with only a slight amount of hesitation.

"Yes, Mistress Kette. But um.. Should I?" At Kette's unimpressed look, she hurries to explain, "I mean, in the Institute, they teach that you shouldn't cast a Spell for the first time until you believe you can do so as perfectly as possible. If you just cast them as soon as you can, then it builds up bad habits..."

She ends up trailing off, because she feels stupid explaining magical theory to Kette. But even if she is nervous, she can't say nothing.

Unexpectedly though, Kette nods her head.

"This Institute of yours is not incorrect to teach this way. If you draw a specific rune incorrectly the first time that you cast a Spell, then that will become your habit and your casting form will remain poor until it is corrected. It is easier to simply ensure that your casting has no faults the first time."

Flamelle nods her head simply because she does not know what else to say. Why does Kette want her to cast this Spell poorly if she thinks it's a bad idea to do so?

Flamelle is at least smart enough to keep silent so that Kette can answer her unasked questions, instead of asking about what is likely about to be explained anyway.

"However," Kette continues, and Flamelle listens attentively. "That is only true up to the level of an Archmage. You are not like the masses that have no need to consider their futures at such heights. If you are going to continue advancing as an Archmage and beyond, then you will inevitably end up casting imperfect Spells and having to correct them later. It is better that you get into the habit of breaking bad habits now, so that you never have to stop growing."

It still kind of blows her away. Mistress Kette's faith in her talent, that is.

She speaks about Flamelle reaching beyond the level of an Archmage as if such a thing is guaranteed.

It's flattering, in a way. A little bit intimidating too.

"Now," Kette continues. "Show me."

Flamelle nods, her throat failing with a sudden surge of apprehension.

This would be the first time she is casting a Spell in front of Kette. A Spell that Kette has personally tutored her on for the past few hours.

She knows that she cannot get it right. Not as well as she could have with even just a few more days to study. She knows that that is the point. That Kette actively wants her to make mistakes so that she can gain experience correcting them.

But...

Despite all of that. Despite what her logical mind is telling her...

There is a large part of Flamelle that just wants to cast the Spell perfectly. A part of her that want to impress her teacher. To show off, to..

Well, it's a little embarrassing, but she just wants to hear Kette praising her again.

Kierra Kalashnikova/Kette

Kierra watches the Magic circle for [Minor Illusion] form in he air before her student with keen eyes.

She almost sighs as she notices what she expected she would.

Flamelle is simply too talented.

So Kierra discretely sends a tiny amount of her own mana into Flamelle's Spell circle and subtly alters a couple of the runes. Twisting them just so to make them ever so slightly off.

It takes longer to level up the higher your level is. Because of this, in the early levels, whenever a Spell stops being useful to you, you can just learn a new Spell from a higher Tier.

But past level 1,200 that stops being the case. Advancement slows down, and instead of learning new, stronger Spells, one needs to start farming for Mastery levels.

After all, every level of Mastery basically just raises a Spell's performance by a Tier. Obviously, this does mean that it is far easier to raise Mastery in lower levelled Spells, but it is still important.

It is also part of why it is better to specialise in the early levels and then branch out in the latter. Because every single Spell you know could be added to your main kit with enough Mastery.

Kierra is actually a prime example of this, as her most used Spell is a Tier 4 Spell that she has 19 levels of Mastery on. Her friends used to make fun of her for it, but she thinks they only did so because they got mad at her for making fun of them for losing to a Tier 4 Spell.

So, translating from a game into reality, what Kierra is doing here is basically just trying to get Flamelle into the habit of farming Mastery levels now, instead of later.

The Spell finishes forming soon enough. The cast time having only been so long since it is a first time.

"[Minor Illusion]!" Flamelle incants.

The circle flashes, and then Flamelle changes.

A ripple in the air passes over her form, transforming the orange-haired Human girl into a Demon child.

Her hair shifts into a slightly off-white. Two enormous horns—grey, turning blue on the edges—jut from the back of her head and wrap around her skull like an enlarged halo. Her blue-green eyes turn red as black markings swirl around them.

Her clothes also change, going from that classic newbie adventurer look to a much more simple off-white toga. The kind of clothing that hasn't been worn for thousands of years.

She looks like a knock off version of Kierra Kalashnikova.

The colours are all slightly off, and the horns are noticeably not real upon any real inspection. They're even phasing through the hair at the back of her head instead of parting it.

But for a first cast of [Minor Illusion]? With Kierra actively hindering her, if only very slightly? Well, it's not bad. About what she would have expected.

But Kierra isn't stupid. She knows that children are fragile. That they are not mature enough to understand that living within expectations is not necessarily a bad thing. So she isn't going to just nod her head at the expected result and move on.

Instead, Kierra reaches a hand up and pats Flamelle on the head.

"Good job."

The words, simple as they may be, cause Flamelle to light up with obvious pride. The sight of it makes Kierra smile a bit herself.

Children should be praised when they succeed, even if their accomplishment is nothing beyond what was expected of them.

Kierra doesn't want her student to make it to the peak while stuffed full of angst and psychological issues. Better she be mentally healthy, and thus, Kierra must continue to praise her.

She doesn't want Flamelle to end up like her, after all.

Flamelle deserves to be better than that.

"U-um, Mistress Kette?" Kierra blinks in Flamelle direction at the hesitant words. She sees the girl looking at her with her head tilted down, nervous. "W-we don't have to actually join the competition.."

Kierra takes in the sight of her student, wearing Kierra's apparel and sneaking furtive glances down where people dressed as 'Heroes' are gathering together with obvious want.

It's pretty clear that the girl is just trying to appease. But Kierra isn't so cruel as to not allow Flamelle to have a single fun memory, even if it's just something silly and pointless like this.

Sometimes, silly and pointless is just what a person needs.

And really, the whole point of being a Mage is the freedom to do what you want, follow your own whims.

So Kierra does not respond with words. Instead, she simply dispels her [Change Form] Spell and pulls her hat off of her head.

Though her body fails to emote it, Kierra feels a deep sense of amusement as Flamelle's eyes all but light up with stars as she stares at Kierra's very real horns. Not that she knows that part.

Kierra doesn't really feel any anxiety about showing her true face like this. Not in these circumstance anyway. She's heard of plenty of instances of celebrity actors losing their own look-a-like contests before. No one is going to look at her and make the obvious connection.

Still, just to be extra sure, she casts [False Illusion] over herself anyway. It is a Spell that does nothing but pretend to be an illusion. Which basically means that if any skilled Mages look at her, they will get the sense that they are looking at an illusion, even if they aren't.

"C'mon, let's go."

Kierra comes to a stop at the building's edge and turns to see Flamelle still staring at her, unmoving.

The girl notices her attention and startles, but Kierra just holds a hand out in her direction.

"Don't hesitate now."

Flamelle blinks oddly before beaming another one of her smiles that shine like the sun and promptly hopping over, taking Kierra's hand with poorly disguised glee.

Kierra just shakes her head at the enthusiasm and turns back to the streets below.

Her mind turns to the [Magic Cart] Spell she has recently learned as a method of getting them down without just teleporting again. But that Spell works by locking its position to something relative to the caster.

Makes it good for carrying things, but not so much for a controlled descent.

Kierra could naturally just cast [Mass Fly] or some similar Spell, but well, [Magic Cart] is already on her mind.

So she just uses that as a base, makes a few modifications to it and simply invents a new Spell on the spot.

The ping of her system interface telling her to name the new Spell is noticed and ignored, as Kierra already has the perfect name in mind.

"[Magic Carpet]."

With her words, a near one to one replica of the carpet from the original Aladdin movie appears in the air right in front of them, the purple colours swirling with waves of mana.

Kierra steps forward, pulling Flamelle with her onto the carpet before willing it to descend into the streets below.

There are a fair number of people out and about, a large amount of whom are dressed up. But the square is still rather large, so there is plenty of space for the crowd. Still, a few people do change course on their approach, leaving a small clear space for them to land in.

The display of Magic and their appearance barely gets a second glance from most of the crowd. Though, with the festive atmosphere, they receive a lot more smiling nods than dismissive glances.

Kierra ignores all of that as she walks up to the stall she'd seen people signing up at, half dragging Flamelle from where she is all but 'ooh'-ing and 'aah'-ing at the other cosplayers walking about.

"Ah! Well hello there little ones! Are you here to join the coopetition?" The guy behind the stall greets them with enthusiasm.

Little ones? Kierra can't help but parrot in her mind.

Why did she make her character look like a child again?

Right, dramatic aesthetic. It kind of falls apart when she is entering a dumb competition instead of sitting on a throne or something.

Whatever.

"Yeah. Is there a fee?" Kierra asks, getting a friendly laugh in return.

"No, no fee. There isn't a reward either, this is just for fun," the man informs them, face full of friendly smiles. "Just give me a name to jot down and go stand over with them and wait to be called on."

Kierra follows his finger with her eyes to see a large group of cosplayers and then simply shrugs.

"Kette," she says, pointing at her own face before then pointing to her side. "Flamelle."

The man jots their names down quickly before returning his attention to them. "Your timing is pretty good, the competition will start in about twenty. Just go join the rest and wait for your name to be called."

"Hm." Kierra acknowledges him with a nod and turns to see Flamelle barely restraining herself from hurrying over to the other cosplayers.

It's cute how eager she is.

However, Kierra is quick to find out that she had rather poorly estimated how this whole thing would go.

In her mind it would have at most been just a bit amusing. All these people are dressing up as herself and her friends as if they were celebrities after all, that's pretty funny. But she's only doing it so Flamelle could form a nice memory from it.

It just wasn't a big deal in her mind. Just a couple of hours she could easily zone out.

A harmless waste of time for the kid to enjoy.

But twenty minutes later, she is realising the mistake she made as she finds herself struggling to even breathe, her throat and chest clenching too tight for air to pass through. If not for how inexpressive her new body is, she would probably be hyperventilating too.

She thought it would be just a little bit funny.

Instead, she is now standing here, surrounded by the faces of her friends—her most important people, but just off.

It's like the uncanny valley. Everywhere she turns, she sees a mimicry of her friends, and every time—every time, there is that split-second of recognition. Every time, from the corner of her eye she will think she sees her friend, only to turn and see that their face is wrong.

She really did think this would just be a joke, but it is only now that it is really hitting how she will never see her friends again.

They might not be dead, she knows that they are just back in her original world—she refuses to differentiate them as a 'real' and 'game' world. She is living here, thus they are both real.

But even if they are still alive, that does not change how they are not here, with her. How she won't ever see them again, her most dear companions with whom she has spent more time with than her actual family.

It's just...

It has only been a few days. It's nothing new to go a few days without talking to at least one of them. They would all have weeks where they'd just be so busy grinding that they'd be too grouchy to want to talk.

But they have been her near constant companions for near on a decade. About a third of her actual life.

She has never gone longer than a few days without at least a good morning or night message from her friends.

Yet now, all because of some stupid costume competition, she is being forced to recognise that for all that her friends still live, they may as well be dead. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Kierra is the one who died.

Great, now she is thinking about how they will react to her death, assuming that her original body died when she woke up here.

She wonders if any of them will cry.

She wonders if she even wants them to.

The worst of it is those dressed up as Fly, the Rogue of her party. They're all smiling confidently and acting suave, like the archetypical Rogue would.

She hates it.

Fly was a coward. That's why he wanted to be a Rogue in the first place. He maxed his stealth as high as it could go, all so that no one could see him. Whenever they hung out with people outside of the party, he would always just silently slink away and straight up leave without telling anyone. It was incredibly annoying.

She hates it.

She hates them.

She misses her friends.

"Cute kid." Kierra startles out of her morose thoughts by a sudden voice to her side, and she hates the way she still manages to see Yeveline's face in this stranger, even as the voice registers wrong. "Yours?"

Kierra follows the stranger—dressed in soft, regal robes decorated with greens in the style of Elven royalty so similar to Yeveline's main equipment set—as they nod their head down to where Flamelle is rather excitedly talking among a group of four girls all dressed up as Kierra.

It takes her another moment to properly comprehend what this stranger is asking her, because she is already getting used to the fact that she looks like a 14 year old.

The false-Elven woman—because those ears are not real, must have read something in even Kierra's aloof expression as she lets out an amused huff and continues without waiting for Kierra to answer.

"I've spent a lot of time in Elf country," she explains, amusement plain. "I'm used to you long-lived folk by now. You might look like a kid, but you're looking at that girl over there like a mother looks at her daughter, so I assumed. Am I off?"

...Did she just get insulted? Kierra honestly can't tell, but it feels like there might have been an insult in there somewhere..?

Kierra pulls her eyes properly away from Flamelle to actually get a proper look at the smiling woman talking to her.

On the outside, she looks nearly the same as Yeveline. Golden hair, forest green eyes, pale skin and that kind of refined, aristocratic facial structure so common among Elves.

But Kierra is The Mage, she can naturally see through the illusion and into the woman beneath.

The clothes are genuine at least, unlike Flamelle who is faking the outfit. But her features, or lack thereof, are distinctly Human. Short brown hair, a number of freckles. Real girl-next-door kind of vibes. Cute in a homely kind of way.

"She's my student." Kierra answers before the silence can really get awkward. "It's new."

"Yeah? First time taking on a student?"

Kierra considers the overly friendly woman's question for a moment. She decides to go with her Lore being true, rather than the knee-jerk denial.

"No. I have taught before. Flamelle and I only met recently."

"For real?" The woman seems genuinely surprised by that before letting out a brief laugh. "Well, you seem quite fond of her already then. She must be something special. Or are you just a bleeding heart~?"

Kierra eyes the smirking woman briefly, but her words only feel playful, so even if she doesn't really like talking to someone pretending to be her friend, she answers regardless.

"Flamelle is incredibly talented."

"Heeeeh~? I bet. That's a pretty impressive illusion for someone her age. Flamelle you said? I'll have to remember the name. I'm sure she'll go far with such an impressive teacher." The woman's words have Kierra eyeing her again, to which she only chuckles once more. "Not to brag, but I'm actually a pretty strong Adventurer. I've also spent a lot of time in Elf country, and I've made a lot of friends. Yet not only can I not see through your illusion, but you've also got eyes like my Titled friends. Hah! You don't see me as a threat at all, do you?"

"Should I?"

"Pfffhahahaha! Ahh~ I guess not, eh? Hehehe!"

Kierra simply stares as this strange woman laughs herself silly, finding it rather odd. Most people would tend to be upset at having their own weakness pointed out, not delighted. But Kierra is getting the feeling that this woman is simply the kind of person that struggles to make enemies.

Perhaps in normal circumstance, Kierra wouldn't have had any problem with that, but dressed up as Yeveline? She kind of hates it.

Yeveline was awful at making friends. It's just wrong.

It's all wrong.

"My name's Chisato by the way," the woman speaks again, drawing Kierra back out of her morose thoughts. "Orichalcum ranked Spellsword, nice to meet'cha."

Now that introduction actually does get Kierra's full attention.

Not that it could be odd to see someone so European looking wearing the name Chisato, which would hint to a person born in what was basically this world's Asia, countries like the Akitsushima Dominion. Because that can easily be explained away by having one parent from another nation and then having her first Racial Advancement exemplify those traits over the Aki ones.

No, what grabs Kierra's attention is the Class Chisato claims to have. [Spellsword] was a very rare class that Kierra herself almost spec'd into before [Archmage], since it fits with her ethos for Mages by combining Magic casting with Martial Arts.

After all, a Mage should fight in close quarters!!

Kierra ended up speccing into a more Magic focused class, because why put stats into STR and AGI when you can just boost your INT and pump Body Reinforcement instead?

Still, it's a very strong and well balanced Class, which makes Chisato rather interesting.

"Kette," Kierra replies after a moment, eyeing and ignoring Chisato's offered hand.

Chisato notices but simply retracts her hand without mentioning anything or dimming her smile.

"Kette then," Chisato nods with her words before casting her gaze out at the throngs of people bustling about, cheering and laughing and filling the air with noise. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it?"

Chisato must have seen the lack of comprehension on Kierra's face as she gestures widely to everything around them. "Y'know, the whole thing? I just think it's an incredible story, and love the Legend they've become. Hehe, I guess I'm a bit of a fan of the Heroes. My mother used to tell me stories about them every night before bed. I love how even a hundred years later, the Heroes are still bringing people together, y'know?"

Kierra doesn't know.

"I've been absent," she says. "I have not heard these stories."

Chisato lets loose a low whistle before grinning down at her. "You Elves sure are something else, I couldn't imagine sleeping through so much history." Maybe coming from someone else, those words might have sounded insulting, but with Chisato they just feel playful. "You really don't know the story?"

"I understand the general facts. There were Cataclysms, then the Heroes killed them and saved the day."

Chisato snorts a laugh at her bland explanation. "That might be the most blasé way I've ever heard it described. The story is usually told more grandiosely. Of how the Seven Cataclysms had forced all the nations of the world to come together in a grand alliance, and how even then, it wasn't enough to win. Not until the Great Mage, Kierra Kalashnikova came out of the woodwork and gathered the five greatest talents the world has ever seen into a Legendary Party that slew the Cataclysms one after the other until their tragic final battle against the Burning Apostle. It's a lot more dramatic explained like that, no?"

A "Hm," is all Kierra gives back. Because in truth, she kind of hates that too.

It's the dramatisation of Legends that has their original character die as positive traits are enhanced and negative ones reduced.

No one wants their historic Heroes to be cowardly men or caustic women, and so all these strangers dress up as her friends without having a single clue as to their personalities.

"So, which of the Heroes did you know?" Chisato abruptly asks, her tone forcefully casual even as Kierra's mind screeches to a halt.

Chisato doesn't meet her eyes. Just continues looking out at the celebrating people with a smile that feels more sombre than before. Warm, in an understanding, admiring kind of way.

"It wasn't too hard to guess," she says without looking back. "This is a festival you know? I only came to talk to you because you seemed to be the only one not enjoying yourself. Thought I might be able to help you relax. I think that worked for the most part since you don't look like you're dying anymore, but you still seem sad looking at everyone playing dress-up. Personally sad."

That makes some sense. She was wondering why this strange woman started a conversation with her in the first place.

Chisato turns to face her then. "I'm not going to pressure you into saying anything or anything like that, but talking to a stranger can be surprisingly therapeutic. So the offer is open, if you want it."

Chisato doesn't speak up again, allowing them to lapse into a surprisingly comfortable silence. Kierra's eyes find Flamelle again as she mulls over Chisato's words. The girl has recast her illusion to stop the horns from phasing through the hair, likely on the advice of the other girls around her.

Flamelle genuinely seems to be glowing with joy, practically buzzing as she bounces between conversations with those equally excitable around her.

"I miss them." Kierra finds herself speaking without even really meaning to. The words just sort of spilling out, and she finds herself pushing back the feeling of tears just from actually saying it out loud.

She considers—too late—for a moment if she should even take up the offer. If she wants to. But Chisato isn't someone she's likely to even see again, so ultimately, why not?

Or maybe that's all a rationalisation, and she just wants her feelings to exist outside of her mind.

Chisato doesn't speak, and Kierra appreciates the silence.

"It's all wrong," she admits after a while. "Yeveline was nothing like you. It just feels like I'm watching my friends die and get replaced by caricatures of their best features."

Kierra clicks her tongue.

"Heroes." She says the word like it insulted her. "None of them had such a personality. They were a band of dysfunctional idiots waiting to die. There was nothing Heroic about them. But they were my friends, and I just.. I just really want to see them again."

It's not an easy thing to admit, not out loud anyway. It does help that Chisato is a stranger, one who seems more amused than anything by her description of the so-called 'Heroes'.

It's easier, knowing that this conversation will be a one and done kind of thing. That she can say what she wants and it just won't matter.

Chisato doesn't respond right away, and they spend some time simply people watching.

Kierra can admit that she feels a little bit lighter after saying her feelings aloud. Not that she doubted she would. She did take some psych courses over the years.

Eventually though, the call goes out for the Yeveline cosplayers to gather and Chisato lets out a sigh.

"I can't imagine what it must be like to live long enough for your memories to become history," she says as she takes a step away, only to pause and continues talking over her shoulder. "There isn't really anything I can say, or advice I can give. Life just sucks sometimes, and sometimes there aren't answers. So instead, all I can do is ask you one thing."

Chisato meets her eyes one last time, wearing a sad smile that tells Kierra that she at least understands the feeling of loss, if nothing else.

"Would you rather forget them?"

Kierra watches Chisato fade into the crowd, falling into an easy conversation almost immediately. She doesn't move for a moment, just thinking on the words.

Would you rather forget.

Would she?

It's hardly even a question. She knows the answer as soon as she asks it.

Those years are the most precious in her memory, of her closest people. She would never let them go, no matter what happened. Even if every memory with them just makes their absence hurt even more.

Kierra lets out a long sigh.

Today has not gone at all how she was expecting it to.

But whatever, she is self aware enough to know that today has been good for her. Addressing and confronting things that upset you might suck, but it's always good for you in the end, and she isn't dense enough to not notice how she feels a slight bit lighter.

So she isn't going to complain, even if this really isn't how she was expecting her day to go.

Kierra's eyes find Flamelle once more and, noticing her gaze, the girl briefly turns and sends a happy wave her way before returning to whatever inane conversation she is having.

Another sigh leaves her.

She's going to have to find whoever is doing the ranking here and convince them to put Flamelle above her. Even though Kierra obviously looks more like Kierra than Flamelle does.

Flamelle is just too happy. She promised the girl a gift if she scores higher than her, and now she just can't bear to mar this memory with the minor negativity of missing out on a prize.

She also has to decide what the prize is even going to be.

A final sigh leaves her.

Who knew that taking on a student would be such a pain?

Despite having that thought, it is with a slight smile that Kierra sets off to find an organiser.

Mittel Lynsil

"Retired life not working out for ya?"

Mittel scowls under her hooded cloak as she steps fully into the lonely booth, unsurprised to see this place near empty even with the festivities ongoing. It is supposed to be hidden after all.

Which is why she does not remove her hood as she seats opposite a dark haired woman who, while dressed casually, still manages to give off a dangerous air. It's like she's projecting her Rogue Class. Mittel would scoff at them if she didn't already know their character.

"Do you need me to remind you what I said will happen if you insult my husband?" She all but hisses back, keeping her voice low enough to not be overheard, even if it's a pointless precaution here. "I am not coming out of retirement."

Malerie, the main contact in Laptilla, lets out a derisive snort before smirking, looking down her nose at Mittel.

"Brat's are always so sure of themselves," she says. Pointedly. "As if that 'husband' of yours won't just die in a hundred year-"

Malerie pauses her words, leaving the two of them staring into one another's eyes in silence. Mittel's expression glaring with cold anger even as Malerie remains calm, simply smirking back at her, even with a thin blade of ice pressing against her jugular.

Despite the blatant threat to her life, Malerie just rolls her eyes and lets out a small amused breath.

"'Retired,' she says. You could'a fooled me, Ice Devil. 'Specially what with you coming here of all places. So how about instead of throwing a little hissy fit and poking me with knives, you just tell me what it is you want?"

Mittel glares for a moment longer before retracting her threat when it becomes clear how unthreatened Malerie is by it.

"I am retired," she reiterates, "But I am still loyal. My husband met a passing Elf yesterday."

Mittel half expected Malerie to interrupt with something mocking, but perhaps she is being to bias and underestimating her professionalism. It's pretty obvious that she is going to expand on her words after all.

"He described her as a mysterious, but incredibly powerful Mage." She can tell that Malerie is still waiting for this to be anything she has to care about, and so she doesn't wait to give what brought her out here in the first place. "A Mage who introduced herself as Kette."

She can see the exact moment her words register in the way Malerie's eyes widen. The way she almost flinches backwards, mouth parting slightly with unspoken words.

And then the instinctive reaction is over and all hints at playfulness, or of the scoundrel mask she wears for this job disappear. Leaving behind only unflinching attention behind severe eyes that leave Millet straightening in spite of herself.

"You are certain?" She asks, her voice lacking any and all of its previous inflection. Sounding instead as a proper Elf, noble and unwavering.

Never before has it been more clear how adept Malerie is at wearing her masks than now, witnessing as she discards her personality as if it is a change of clothes.

Millet doesn't let her unease show. Instead, she simply nods her head and holds a hand out, palm up.

"I took this from his mind as he slept," she admits, hiding her shame at the invasive act, as she projects an image from her palm. An image that is simply a still of a woman's face that they can both easily find familiar.

"That is all I will do for you," Millet continues as the image fades away. "There is nothing more I or my husband can tell you, and you will not need me for anything that someone else couldn't do."

"Are you sure?" Malerie asks, speaking with what almost sounds like gentle concern, completely at odds with her precious character. "You know what this could mean. You would give that up?"

"Yes." She does not hesitate. "I will pray for you, for everyone, but I do not have to be with you to believe, and I think She would want us to follow our own happiness. My happiness is with my husband."

Malerie holds her eyes for a moment before nodding, seemingly finding whatever it is she was looking for.

"If that it your choice."

She really should have left that at that, but she just couldn't help herself from speaking up.

"Not going to mock my decision?"

Her words are challenging, but instead of the usual response, Malerie simply smiles a sad smile at her.

"We were all young once." She lets the simple sentence hang for a beat, and Millet wonders if this is the first time she is seeing Malerie's true face. "Just do not forget that we will always be here to catch you when you fall."

Malerie's words are spoken with only soft understanding and genuine care, and Millet..? She really just does not know how to respond to that.

Not when it is Malerie saying it.

So she chooses not to, and instead just rises from their booth, pulling down on her hood as she does to ensure no one sees her face.

"Goddess be with you, Malerie." She doesn't wait for a response before turning and leaving, but even then, she doesn't fail to catch her words being parroted back to her.

"Goddess be with you, Millet."

A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!

I really wasn't expecting this chapter to go how it went.

It was supposed to just be fluffy fun times, but apparently I forgot that I am dogshit at writing emotional crap cuz I am a broken human with emotions that don't work. So it ended up philosophical instead.

Tho, maybe my entire writing career is just an excuse to rant philosophy at strangers online. Seems to be a theme in my fics to have random moments of introspection n' shit lol.

Chapter 10: Call Me Ms. Frizzle The Way I Teach In Da Magic Bus ^-^

Watching Flamelle walk beside her, or perhaps skip would be more accurate with how she seems to be bouncing with childish joy, Kierra finds herself glad that she went along with that whole diversion.

Sure, it sucked for her personally, but she's an adult, it's not that bit of a deal. Worth it, considering the near infectious nature of Flamelle's happiness.

The girl didn't win, naturally, but that wasn't the point in the first place. She got to have some fun, and it'd have been cruel to deny her of that. It is perhaps the most important lesson that Kierra wishes to impart on her disciple.

The purpose of being a Mage is to enjoy yourself freely.

Everything else comes second.

Still, Kierra doesn't wish to dally any longer. Certainly not when she saw some effigies of the seven Cataclysms being ferried around. She might end up doing something unwise if she were to see some among their number.

Most of the Cataclysms she loved, especially Vielduine. They were incredibly fun to fight against. But some of them? Some of them were so damn annoying that she and her friends would often end up either in a shouting match or crying after failing over and over.

Those are not pretty memories.

She she simply took the glowing Flamelle and made haste for the train, or rail, whatever. That it is so late does not stop the train, and really it isn't too late. Granted, she is an addicted gamer, so her idea of a healthy sleep schedule is likely not accurate, but it isn't even midnight yet.

The train station is naturally not all that busy, both because of the time and likely because everyone is out enjoying the festivities. So it isn't at all difficult to find the one she presumes to be the ticket master and begin their approach.

The man notices them easily enough and straightens from the slouch he had settled into, daydreaming. The classic customer service smile alights his face, and his voice snaps Flamelle out of her own little world that she had been in.

"Hello there, would you like to purchase a ticket?"

The urge to say 'General Kenobi' was strong, but her throat caught and she missed the moment. Her grandfather used to say that every single time anyone said hello there to him. It was apparently from some old movie, but she was always too busy in Free World Online to watch movies.

Okay, well, technically that's a lie. She did watch plenty of movies and stuff, it's just that she did all of that inside of the game with her friends, or just with online watch parties. Basically, if she wasn't playing the game, it was rare and only when she was either hanging out with her friends elsewhere online, sleeping, making a video on the game to buy in-game items, or doing the necessities.

"Yes."

The ticket guy stares at her kind of awkwardly at her bland response. An awkwardness that grows in the few seconds of silence that follows before the man speaks up again.

"Which ticket type would you like to purchase?"

Ah, it's one of those things. These trains must really just be an accepted part of life now, huh? Meaning that she did the equivalent of going into a fast-food place and saying 'yes' when they asked what she wanted to eat.

She can't see a menu here though.

"What are the options?"

He looks at her strangely, as if everyone should know what kind of tickets are available.

Kierra honestly finds it kind of fascinating. One can tell so much about a nation's culture and more just from simple interactions like this. The way he's acting implies that the specific ticket types available have been so for at least the majority of his life, else he wouldn't find her lack of knowledge so odd.

It also tells her that either the Kingdom of Laptalia doesn't get much international tourism from long-lived Races like the Elves she is disguised as, or that even Elves and Demons and Dwarves and everyone in-between are all also completely used to the rails. Kierra finds the latter option unlikely though.

Which means there isn't a lot of international movement these days. At least, not from Elves and the like. She lacks the information to make more informed guesses though, and this is all speculation, but it's still interesting to think about.

"Well, there are a number available," the clerk answers. "Economy class is available from only one Silver, and now would be a good deal, as the rail is mostly empty outbound with the festival going on, so plenty of legroom. Business is available from three silver, affording more spacious seating. First class is available from one Gold and finally the Luxury Suite is available for two Platinum."

She kind of got the gist when he started with Economy class. She hadn't expected it to just be the normal system she's used to. Though, he only mentioned the Luxury Suite after giving her robe a surreptitious once over. Apparently he deemed her wealthy looking enough to bother saying anything.

Kierra nods her head once. "Two tickets for Luxury then."

Flamelle lets out a little gasp beside her that is ignored, and even the clerk's eyes widen slightly in surprise before he moves on, his smile a lot more genuine than a moment ago.

"Of course! I will get that ready for you now then!"

Something tells her that he gets paid on commission.

As he moves behind his little counter to start doing something or other, Kierra feels Flamelle tug on her robe lightly and turns to see the girl staring at her with wide eyes.

"Mistress Kette," she whispers. "Is it worth it to spend two Platinum on tickets? I've never even seen a Platinum before."

Is her student poor?

Wait, is a Platinum a lot?

"It's just four Platinum."

"You could buy a house with that!" Flamelle rapidly whisper-shouts back, making Kierra raise a brow.

"A good house?"

Flamelle freezes a little awkwardly. "Uh, well, no? But still! It's too much for a rail ticket!"

Maybe. If it's enough to buy a house, even a bad one, that would definitely constitute as overpriced or a train ride. That doesn't really matter though, because Kierra had millions of Platinum last she checked. Unless her account has been emptied of course, but she is sure the royalty of the world would be willing to give her back what is hers if she were to simply ask nicely.

Instead of saying any of that, Kierra simply pats the girl on the head and ruffles her hair a little.

"I told you, I would treat you well. Money and expenses are no longer things you need to waste time thinking about."

The clerk comes back then with two tickets and she hands over four Platinum coins in exchange for them. Kierra has long become used to having too much money to know what to do with and just buying the most expensive options available.

Free World Online was a pretty realistic game in most aspects. Which means that you can't exactly find a vendor selling a 'God-Killing Sword of Hellfire +100' for some Gold. No, equipment at her level is no different from strategic weaponry. Her main equipment probably has a higher relative value than a nuclear bomb.

Which means that for high level Players like her, money became mostly useless, as it was no longer a vector to getting better equipment. So they'd reach a point where their money would flow like water, without a single care for how much they are spending.

Well, Celestium is valuable enough that it could purchase good equipment, but that's Celestium, it's an exception.

Her friends used to all make a game out of stealing Celestium from one another, usually to excessive retaliation.

Fly got the worst of the retaliation, what with him being the party Rogue. They all knew he wasn't responsible, being too cowardly to steal from one of the five people who could do something about it.

But it was just really funny to blame Fly every time anything went missing and beat him up for it.

Kierra finds her mood fluctuating at the memories before that Chisato's words come back to her and her emotions settle. Sure, their loss hurts, but that hurt cannot compare to the happiness that they bring her.

Kierra shakes those heavy thoughts away as they enter the Luxury Suite, the door only opening after eating their tickets.

Stepping into the carriage—cart? She can never remember the terminology—Kierra finds the room to be about what she would have expected.

Instead of rows of seating, there are two spacious lounge areas, one on each side. The far side has twin sofas facing one another, backs against the wall with a table in the centre. Clearly the social side, as the other end has two, more private booths instead, while the centre of the room is empty save for a table buffet on either side.

Naturally, everything looks expensive. From silks to gold lining and crystal glasses. It's certainly different to experience this kind of excessive wealth in person, but it's not that much of a leap from the immersion of the game, so she isn't all that impressed. Not like Flamelle, who steps in with a wide-eyed expression on her face.

There are some somewhat impressive Enchantments woven into the carriage, enough that she doubts anything below level 1,000 would be able to break in before the Spells run out of juice. that said, anything over 1,000 could break in with a bit of time and effort, so Kierra is more interested in the occupants of the suite.

At the far end, in the social lounge, is a gaggle of hoity-toity types. Nobles. She means Nobles. Well, she's assuming they are Nobles anyway, just from the gauche clothes and accessories.

There are a couple of brats with them too, but for the most part, they all seem crowded around one fat dude, so he's probably the highest ranking Noble here, making the rest his hangers-on.

Oddly, Kierra actually feels more comfortable in the presence of these sycophants than she did around that Prince Charming wannabe at the Guild. At least these ones are conforming to her mental stereotyping. Unlike that Aryan ideal trying to convince her that he's not a living cancer.

Other than them, there is also a guy to her left in the more private booths that just seems totally out of it. He's fully collapsed into his booth, head lolled back, arms splayed wide and mouth half open as he quietly snores away.

While his clothes are also high quality, they are different from the Nobles in that they are leather armour instead of fancy silks. From looking at him, she believes he is a Ranger, and so she looks around briefly, but sadly does not spot any of his pets.

Most of the Rangers she's met have tended to Tame at least one cute beast to keep as a pet, and they rarely travel without them by their side. It's just a shame this guy isn't the same. Kierra likes cute monsters.

She should have got an Owlbear when she had the chance.

Eh, whatever.

The Nobles' attention falls on them at their entrance, but Kierra ignores them and guides Flamelle to the empty booth.

After taking a moment to get settled in opposite sides of the one booth, Kierra's attention returns to her student.

It's pretty late by now, but not too late, and the train—rail, whatever—will take a good few hours before reaching the capital. Though, they might have to take a diversion somewhere along the way as well.

So now wouldn't really make a great time to start a proper lesson, since Flamelle will be needing to get some shut-eye in about two hours, maybe less. Kierra obviously isn't familiar with the girl's sleeping patterns yet.

Better to start a lesson in the morning. That way, she can focus on a specific and narrow subject for the entire day. Kierra feels like that's the best way to go about this, considering just how many subjects she plans to teach Flamelle.

The girl's lessons will start in proper only once Kierra has visited her home and got all her chores sorted, like talking to the King, or someone important enough about FWO's sequel. Though obviously she won't phrase it like that. Only after that will she truly be free of obligation and ready to devote all her time to teaching Flamelle. That's part of why she was so willing to let the girl have some fun today, as she is going to be worked hard later.

It's going to be such a pain~. Teachers really do deserve those raises they never get. The ones that actually try anyway.

So instead of starting a lesson, Kierra has a better idea. After all, Flamelle is still owed a gift.

Her eyes turn to her system interface, specifically her Skill list, and she recalls the feeling of pulling out her Grimoire. Obviously, pulling the whole thing out would be a bit much, but even if she has only done so once, she is The Mage, she can figure out alternatives.

Under Flamelle's watchful eye, Kierra holds a hand out to the system and intones a simple phrase.

"[Restricted Grimoire: 6th]."

In a puff of smoke, a massive book appears and thunks against the table between them.

It's obviously not as large as her full [Grimoire], but even limited to Spells up to the 6th Tier, it still has over a thousand pages. There are far more weak Spells than there are strong ones after all.

If she were to estimate it, less than one percent of her Spells are 20th Tier or higher. Probably ten percent or so are over Tier 15.

"I said I would give you a gift if you beat me in the contest," Kierra speaks up into Flamelle's open-mouthed stare. "This contains every Spell I know up to the 6th Tier. Pick one you like, and I will teach it to you."

It takes Flamelle a moment to get over her apparent shock before she seems to comprehend Kierra's words and visibly flinches.

"W-what!? Y-you're giving me your Grimoire!?"

"Is that so shocking?"

"Yes!" Flamelle pauses, realising her overreaction and shyly pushes herself back into her seat and starts over, at a more reasonable tone this time. "Yes. Mistress Kette, a Grimoire is the deepest essence of a Mage. Allowing someone else to hold your Grimoire is a.. uhm... An intimate gesture. The kind of thing only done between family or lovers."

Kierra absorbs that knowledge and simply shrugs it away. "Culture changes all the time. You are both my student, thus making it counterintuitive to restrict my knowledge from you, and weak, thus making it impossible for you to steal anything from me. Take it, and pick a Spell. Also, give me your Grimoire so that I can get a more in-depth assessment of your abilities."

Flamelle is slow in her response, but she does eventually comply. Summoning her own Grimoire and pushing it across the table before pulling Kierra's over, acting almost reverent as she takes hold of it.

Kierra would have snorted with amusement if her body were any more emotive. She thinks it's silly to treat a book so adoringly, even if it is a Grimoire. Actually, now that she thinks about it like that, Kierra would probably be much the same if someone offered her a Grimoire of over a thousand Spells from Tier 20 to 26.

Never mind then.

Shaking her head lightly, Kierra flips Flamelle's Grimoire open and immediately cringes.

This is almost painful to look at.

She feels a little bit mean thinking it, but her body is practically recoiling at the number of mistakes and inefficiencies written within. It's not really fair on Flamelle, considering the level difference between them is nearly two thousand, but still.

There's a long way to go, huh.

Satisfied that Flamelle will be sufficiently occupied until she becomes tired enough to go to sleep, Kierra sets out to the arduous task of reading through Flamelle's Grimoire. That much obviously doesn't take long, the girl doesn't know a lot of Spells, but it's what comes after that is such a pain.

Which is the categorisation of Flamelle's knowledge, her strengths and weaknesses. Where she is talented and where she struggles, which runes she mistakes the most and a dozen other things. All being considered together so that Kierra can optimise her future lessons to be maximally effective.

It actually is a little bit fun. Plus, thinking about how to teach Flamelle is surprisingly helpful for digesting all of the knowledge and experience that this body has. Recontextualising things that are just instinct into proper understanding.

Kierra has a genuine smile at the thought that teaching Flamelle might actually make her a better Mage as well. If only marginally. But then, even a tiny percentage improvement is a significant difference at her level. Kierra's next level up will probably give more Stats than Flamelle currently has in total.

Like that, time passes in a comfortable silence as they both study their respective books. Flamelle flipping through pages with increasing awe, gluttonously devouring all the knowledge she can while Kierra simply spends her time picking out her student's strengths and flaws.

The only disturbance comes a little over an hour later when the carriage jostles slightly, signalling the beginning of their journey. The movement pulls them both from their focus, and Kierra also idly notices the man opposite them wake up too, though she doesn't pay him much mind.

Flamelle does, tracking the movement as he pushes himself to his feet and ambles over to the buffet section in the middle of the room. Kierra is then treated to the sight of Flamelle surreptitiously sending longing looks at the spread of food before looking to her, obviously withholding a question and instead returning her attention to Kierra's Grimoire.

She waits for the girl to ask about food, as it has been a while since she's ate now that Kierra thinks about it. She honestly forgot about food, as her body is technically Undead and thus has no need for such things as hunger.

However, Kierra is disappointed when Flamelle simply keeps her eyes on her Grimoire and says nothing. That has Kierra letting out a sigh, an action that redraws Flamelle's eyes.

"Tsk, be more assertive." Kierra's complaint only draws a look of confusion from her student, and so she sighs again, realising that she is going to have to make this a lesson. Then again, that is literally what she signed up for here.

"Let me give you a lesson on power dynamics," Kierra begins, making Flamelle put the Grimoire down and give her her full attention as she begins what should be a quick lesson. "When people hear 'power dynamic' they tend to imagine the extreme end of the spectrum, as is generally a theme with all things. People think of things like the power a King has over their subjects, and thus think of it as something they have no need to think about. So consider this your fifth lesson. You must always be conscious of the power dynamics around you."

Placing Flamelle's Grimoire down and to the side, Kierra folds her hands as she continues her lesson, meeting Flamelle's eyes as she does to make sure they are paying attention.

"Every interaction between two sapient individuals alters the power dynamic between them. In most cases, the alteration is simply so insignificant as to basically not exist. You can imagine it as a scale of 'favour'. If two parties are making some manner of commercial deal, then even just a polite greeting will result a minor improvement in the deal, whilst a rude greeting will do the opposite."

Flamelle clearly doesn't see what she's getting at, but the girl is a good student and continues listening attentively, waiting for the lecture to finish.

"Think about it like this. If a stranger walked up to you in the street and asked you to do their chores for them, wash their clothes, fetch their shopping. I would hope that you would turn them away. Of course, there are nuances. Such as if the person seems pathetically desperate for the help, this would increase the chances you would accept because you are a good person."

Kierra doesn't know if she's explaining this right, but she hasn't got any better ideas, so she just bullies forward.

"It is similar to the concept of debt. Only that this involves much more nebulous concepts. If a stranger asks for a favour that would take your time and effort, then that is a 'cost' that you are weighing. Against that 'cost' would be the 'benefit'. This could be monetary compensation, such as with a job, or in this case, if the one making the request seems truly desperate, then the 'benefit' would be emotional. The feeling of having done a good deed bringing you enough happiness to consider it a 'benefit' that outweighs the 'cost' of time and effort spent."

"Even something simple like if that stranger were someone whom you had walked past on the street every day for a few years, wherein they simply smiled and waved but nothing more. You would both still be strangers, knowing nothing of one another, yet every smile and every wave would build up an incredibly tiny, but incremental 'debt' until eventually you would be willing to consider doing them a small favour."

"In a more immediately relevant example. You want to learn Magic from me. This is your 'benefit' in our relationship. Because this is something that you value, the scale of 'favour' is deeply on my side. Thus, if I were to ask you to do my chores, or to perform useless, exhausting tasks, you would accept them. Yet, if I kept being demanding and rude, eventually those 'debts' would add up and you would have to reconsider the scale once more. To see if you feel that the 'cost' you are paying is still worth the 'benefit' you are receiving."

"It is because of this 'debt' that you would hesitate to trouble me or ask me of anything. This power dynamic, whether you were aware of it or not, is why you have been so hesitant to speak your mind in front of me. Because the scale is already so far in my favour, that I would have no reason to consider your words. This kind of dynamic exists within all people and every interaction, and once you understand it, you will find yourself far more confident making requests or demands to those in your proverbial 'debt'."

"Ultimately, this is all a part of political theory. Knowing what everyone around you wants and what they are willing and or capable of giving is a core part of politics and interpersonal relationships. As for how that is immediately relevant." Kierra leans forward slightly and pokes a finger in Flamelle's direction. "I want to teach you. It is something that I desire. Thus, you have power over me. You could act as bratty as you want, because my scale is tilted in your favour. The more you prove yourself an exemplary student, the more that scale will be in your favour. It is like an affection metre, wherein positive interactions build affection points which can then be spent on whatever you want. Understand?"

Flamelle stares for a moment before nodding her head, hesitantly at first before firming up. Then, taking the lesson to heart, Flamelle straightens up, looks Kierra in the eye and speaks.

"I'm going to get some food," she states, and Kierra smiles, simply dipping her head in acknowledgement.

Flamelle smiles back before hopping out of her seat and rushing up to the buffet table. Kierra shakes her head, feeling amused at the girl's blatant yearning for the high-class food available to her and returns her attention to the girl's Grimoire.

But of course, not a moment of peace is allowed when one travels with a protagonist type character, and her attention is soon pulled back to the girl when she notes another approaching her.

Kierra watches out of the corner of her eye, though with hawk-like attention, as one of the Noble's brood approaches the buffet table. With Flamelle's luck in mind, Kierra doesn't hold out much hope that the teenage Noble is simply getting himself some food with just coincidental timing.

With her Stats being what they are, it is no struggle for Kierra to eavesdrop on the pair, and it quickly becomes clear to her that the boy is trying to probe for information. Not that Flamelle understands that, but it's pretty obvious what's happening to Kierra.

She just has to consider the context. First, this is the Luxury Suite, incredibly overpriced and not the kind of place one would expect to see anyone of a lower social strata. Then there is their appearance. Kierra's own equipment is in the style of royalty from a bygone era, so she naturally projects enough recognisable wealth and status, even if she is not nearly as gaudy as these Nobles are with their gold.

Flamelle meanwhile is wearing the classic leather armour of a rookie adventurer, even having her little silver pin on her chest to denote her rank.

The most reasonable conclusion to come to from looking at them would be that Flamelle is some Noble scion out to play adventurer. It's hardly a rare thing to happen. In this case, Kierra would be her bodyguard or some such position. Perhaps if she was disguising herself as a Human instead of an Elf she would be assumed to be a family member.

And as she listens in on the conversation, Kierra inevitably hears what she knew she would; Flamelle missing the subtext completely and admitting to being a commoner.

The shift in tone from the Noble brat is almost as immediate as it is predictable, But Kierra only continues to observe. Interacting with a proper Noble within a controlled environment will be a good lesson for Flamelle, so she isn't planning on intervening.

Instead, she simply watches as the tone grows more aggressive, idly noting the Ranger in the booth across from her raise his brows in her direction. Clearly his Stats are also high enough to be impossible to miss the conversation, but she ignores his silent question about if she will do anything.

Then, as Flamelle tries to physically excuse herself, the boy grabs her. A hand on her wrist, halting her movement, and Kierra twitches.

Seeing the true face of the weak men that cling on to inherited power that the Nobility hide behind their facades is undoubtably a good lesson for her. A poor experience now could save her from a disastrous one in the future by simply instilling a little bit of caution.

At least that was the plan anyway, but when she sees Flamelle's face scrunch into a wince from the grip, Kierra is no longer planning. Instead, she simply acts.

A wave of invisible force rips out of her body and through the carriage, avoiding Flamelle entirely before picking the Noble brat up, hauling him off of his feet and throwing him against a mostly empty sofa. It's not like she's going to hurt the brat, she's not crazy.

Still, Kierra lets out a sigh after her actions, already knowing what the inevitable result will be. In preparation, another invisible force pulls at Flamelle. It drags her back into her seat with a surprised squawk, also bringing with it the plates she had been filling.

Just in time for the fattest and most pompous of the Nobles to launch himself to his feet, multiple chins jiggling with the movement. Even as he points a finger shaking with anger in her direction, Kierra can only wonder what kind of diet could even produce such a man. Truly, Nobility are impressive. No wonder they get the titles.

"You dare touch my son!"

Mostly, Kierra is finding this whole thing annoying, but she at least has the silver lining that Flamelle's deer-in-headlights expression is amusing to look at.

Kierra ignores the frothing Noble for now and turns her attention back to her student.

"Flamelle." The girl's attention snaps to her, though there is no doubt that she is still conscious of the angry Nobles. "Continuing your previous lesson, I feel I should mention the most obvious and prevalent power dynamic of them all. It is incredibly simple. People want to live, and so having the ability to deny them that gives you power over people. Whether that is through personal strength," Kierra gestures to herself, "Or through influence is of little difference." She finishes by gesturing to the approaching mob.

Well, mob is putting it too highly. It is only the fat Noble, his son and four hangers-on, three men one woman. The rest of the women chose to stay behind apparently, which isn't too surprising to Kierra for many reasons.

Though, she does note that one of the men seems to be an outlier to the others. Not least because he actually has some power to him, but his dress is also far more practical than gaudy. A bodyguard, she assumes.

"You!" Kierra blandly turns in her seat to face the fat Noble as he stands beside their booth, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction. "How dare you assault my son!" She notices him bite something back once he notices her ears, but there is barely a hitch in his rant, "I don't care who you are in your land, Elf! Assaulting a Noble in this Kingdom is a crime, and I will not stand for it!"

Kierra knows that at least one of her friends would have made some comment on how he very clearly is standing because of this, but Kierra is above such things. Mostly though she just wants to make this into a proper lesson for Flamelle instead of just annoying the Noble even more.

And so, instead of responding to the obese man, Kierra simply turns back to her student.

"Flamelle," she begins, causing the Noble's face to puff red with rage, "Do you know what the correct course of action here is?"

It very quickly becomes clear that Flamelle is too cowed by the angry Noble to be responding any time soon, so Kierra answers her own question before said Noble can interrupt with some diatribe or other.

"This troglodyte believes that the scale of favour is weighted to his side due to his power as a Noble, leaving us in 'debt' for the cost of annoying him. The scales can either be evened out by paying back the 'debt' by apologising profusely, an act that will cost us shame and benefit him by feeding his already inflated ego. Or, a simpler option, is to simply negate the weight he is using to hold the scale down on his side. In simpler terms, he believes he has power over us because of his ability to deny us our lives, so we simply have to show that he does not hold such a privilege."

"In other words," Kierra continues, her voice dropping slightly as she turns to meet the Noble's eyes and push herself out of the booth. "The best way to deal with annoying Nobles, is through immediate and overwhelming violence."

Several things then happen at the same time. First, the Noble and his entourage collectively back up a step, their overconfidence immediately faltering in the face of manifested consequences.

The only exception being the guard, who steps forward and to the side, putting himself between Kierra and the fatty. This actually causes Kierra to freeze in her actions. Not because he is an obstacle in any way, but because the guard is smiling.

It's a familiar enough smile for her to recognise it. The smile of a man who knows that he is outclassed, but just wants to fight all the more because of it.

A battle junkie, Kierra notes in her mind, almost smiling back at him. As a Mage should be.

Then lastly, right as she meant to act, the previously silent Ranger jumps to his feet and interrupts everything with a very loud yell.

"Argh! I'm out of booze!!" The tension in the room immediately simmers away as all eyes turn incredulous attention upon the moping man, watching as he crumples back into his booth, leaning back until he is almost facing the ceiling.

It is as he is sitting like that that his attention turns to them, one eye simply moving their way without tilting his head away from the ceiling.

"Aya~, so many glares. Well, I'm sorry for interrupting, but as much as I'd enjoy the show, we do have a long ride ahead of us, so I guess I'll get involved."

The Noble appears visibly relieved by the Ranger's words, taking yet another step back such that he can face both Kierra and the Ranger at the same time. Kierra doesn't move to do anything, simply choosing to meet eyes with the Mage who still only moves enough to keep himself between her and the Noble.

"Jorick Davison," the Noble says to the Ranger, smiling with relief. "It is not often one gets to meet an Orichalcum level Adventurer such as yourself. I would be honoured to have your assistance in dealing with this brute," he glares the final word right into Kierra's skull. Not that she is really paying him any mind.

"Huh? What, no, I'm not fighting that thing."

'Thing?' Why am I a thing?

Predictably, the Noble doesn't take Jorick's answer well. "What?! What is the meaning of this, Davison!? Don't you know who I am!? I am Count Binyamin Cohenberg!

Kierra almost snorts at the hypocrisy of saying that less than two minutes after declaring so loudly how little he cared of Kierra's identity. Also, weren't the Cohenberg supposed to be Dukes now? Or would that just make this one from a branch family?

Instead of directly answering the angry Cohenberg, Jorick nods his head in the bodyguard's direction. "Hey, Battle Mage." As the guard turns enough to meet Jorick's eyes, Kierra parrots the title in her head, curious. Every Mage is capable of battle, so the title seems superfluous, which can only mean that she's missing something.

When the guard doesn't respond, Jorick continues as if he did. "That trinket around your neck marks you as a Second Rank Battle Mage, right? But you're only Platinum level. So if we were to fight, how do think that'd go?"

The guard doesn't respond beyond a simple narrowing of the eyes, and Jorick chuckles slightly at that, smiling sardonically as he continues, "It'd be close, right?"

"Jorick Davison!" The Cohenberg interrupts, face red. "You may be Orichalcum, but I demand an explanation!"

Jorick sighs playfully and shakes his head before meting the Noble's furious gaze.

"What I'm trying to get at, Cohenberg, is that perhaps you should ask your guard what they think of their chances against that thing. Battle Mages tend to have a good sense for this sort of thing, you know?"

Binyamin's glare the turns upon his guard, and he only manages to growl out a single demanding word.

"Explain."

The Mage glances at him briefly before returning his attention to her, the greatest threat in the room, and his lips only twitch up slightly as he responds.

"Mr Davison is just being really round-a-bout saying that she's strong, my Lord. Stronger than I can really protect you from if it came down to it."

"Wha- But you're a Battle Mage!" Binyamin retorts, a mixture of shocked and angry and maybe a little bit scared. Tsk, Nobles. "Surely there is something you can do!?"

The Mage shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'd die." He speaks with certainty yet calmly despite the words, and his next he speaks directly to her. "I'd love to try, though."

Kierra likes this guy. He really is an exemplary picture of what a Mage should be.

Jorick shakes his head, muttering "Of course you'd say that," with a wry smile.

The Cohenberg however is far less calm, flitting his eyes between his guard and Kierra, who herself decides to strike while the moment is ripe.

"Your son grabbed my student," she says, bringing all eyes back on her, though she only stares into Binyamin's. "He should apologise."

Binyamin grits his teeth and glares, but credit where credit is due, he is at least capable enough to see the writing on the wall. Hence why instead of yelling pejoratives as he no doubt desires to, the Cohenberg simply sends her a smile that comes out as more of a grimace.

"Children are often rash," Binyamin sends a short glare to his son before his attention returns to her. "The folly of youth," he explains, "Enjoy your ride."

Then, without any biting remarks or final words, Binyamin simply turns on his heel and stomps his way back down to the other side of the carriage. His entourage follows after him in various states of discontent.

She doesn't miss the lack of an actual apology, but she also doesn't care. That's not what her words meant anyway. Asking for an apology was just her giving him an out so that this interaction could end peacefully. They do have a long ride ahead of them after all.

Kierra returns the nod sent her way by the guard and then follows suit, sliding back into her booth under the astonished eyes of Flamelle.

"It's over?" The girl whispers to her, "Just like that?"

Kierra nods. "The scales were always in our favour, he just needed to realise it. As a Count, his Title gives him power over the lives of others, but he is only a Count. There isn't much that he could do even just to an Orichalcum, let alone me. I am strong enough that I could kill ten Counts and the King would still hesitate to make me an enemy of his Kingdom. Regardless of that though, tell me Flamelle, what is a Battle Mage?"

A snort from their side draws their eyes back to Jorick, who takes a sip from a fresh bottle of booze before he speaks up, counting down on his fingers as he does.

"Titled at the minimum, unafraid of poking a Kingdom's Nobility, wearing Robes I could probably never afford and you don't even know what a Battle Mage is?" Jorick shakes his head, amusement clear. "I know you long-lived Races can be out of touch sometimes, but this is too much. Reminds me of those old stories, Dragons disguising themselves to live among us mere mortals for a time."

He turns sly, teasing eyes upon her. "So? How are you liking it, Miss Dragon? I'd ask to see your hoard, but as much as I'd like to see so much treasure, I'd rather keep living."

Kierra finds his words particularly amusing because for all that they are clearly said in jest, he's technically not entirely wrong.

The system abbreviates Races when there is too much diversity, cutting out the less significant bits. As it happens, Kierra is a Lich, inhabiting the body of a Demon and with her Phylactery storing her Soul inside of the heart of a Dragon. So if her Status were to display her full Race, then a more accurate read would be [Race: Archlich Demon Emperor Dragon King].

Her level is over 2,000, making for four Race advancements. That accounts for the Tier 5 Archlich and Demon Emperor Races. But the Dragon's heart in her chest came from a [Dragon King], which is a Tier 4 Race. If that was at the same level, then her abbreviated Status would probably read her Race as [Race: Draconic Demon Archlich].

Not that she is going to explain any of that, naturally. Even ignoring the fact that Liches are perhaps the most reviled Race within this world, just the Dragon part could cause her a lot of annoyance if people started talking about it. She doesn't feel like being subject to a Witch Hunt, even if she doubts anyone would really be able to kill her.

Instead of responding to Jorick, Kierra simply waves a hand and throws up a silencing Spell around their booth. She notices him laugh at that, though obviously doesn't hear it, before her attention returns to Flamelle.

Flamelle meets her gaze silently, and the silence quickly grows awkward.

"Battle Mages?" Kierra prompts, snapping the girl back into focus.

"Right, uhm," Flamelle lightly shakes her head, her next words coming out stronger. "Yeah, Battle Mages are like, the elite of the elite. The most skilled Mages in the world, at least when it comes to combat anyway. They're famed for being able to win fights even against opponents of much higher levels. Battle Mages are even more elite than Red Robes, and everyone wants to be a Red Robe."

Kierra makes sure to take that 'everyone' to be the kind of thing a kid says about the job they want. Like a kid that wants to be a fireman saying how everyone wants to be a fireman because they can't imagine anyone not wanting that.

Still, Kierra is interested.

From what she has heard of this Red Institute from Flamelle, she finds their methods of teaching rather lacking. Whoever is training these Battle Mages on the other hand, if this guard is an accurate example, then Kierra very much agrees with whatever it is they are doing over there.

Shaking her head, she puts those thoughts aside for now.

"Flamelle." The girl straightens slightly in attention. "Consider this you sixth lesson. Always assume the worst of Nobility. Assume that they are greedy, prideful, fragile egoists. You will be right more often than you will be wrong, and in the case that you are wrong, the Noble in question would likely forgive you. If you show weakness to such a person, they will exploit you of everything you have and leave little more than a husk to remain."

Flamelle considers her for a long moment, silently thinking, before eventually nodding.

"You don't think very highly of Nobility Mistress Kette, do you."

It is not a question, but she answers anyway. "No, I do not."

Kierra is pretty happy to note that Flamelle only hesitates very briefly before speaking up again. "May I know why?"

"History," is Kierra's immediate answer. "My dislike of Nobility isn't entirely out of personal bias, though I can admit that I disagree with the concept on principle. The endless greed and lust for power and control that the rich and powerful exhibit is not a prejudice. It is a known and well catalogued fact that has been consistent throughout all of history. Most systems of power, governments and companies for instance, tend to start out altruistic enough. But through time, they are all corrupted. Everyone wants more out of life, that is the nature of being alive. But when a commoner wants a percentage improvement to their life, it effects nothing. However, when a Noble wants that same percentage improvement, it costs the lives and labour of thousands, millions of poor citizens. Yet rarely does that stop them. Always wanting more."

Kierra lets out a shallow breath as she finishes her piece, realising that she's probably said more words in this carriage than she has since she woke up inside this body.

Too many words. She's tired.

So instead of saying anything else, Kierra just gestures to the Grimoire Flamelle set aside. "You have your food now. Get back to picking out a Spell. Whatever you choose is what we will focus on for a while, so find something you like."

The girl nods and does so. She is clearly still thinking over everything that just happened, but her eagerness to read Kierra's Grimoire is great enough to pull her in regardless.

Kierra meanwhile, leans back in the booth and rests her eyes.

Getting under the skin of a Noble is always going to be fun, but damn if all of that wasn't just a little bit exhausting. She just hopes the rest of the ride can pass in peace.

Tsk. Shouldn't have thought that.

A faint sigh leaves her at the realisation of what she has signed up for, travelling with a holder of [Advanced Luck Glow].

Ah well, Kierra thinks, her eyes reopening to sight Flamelle nose deep in her Grimoire. It'll be worth it.

A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!

This chapter is apparently basically just me trying to explain how my retarded ass sees interpersonal relationships lmao.

Also, this train ride will be the final part of this story that resembles the Archmage story that inspired this. Mostly because I haven't read that story past like 2 chapters into the capital lol, but mostly cuz I've realised we're not going for the same kinda story. Probably. Idk what they're thinking.

Chapter 11: Mega Lore Dump For Funsies

Thankfully, things did calm down after the whole incident. The Noble and his lot kept to their side of the carriage, leaving Kierra some peace to start trying to come up with training exercises that Flamelle can do to improve.

Eventually, enough time passed that even the allure of advanced Magic couldn't keep Flamelle up.

Well, that's not really true. Kierra made the girl get some sleep once it hit midnight.

Unlike Kierra who is used to having the worst sleep schedule, perks of being an obsessive gamer, Flamelle actually has a life to live and things to do. So she should be getting proper sleep.

Which leaves Kierra watching the world fly by through the window. This rail probably moves faster than any train on Earth, but even then it's going to be several hours before they arrive. Free World Online was massive after all. Just the Kingdom of Laptalia alone is probably about the size of Eurasia, maybe a bit thinner, and that's just one of the Human Kingdoms.

There's a good half dozen hours left before they reach the capital, and by now Kierra is the only one still awake. The other half of the room has transformed into a series of small rooms for privacy, while Flamelle and Jorick simply lie out on their respective booths.

Five hours into the ride, and the cold of the northern lands has long been left behind. Forests and plains have come and gone under her watchful gaze, leaving them now passing through a large desert of badlands. The scenery is interesting enough as is passes by, making her think of old western movies.

Something about the sight twinges some difficult to identify feeling of familiarity within her. Kind of like déjà vu, but not quite. It's strange enough for her to have taken note of it, but it is only when she sees a particular rock formation in the distance that the pieces click into place within her mind.

I know that rock, she thinks to herself, staring at the distant mesa.

If Flamelle was awake then Kierra would give a quick geology lesson starting with how a mesa is just an isolated, flat-topped hill with vertical cliffsides. But she is not, and it is hardly an urgent lesson, so the thought is quickly discarded.

Instead, Kierra rises to her feet, feeling some mixture of nostalgia and.. melancholy? Whatever she is feeling, the emotion is heavy, leaving her sombre, not that her body necessarily expresses that much.

First stepping over to the sleeping Flamelle, Kierra observes the girl for a moment, finding some odd sense of peace in the tranquil expression she wears.

Leaning forward, Kierra brushes a strand of Flamelle's hair back so that it doesn't brush against her eyelashes and wake her. Then she pulls the girl's blanket more tightly under her chin and steps back.

With comfort now assured, Kierra raises a palm in Flamelle's direction and starts casting defensive Buffs, not stopping until she is confident that nothing under level 1,800 would be able to so much as bruise her.

Satisfied that Flamelle is now taken care of, Kierra turns to the other booth and approaches the sleeping Jorick.

He wakes himself the moment she is a pace away from him, honed instinct warning him of her approach. Though, his immediate alert expression rapidly falls away once he recognises his surroundings, turning instead into a raised brow and curious look.

Kierra doesn't miss the way he tenses at her presence though, no matter how well he might think he is hiding it.

"Hey?" He greets as the last of his grogginess fades away, leaving him to put on a sly smile. "Wait, I've had dreams just like this, give me a minute to freshen up before you 'eat' me, Lady Dragon" he finishes with a wink.

Kierra does not miss the implication. She isn't dense. She also doesn't think men are cute, hence why she chose to play as a woman in the first place. So her response is mostly instinctive.

Her face crunches up, and only a single word comes out.

"Gross."

Jorick deflates at that, sulking against the table in front of him. "Okay that actually hurts a little. Whaddaya want, Lady Dragon?"

She ignores the comment about her Race, knowing that she isn't a Dragon but that saying as much would technically be a lie and not wanting to explain why. Instead, she just gets to the point.

"I have business elsewhere. I shouldn't be gone long." Noting his confusion at why she is telling him this, Kierra sends a pointed glance in the direction of the sleeping Nobles as she leans close enough to murmur quietly, speaking with a steady, calm certainty all the while staring straight into his eyes.

"If anything happens to Flamelle while I am gone," she begins, noting the way he tenses further at the inherent threat in her steady tone, "I will kill everyone. Starting with you."

He is clearly smart enough to get what she is alluding to, sparing only a brief glance to her student before his eyes return to her.

"Y'know," he lets the word hang for a second, sporting a wry smile. "Usually when I get hired to babysit I get paid in Gold, not death threats."

She just wanted to make sure he took Flamelle's protection seriously, so at his words, Kierra shrugs and pulls five Platinum out and lays them on the table. That leaves her with only two remaining, plus change. But she assumes that that will be enough, since she only needs it to last until she can talk to some people at the capital.

Jorick raises a brow at the money, but accepts it with a nod, untensing slightly now that she is being more reasonable.

"Must be one hell of a kid," he mentions, glancing again at Flamelle and back, "Makes me wonder what's so special about her that'd make a Dragon like you care so much about her."

"She might be able to kill me one day," Kierra answers without really thinking about it, her own eyes finding the girl's sleeping form.

Jorick clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "Tsk, combat mages," he says with a roll of his eyes, as if those words alone explain everything.

Kierra ignores him.

Confident now that Flamelle will be perfectly safe without her, even with [Advanced Luck Glow], Kierra's attention once more falls to the window outside and she does not hesitate.

[Blink]

The controlled temperature and ambient silence of the carriage immediately disappears, replaced by the roar of a thousand wheels thundering down the track. Kierra is barely fast enough to turn around before the rail has already passed her ad become little more than a dot on the horizon, thunderous noise falling away with it.

It is fast indeed.

With the rail gone, silence returns. Only, this silence is more natural, broken only by the faint sounds of distant insects.

It's not like she expects to find much life here out in the badlands. With a complete lack of vegetation, the only life that survives here is that of insects and a small ecosystem of magical animals that can eat minerals and their natural predators.

Looking up at the night sky, Kierra honestly finds the sight more familiar than she would the sky of Earth. Because really, even if she was born in a world where this was all just a game, Kierra can't deny that this world feels more like home than her last.

Then again, it could also have something to do with how she's barely seen the sky back on Earth, since there was always a cloud of smog in the way. Her grandparents used to talk about how there would always be clear skies back in their day, but that simply isn't the world that she grew up in.

Or maybe she's just bias because she has Magic here, who knows?

Shaking the thought away, Kierra returns her attention to the mesa in the distance.

Deciding that she'd rather enjoy the sights, Kierra casts [Fly] instead of teleporting, and soon she is shooting through the sky, enjoying the midnight flight.

The feel of the cool night air parting around her, of rapid winds brushing against her as she moves freely through the sky, guided solely by her own will fills her. It is an incredibly invigorating experience, and if not for her body remaining so impassive, she is sure she would be whooping with joy.

Even through her aloof body, a wide smile lights up on her face as she lets herself let loose.

Farther and farther she flies, and yet even after a while she does not arrive. The mesa just continues to grow larger in her sight. Larger and larger until she can no longer see its peak.

Without slowing down, Kierra continues to fly straight towards the cliff-face, waiting until only the very last moment to pivot her flight at a hard ninety-degree angle, shooting straight up less than a foot away from the rocky crag.

For longer than one would expect considering her speed of flight, Kierra continues to climb until eventually cresting the peak where she reigns in her flight, sending herself into a slow forward backflip with her momentum.

That weightless moment in the sky before gravity reasserts itself is worth more to her than she could describe with words alone.

A moment later and she touches down, bursting her flight only briefly at the last second to allow a smooth touchdown with only a small ring of displaced dust as any indication.

Standing there, thousands of metres above the ground, Kierra looks out at the vast world around her. The badlands all around, full of towers of rock and valleys of stone. Distant greens far to the north and south, showing only the beginnings of life reclaiming the land. She can barely manage to see firelight from a small tribal settlement out there, looking so insignificant from so high up.

A deep, satisfied breath leaves her upwards turned lips.

"I love Magic," Kierra whispers softly, a sombre admittance made all the more significant for where she stands. "I love this world."

She doesn't know how long she spent simply enjoying the view, but eventually she returns to herself and turns on her heel. It takes a few minutes at a casual walk for her to reach the opposite side of the mesa, but it's not like she's in a hurry.

When she does reach the far cliffside, Kierra doesn't stop her casual pace at all. Simply stepping forward into the air and off of the mountain, rapidly entering a freefall.

It is a uniquely different sensation, falling through the sky without any personal direction. Just the forces of gravity and nothing else. It's different, but not necessarily a bad thing.

Despite being slower, the fall is actually not as long as the rise, as she doesn't even make it halfway down before kicking her flight back into gear and halting her momentum.

Twisting around as to be upright once more, Kierra stands in the air facing the mountain wall. More specifically a hole in the cliff face, about two metres tall and a little less across. Exactly as she remembers it.

The moment feels significant, somehow, as she slowly floats forward, disabling her flighty to land gently into a steady walk.

Light soon disappears as she descends into the mountain, though with all of her advanced senses, it matters little to her if there is light. The only sound reaching her ears is the echo of her boots on the stone underfoot.

The first change occurs after over a minute of walking. A slight, faint light ahead. One that continues to grow as she descends farther and farther within this stone tomb until eventually the tunnel finally reaches its end.

The darkness opens up into an expansive cavern, lit up clearly by beautiful sparkling crystals shining white from the ceiling and reflecting against the pool of perfectly clear water below.

The floor is a large pool of water except for an extending path leading straight from the tunnel entrance to a small island in the centre. A stone podium sits in the middle of said island, untouched save the accumulated dust.

Kierra ignores that for now, turning instead to her left. A path extends a perfect ring around the pool along the edge of the cavern, and it is this path that she walks.

This is not the first time that she has walked this path, yet it feels no less impactful for of it. Because on these stone walls, there is history.

Vast, delicate carvings and paintings cover the wall. Telling a story. The greatest story ever told in this world.

Her story.

The story of Kierra- no. The story of Kette, and all of the names she has worn since.

Her hand reaches out to brush against the wall as she takes the first step. Observing the mural with a quiet sort of reverence. Nostalgia and melancholy don't even begin to describe it.

The scene depicts a golden-haired Elf, dressed in a simple toga style robe with minimal adornments, towering over civilisations under glowing light, her arms spread in benediction. Revered by an endless crowd of bowed heads, each praying their own dedication to the [Origin of Magic].

Kierra's hand trails along the smooth stone as as she continues her walk. Steps slow and methodical; unhurried in her gait as she takes her time to absorb the paintings. Her mind awhirl with memories. Highs and lows, though mostly highs.

She remembers the closed alpha well. The Magic system at the time was so unpolished, she really could get away with anything. Yet the Devs never tried to stop her. Whenever she found a glitch or a bug, they would just make whatever she found be part of the game. Either writing it into the code or into the Lore.

She is the one who invented the concept of reabsorbing unused mana, a bug she found by complete accident. It gave her a massive advantage over all of the other Players for a while until the Devs added the skill to the game properly and everyone started learning it.

She remembers how fun it was, creating Magic.

There was no framework at the time. The Devs basically just outsourced the designing of the Magic system to the play testers, and no one played as much as she did. Half the Spells between Tier 0 and 10 were put into the game by her. By Kette.

It was so much fun.

Maybe the most fun she had ever felt in her life until then. Maybe that's why she got so obsessed with Free World Online.

Maybe that's why this world feels more like home than anywhere else ever did.

Kierra moves forward, her hand trailing behind her as the scene on the wall goes through a significant change in tone.

If the first depicted the 'Mythical Era,' as Lynsil described it to her in the Guild, then this second mural would be the one for the 'Age of Darkness'.

Front and centre, overwhelming the scene as Kette did previously is a man. Rather, the skeleton of a man.

Dressed in dark, regal robes and wielding a staff of bone-white wood, empty eyes stare down at a scene of destruction. Of broken and burning cities and lifeless corpses strewn about by walking skeletons.

The Original Cataclysm, Menethas Lietzsche.

Further along the wall, that same figure stands opposed to a grand army. All Races united together against the horde of Undeath and the mastermind behind it all.

Kierra remembers that battle fondly. It was her idea to introduce a Lich Boss to the alpha in the first place. Give the Players something to fight.

That battle was truly wonderful. It was there that she met Grognak, the dumb idiot. She found it so charming at the time how gleefully he went about crushing swathes of skeletons with a giant club. It's a shame he's such a muscle-head. Not cute at all.

But what made that fight so much fun was not just the simple enjoyment of ploughing through thousands of Undead with AoE Spells.

No, what made it fun was that the Devs are the worst. They truly seem to have always enjoyed their stupid jokes that have never been funny.

In this case, the 'joke' was that Menethas was way too overpowered.

There is a reason he got called a Cataclysm. He was never intended to be beaten. In fact, a Dev actually confided in her that there were some talks of having Menethas be a recurring villain throughout the plot.

Kierra keeps walking, and she is soon rewarded with the final scene of this Age. The scene that the Devs never expected.

It depicts a barren field, covered end to end in corpses. The fallen men and women lying in the same blooded dirt as the Undead they once faced.

In the centre of this, Menethas stands, paused in the motion of falling back, his staff wielding hand knocked wide.

On one side, at his front, Grognak is in the air, both arms holding a greatsword in a two-handed grip above his head, ready to swing down with the full weight of his body and gravity combined.

At the same time, behind Menethas is a tall, black-haired Human Witch. Crouched slightly with her open palm facing the Lich's lower back while producing an explosion of light.

The two Legendary [World Saviours] who together slew the Original Cataclysm.

Kierra moves forward, the memories continuing to flow through her mind like a gentle stream. Of triumphs and laughs and of the deep, unfathomable joy that she felt as Menethas drew his final breath. The sheer satisfaction she felt after winning that fight carried her mood for months.

It's not like it was an instance dungeon they could run over and over again, they only got one chance. The entire server versus one Boss. But Grog and her clicked together perfectly. Even though they'd just met, their teamwork was without fault, like they were of one mind.

It was so much fun that it hurts, and Kierra does nothing to wipe away the tears as they begin to fall. Mourning for what she has lost.

Kierra moves forward.

The next mural is not too unlike the first. This would be the 'Age of Enlightenment'.

The scene starts in a broken land. Death and destruction rampant, only dregs of humanity left to pick up the pieces.

As Kierra continues to walk through the cave, the scene changes and grows. People gather in crowds to bury and honour the dead. They clear the rubble and clean the streets. And then, they start to rebuild

With the memory of Menethas and the grand alliance his presence forced into being, the world entered an era of peace and prosperity. It is within this world that a figure seems to rise.

Another Human woman.

The mural depicts this woman as she helps her fellows rise. As she pulls them to their feet, always offering a hand to those beneath her, pulling all up so they may rise with her.

The mural ends depicting a grand throne room. Silk banners and crystal chandeliers and lines of Knights in golden ceremonial armours.

In the centre of this scene, that same woman sits regal on her throne of gold and obsidian, dressed in robes as red as her long hair and wearing extravagant accessories of gold embedded with various gemstones.

By her side, a man stands half a step behind her throne. Standing tall and powerful in black armour of the highest possible quality inlaid with gold. He has a pair of large horns jutting up and forward from his temples and a thick sword on his hip with a red grip.

Before her, dozens of Noble men and women kneel. Not the Nobility of inherited wealth, but those few men and women of exceptional character that rise only when the world around them needs them to.

These Noble men and women depicted are the architects of the Age of Enlightenment. The great men and women who reforged a broken world into a land of prosperity.

And at the head of it all, the only woman they all willingly lowered their heads to, the Legendary [Queen of Malakiga].

The closed beta was a departure from her usual playstyle. She doesn't usually play RTS games, but she had fun regardless.

She doesn't know if it would have been possible for her to ever have managed not to enjoy herself, not if she was playing Free World Online.

Kierra moves forward.

The fourth and penultimate mural mirrors the second in much the same way that the third mirrored the first.

The scene opens with a young black-haired Human woman on the floor, her arm stretched out in a desperate attempt to reach the coattails of a departing robed figure.

The next, that same woman stands with her hands cupped in front of her, reverently waiting to catch a staff of bone-white wood. Her face twisted into some rictus of grief and rage and loss.

The last scene is much like with Menethas. The cyclical nature of life proving itself.

It depicts a distant city, radiant and prosperous. Shadowed only by an endless army of Undeath in the foreground. That same woman, unrecognisable now as her features have all disappeared in place of lifeless bone. Only the staff of bone-white wood hinting at her identity; the [Witch of Catastrophe].

It's honestly a tough call in Kierra's mind as to whether is was more fun to play kingdom-builder or to play the villain. Well, maybe that isn't true. Because for as satisfying as playing the bad guy was at the time, most of that enjoyment jut stems from her situation at the time in real life.

To put a whole lot of information simple, she was not in a good headspace at the time. Those were probably her most depressive days ever, and wiping out an entire Kingdom, one that she built up in the first place...

Well, it was cathartic at the time, but that kind of senseless violence isn't really in her character. She doesn't see the point in fighting people who either cannot fight back or do not deserve to die.

Regardless, Kierra moves forward. Coming to a stop at the final, and most simple mural of them all.

It simply depicts a small Demon child with small horns and short white hair, the [Living Death] hugging herself as she sits and stares at seven distant shadows.

From there, the rest of the remaining wall is blank.

Kierra stares at that empty space, and thousands of memories rush through her mind like an unstoppable tide.

Memories of her friends. Her most dear companions. Of their laughter, their arguments, their games and every second they spent together. The peaceful silences and boisterous yelling. The triumphant accomplishment they all felt every time they beat the next Boss or the next difficulty.

She remembers it all.

And so she paints.

With a wave of her hand, Kierra's mana flows over the blank stone. Carving and colouring the vast empty canvas.

She fills it with everything. All of her feelings over nine long years compressed into a single mural.

She draws their meetings. The circumstance of their introductions. The formation of their Guild. The six of them seated on logs around a campfire as they argued about what to name the Guild.

She draws their triumphs. The scenes she remembers oh so perfectly of every first kill they got on each Cataclysm, ending with Vielduine.

And then, the final scene of this saga, the end to this story.

She draws Kierra Kalashnikova. Seated alone around that same campfire, now snuffed out and smouldering. Only swords and staffs and helmets remaining in place of where her friends once sat.

Leaving only her in this world.

Alone.

Kierra closes her eyes, uncaring of their dampness, and lets out a shuddering breath.

Then, she opens them, and instead of looking only at that final scene, she casts her gaze backward. Observing the times before, her entire history in this world, at least the most significant parts from each server version anyway. As she does, a far more recent memory play through her mind.

Would you rather forget them?

Despite the tears, Kierra smiles.

She truly does mourn how this story ends, but she would not have traded it for anything.

She has lived a good life, here, in this world.

"I won't forget you," she whispers into the silent cave. "You deserve at least that much."

Turning away from the wall, Kierra moves to the land bridge that connects the small centre island to the entrance tunnel.

She walks the path, not for the first time, until she comes to a stop before the lone podium.

Looking down at the smooth stone, Kierra brushes a hand over the lightly dusted surface, revealing what lies beneath. A small paragraph carved into the stone, and she reads it, even though she already knows every word.

Here lies the greatest story never told. Of the heights that Magic can reach when wielded by only the most dedicated Mage of them all. [The First Mage].

I know you are probably the only one that will ever read this, K. So I just wanted to personally say this. Thank you. For enjoying our world so deeply. It is an honour we cannot repay. So we made you this instead. I know you love your Lore. We left the end empty though. Hopefully, once the full release comes out you will create even more memories and be able to finish it yourself. I am sure you will.

–Regards, D

Kierra feels numb.

Her hands snap out either side of the podium to catch her as her prestigious strength fails her.

Lacking the energy to fight it, Kierra manoeuvrers herself forward and down, twisting around until she can sit with her back against the podium.

Here, isolated and alone in a place that no one but her even knows exists, Kierra allows herself to vent out all of her emotions. Here, where no one will ever see it, she lets herself cry for what she has lost.

And sitting there, with her knees held against her chest, Kierra looks through blurry eyes at that final mural. At the image of the small Demon girl sitting in the exact same position.

Through the haze of grief, a laugh manages to bubble through, thick with emotion as some distant memory hits her. A quote she never learned the origin of.

"The more things change," she whispers into the silent cavern, "The more they stay the same, huh? Even after everything, I'm still that same grieving little Demon."

Granted, in her Lore, it was a vastly different circumstance that made her character cry. Plus, that history isn't one she lived, for all that she knows it all by heart.

But even with that, the more that she thinks about it, the more that she realises how the phrase resonates with her Lore.

In her Lore, she condemned Menethas for his extreme actions, only to wind up making the exact same choices for the exact same reason.

It's ironic, she thinks. Or perhaps that isn't the right word. She doesn't care to think on it right now.

She is someone who considers herself well educated. She spent a lot of time inside of libraries in FWO and just as much time educating herself on the internet. All for the sake of her character's aesthetic.

An ancient, powerful Witch must be knowledgeable after all, so she made sure to educate herself on everything she could think of to ensure that she could always roleplay properly, no matter the subject.

Yet, despite all of that. Despite her understanding of psychology and history and sociology...

She isn't sure if she wouldn't have made the same mistakes as this body did oh so long ago.

A ping in her brain distracts her from her deep thoughts, and when she closes her eyes and extends her senses afield, she can only shake her head wryly at what she sees.

A sigh leaves her. "Protagonist indeed."

Seeing that Flamelle isn't in any immediate danger, Kierra doesn't rush ahead. She feels to wrung out right now to just bounce back as if nothing happened.

So instead, she sits there for a while, simply watching the situation around Flamelle unfold and allowing it to pull her mind back to even keel.

Eventually though, her composure is regained, and Kierra pushes herself back to her feet.

A quick whirl of Magic washes over her, erasing any tear stains or dust or really just any evidence of the minor emotional breakdown she just had. She's hate for her student to see her looking so pathetic, even if there is nothing shameful about it. It's more just that she doesn't want to ruin the aesthetic she's been building up at a mysterious and wise Mage.

It's good to cry every now and then after all. There were plenty of studies done on how crying is basically just the most simple biological stress relief. At least for certain emotions anyway, sex is a better stress relief for things like stress, but that isn't relevant, nor is it something she is going to be teaching Flamelle about.

On the bright side, now that she has had this cry, Kierra feels a lot more grounded. Which is actually really good, because without having this moment, she might have had a reaction to seeing her home in person.

That she is only thinking about that now is proof enough to her that she had some emotional backlog built up.

Letting out another sigh, this one more satisfied, Kierra stretches her back, feeling a lot more comfortable in her skin now than an hour ago. A knot she didn't even notice unwinding within her.

[Blink]

Standing on the top of the mesa, Kierra looks out into the far distance. Not able to see Flamelle over the curvature of this world, but knowing which way to look.

She could teleport to the girl thanks to the Spells already in place, even if she can't use [Warp], since that needs a [Warp Point] which can't be set on a moving rail. It's also way to far for [Blink], which is supposed to be a short distance teleport.

Because of this, she would have to use a much higher Tier Spell in order to teleport. She could do that.

But.

Kierra wants to fly.

Not like the casual jaunt that brought her here, she'd never make it in time at that speed.

No, she wants to go all out. To push her movement speed as high as she can without causing a massive scene. She wants to know how it feels to fly that fast in truth.

After that, it will just be a matter of annihilating the monsters assailing her student.

"Now then," Kierra smiles slightly as she takes to the air, feeling in a good mood now. "What Spell should I use?"

A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!

Gosh I love lore. This chap might seem like it's revealing enough that there won't be any more depths to Kierra's Lore, but that is dead wrong lmao. She has so much Lore it's crazy lol.

And that is that! It'll probably be a while before this gets any updates, idk how long, but let me know your thoughts, I love to hear them!

Noah_The_Noah · 2025-10-12T15:42:05+0100

z Suicide Eznutt z said:
Some people even still play Minecraft, and that's like, she doesn't even know how old.

That's incredibly believable lol.
Minecraft has a decent chance of outliving us all.

sethrohan · 2025-10-12T18:07:28+0100

Feels like a copy of New Life As A Max Level Archmage.

ZenithNB · 2025-10-12T19:41:07+0100

this story is so fucking cool. i love this sorta premise, and god damn is it competently executed here. i'm looking forward to more if/when you decide to post it

Timereos · 2025-10-12T19:52:58+0100

I have to agree that the start feels like a copy of the Max Level Archmage but you can already see the framework for a different kind of future. I also love the Overlord inspired past interactions with the devs, it makes the game the MC played more fun.
I'm really looking forward to seeing where you take this story

Teaching Record of the Living Grimoire

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z Suicide Eznutt z

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Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?

ZenithNB

Getting some practice in, huh?

Timereos

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