"In three months, we need to solve the problem of the orcs and the Northern Kingdom, or we all die," Leo said, his tone steady but heavy. His eyes swept across the hall, meeting each of the S- and A-ranks in turn. The weight of the statement seemed to press down on the high stone ceiling.
A thick silence followed, broken only by the faint shuffle of feet and the low hum of whispered conversations among the A-ranks.
After a few moments, Bernal leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. His voice carried authority that demanded attention. "Do you have a strategy?"
Leo inclined his head. "I do. From the Shadowland, my friends are attacking the orcs from behind, disrupting their supply lines and command structure. To the south, Osvald Hemingsson is holding them back, preventing their forces from consolidating. Near the southern flank of Count Errenor Daradia's army, Arthur Caelum will intervene to break the forces aligned with the Prince of the North. If you can finish the orcs here quickly, you will be able to join Osvald's forces and help eliminate the S-rank orc there. Once combined with reinforcements from the Kingdom of Light, our collective power should be sufficient to handle whatever challenges lie ahead."
Oswald's brow furrowed, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. "Why do we have to commit all of our forces to the orcs in the north? Isn't it enough to hold them off?"
Leo leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "If we do not send sufficient force and any of them survive when the God of Magic attacks, they will join with him. That will make everything exponentially harder. A single S-rank might theoretically handle the northern forces alone but we have to be fast. Also the other battlefields are already reinforced. You do not need to worry about them. Here, failure is not an option."
Alexia's eyes narrowed, the slightest crease forming between her brows. "That's not the full reason, is it?"
Leo's lips twisted into a wry smile. She knew him too well. "No, it isn't. For the upcoming battle, I need to enter the Underworld and the Ethereon. Right now, only the Kingdom of Magic has the means to access these realms."
Oswald's jaw tightened, a note of disapproval creeping into his tone. "You should have started with that kid," he said quietly.
Bernal's gaze sharpened, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. "It's true that opening a gate to the Underworld or Ethereon requires an immense amount of mana and a highly complex ritual, which we can provide. But why is it necessary for you to venture into these realms?"
Leo's eyes were steady, his posture calm yet firm. "Because what happens there will decide the outcome of the battle to come. We cannot leave it to chance."
"As I said, this is all in preparation for the upcoming battle," Leo continued, his voice steady and serious.
A tense silence settled over the hall. After several seconds, Bernal exhaled slowly, his shoulders shifting as he leaned slightly forward.
"Very well," he said finally. "Let's put Victor's words to a vote. All those in favor of supporting the proposed action, raise your hand."
Five A-rank mages stepped forward, their expressions resolute. Alexia followed, her posture upright, eyes steady.
Bernal's gaze swept the room. "And all those who do not support this decision?" Hands rose in measured opposition, some hesitant, some firm.
Bernal let his eyes linger on the split vote. Only his own hand remained lowered. He turned slowly to Leo, his expression unreadable. His tone was calm, precise. "Tell me, do you truly believe your friends can hold the enemy at bay until we complete our work here?"
Leo met his gaze without hesitation. "Arthur is an S-rank now; everyone knows of his genius. I also have another S-rank, plus an A5 who is nearly S-rank. There are others as well, all capable. If progress here is delayed before you can send any forces to help them, I have full confidence that they may even defeat the enemy on their own."
Bernal closed his eyes, absorbing the weight of Leo's words. The hall felt heavy, the air thick with unspoken tension. He remained still for several seconds before opening his eyes, the faintest trace of resolve in his gaze.
"Then," he said, voice firm and commanding, "let's see what you and your god are capable of."
Leo allowed himself a small, controlled smile and inclined his head slightly in a bow. "Thank you," he said, his voice carrying calm confidence.
The hall seemed to exhale with the settling of the decision. Even the A-ranks who had hesitated looked at Leo differently now, aware that the stakes, and the power aligned behind them, were far greater than any of them had imagined.
...
When the meeting ended, Leo and Elna followed Alexia through the tall corridors of her tower, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished stone floors.
Alexia turned to face them and sighed, a long, deliberate sound that filled the room. For several moments, she simply stared at them. The silence stretched, and neither Leo nor Elna spoke. They stood quietly, shoulders straight, waiting.
Finally, Alexia opened her mouth and spoke.
"Don't you want to introduce this young lady?" she said, her tone half-teasing, half-chiding.
Leo's eyes widened. Of course, he still hadn't introduced Elna to his teacher. How could he have forgotten something so simple?
He smiled, a little sheepishly. "Master, this is my wife, Elna."
Elna returned the smile and inclined her head in a polite bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Alexia stepped closer, her eyes scanning Elna's face with a sharp, assessing look. Elna felt a brief flutter of discomfort under his teacher's scrutiny. After a moment, Alexia stepped back and smiled.
"You have good eyes," she said, glancing at Leo. "I taught you well." Then her gaze turned to Elna. "It's good to see you, Elna. You are welcome here for as long as you wish."
Leo looked at Alexia with a faintly bewildered expression. You never taught me about girls… he thought wryly.
For the next half hour, the three of them talked, shared stories, and laughed lightly. The air in the tower seemed to grow warmer, less tense, as Alexia allowed herself moments of ease.
Finally, Alexia's expression shifted, curiosity overtaking her amusement. She turned to Leo. "Are you really S-rank now?"
Leo nodded calmly. "Yes."
"How did you reach this level so fast?" she asked, her tone curious but serious.
"I went into the Maze of Madness and spent twelve years training there," he replied evenly.
Alexia's eyes widened in shock. "Maze of Madness? That's impossible. No one has ever returned from there."
"No one until now," Leo said, a self-mocking smile crossing his face. "Because of that, the Mad God wants me dead. And I used werewolf blood as a means to escape, so now the Beast God wants me dead as well."
Alexia exhaled slowly. "Then it is a miracle that you are still alive." She paused briefly before asking the next question, her voice measured. "What is your power now? Every S-rank is unique."
"As the vessel of my god, I can use the Creation Spell."
Alexia's expression shifted immediately, confusion and suspicion flitted across her face.
Leo anticipated her doubt. "That's why I was curious about your spell," he explained. "It was almost the same as the Creator's, and I wanted to understand it. But as the Creator regained his power, I realized the spells are similar but different."
Alexia studied him for a moment but did not linger on the topic.
"If the Creator wins, what happens to you?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know," Leo admitted. "But if he fails, all of us will die, or be enslaved."
Alexia exhaled, a long, measured sigh. "And… what is the next step?"
"I need a way into the Ethereon first," Leo said. "You can deploy forces to attack the orcs while I make preparations."
She nodded. "I will prepare the spell. When I return, you must tell me everything about the Maze and how you escaped it."
"I will," Leo said without hesitation.
When she left, a servant appeared to guide Leo and Elna to another room. The air of the tower seemed quieter now, almost expectant, as if waiting for the next move in a game that could decide the fate of kingdoms.
...
Inside a sealed chamber of the church, Bishop Lars Denker sat at the head of a long table. All of the captains were gathered around it.
Their attention was fixed on the girl standing beside Edmond.
Her long silver hair marked her unmistakably as a vampire, yet her eyes were not the pale blue common to her kind. They were deep crimson, sharp and alert, watching every man and women in the room. The contrast unsettled more than one captain.
Cirnath leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.
"So let me see if I understand," he said slowly. "You want us to introduce the Creator as the new god. While we are still fighting the followers of the God of Light."
Luciana's gaze hardened. "You are too slow. If you hesitate now, we all die."
Arnao Uvo, the newest captain, frowned. "And how exactly do you suggest we do that?"
"Tell the truth," Luciana replied.
The room stirred with quiet disbelief. She met their reactions head-on.
"A part of it."
She had already explained much of the hidden history to them. They could use fragments of it, enough to move hearts without breaking fragile faith.
Lars exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples before speaking.
"Faith is the foundation of our nation. With the God of Light revealed as a false god, we were already searching for a replacement. But introducing a god known only to a few, and only for a short time… that borders on impossible."
Luciana's eyes narrowed.
"Then make it possible. We have fought S-ranks and godlike creatures for years. And now you tell me this is impossible?"
Her words struck hard. No one replied at once.
Edmond broke the silence.
"We begin with the story of the Betrayer," he said. "Then we reveal the force that stopped him."
The word impossible quietly vanished from the room.
One by one, the captains leaned forward, voices rising as ideas took shape. They spoke of sermons, symbols, rewritten histories, and controlled revelations.
What had begun as doubt turned into strategy.
...
Arthur, Briva, and Marco began their journey north, the air crisp and the path stretching endlessly through forests and hills. Whenever they stopped to rest, Arthur used the time to train Marco, pushing him to refine his skills and control his magic. Much of this training took place in the Creator's domain, where time and space bent to their convenience, allowing them hours of practice.
Though Arthur could move freely between his domain and reality, Briva remained vigilant, her senses sharp, constantly scanning their surroundings to ensure their safety.
After several days of travel, the signs of war became impossible to ignore. The forest floor was scarred with blackened trees, burned to splinters. The scent of smoke lingered in the air, mingled with the faint, metallic tang of blood. Corpses lay scattered across the path, some still clutching broken weapons.
Arthur paused and raised a hand. A green light flared from his palm, forming a divination spell that recreated fragments of the recent battle. The air shimmered as ghostly figures of soldiers and commanders moved across the clearing before them.
"The battle happened two days ago," Arthur said, his eyes narrowing. "Count Errenor's forces were forced to retreat, and the northern army pushed forward. Judging by the strength and coordination, there must be an A4 or A5 among them."
Marco frowned. "Why do you think that?"
Arthur glanced at him, then at Briva. "Because I know there are at least two powerful individuals fighting on our side. That means the enemy must be powerful enough to push them back." He turned to Briva. "Keep your eyes open. Scan the area carefully, but stay alert, don't let anyone sneak up on us."
Briva's eyes narrowed. "I already am."
Through the eyes of Ashen, her hawk, she began surveying the surrounding terrain, wings beating silently in the invisible currents of her magic. After a tense moment, she reported, "An army is moving north. At least three thousand soldiers."
Marco's face paled. "Three thousand?"
Arthur did not hesitate. "Then we move." He set off, stepping confidently into the path ahead.
Briva followed, keeping her distance but remaining watchful.
Marco lingered for a moment, swallowing nervously. He looked around once more, then clenched his fists and hurried to keep pace.
The three of them continued north, the remnants of battle and the threat of the approaching army pressing in from all sides.