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Chapter — The Shattered Enclave
One night. Just one.
Dark—yet luminous at the same time. Threatening shadows prowled beneath this deceptive clarity.
The night was cold. A freezing wind swept through every corner of the sleeping city, tearing shivers from anything that still dared to breathe. Beneath the bright white moon, silence reigned supreme—an absolute, deafening silence, as immobile and oppressive as that of a stone cemetery.
In this park, at the exact center of the open space, stood a blood-red sphere. Its surface was scarred with deep claw marks, as though something had tried to escape it with desperate rage.
Around the enclave, seven guards formed a perfect circle, their weapons all aimed at a single target: a young man.
As the tension rose, the sky darkened. Clouds slowly slid across the white moon, almost completely concealing it, leaving only a massive scarlet moon blazing above them.
Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.
Suddenly, a spear of light crashed down from the sky.
It pierced the shoulder of the young man clad in iron armor with a sharp, violent sound.
— Quish!
The impact hurled him backward. As he struggled to comprehend what had just happened, the blood-red sphere—the Enclave of Torment—cracked… then exploded.
At the exact moment the enclave gave way, a figure emerged from within.
A girl, around fifteen years old, wearing a black rabbit mask marked with the white number 1.
The circular formation shattered instantly. The seven guards were thrown to the ground, coughing up blood, their energy completely drained.
The girl—First—stood at the center, facing the wounded young man.
— Hello, she said calmly. Pleased to meet you, apprentice fighter.
She tilted her head slightly, examining him like a defective object.
— Useless. Flawed. But I forgive you.
Then she sighed.
— This is clearly not how you'll succeed the old S-class veteran. You do know that, right?
She continued, her tone almost disappointed:
— In the end, do you really think you deserve that position? Or will you simply be another impostor?
The young man clenched his teeth, straightened despite the pain, and took a fighting stance.
— I will be his successor! he shouted in fury. Through sheer determination!
He pointed at First.
— And I'll make you regret speaking that way about the Lord Combatant!
He gathered immense momentum and threw a punch meant to crush her.
Ten centimeters from his target, he thought he had hit her… but First had merely stepped aside—calmly, casually, almost impatiently.
In an instant, she neutralized him.
A downward kick crushed his feet, forcing him upright.
Then an uppercut slammed beneath his chin.
The impact sent him flying before he crashed headfirst onto the ground.
— Not very durable for a successor, Aliss remarked.
She continued mockingly:
— And yet the golden creed of the Combatant lineage is clear: fight even in pain, persist even with shattered hands.
If the successor is at this level… then the old man will be around for a long time. He's dragging things out anyway. Getting cranky with age, don't you think?
— Stop it! the young man yelled as he struggled back to his feet, blood streaming down his face.
— I will be a hero. A great hero. I'll become part of this world's great legends… modern myths!
He was trembling, but forced himself to stand.
— You game masters… you're all the same. You trample everything, letting only what you planted yourselves bloom. Everything else can die.
He stared at her, eyes burning.
— To you, everything is just a game. Entertainment. But my words aren't. I'll wipe that smile off your face.
He planted his right foot.
— Today, you will respect my words… and my master's name.
He charged.
Faster than sound.
But First responded with the same motion, still utterly unperturbed.
This time, however, something had changed.
A few meters away, the apprentice accelerated even further, multiplying his speed until he became almost invisible.
In a fraction of a second, Aliss drew the ◇ card and materialized a single shield of light.
The full-speed punch slammed into the shield.
A thought crossed the apprentice's mind:
[I know I might lose… but can players like them understand? Just… just once…]
— AAAAAH!
He screamed with his entire soul. His determination ignited, giving birth to a fragile flame, born from the sparks of his will.
Two lights collided.
The light devoured everything.
Aliss was thrown backward several meters, but she twisted mid-air and immediately lunged forward again.
The apprentice, meanwhile, had his right hand and foot in shreds, his body having ignored every natural limit.
First's shield bore only a single scratch.
She passed by him.
— I thought I saw a little flame, she murmured. Barely enough to light some firewood.
She blew gently.
That simple breath caused the apprentice fighter to collapse.
— Incredibly insufficient.
She then turned toward the others, all frozen, mouths agape.
— I'd advise you not to move while I retrieve the diadem.
She calmly approached the vehicle carrying the cargo, opened the door, and took a small black cubic box, perfectly fitting in her hand.
Then she walked toward a manhole… and jumped inside.
An unconscious guard tried to follow her, but collapsed instantly.
Before vanishing, First's voice echoed one last time:
— That's why I told you not to move.
After her disappearance, one of the spellcasters whispered:
— She had already cast a zone enchantment… at the slightest breach of its conditions, a dagger pierced the heart.
"Chained Hearts."
A more experienced mage added:
— As for us, she contaminated our energy flow at its most fragile point… the moment the Enclave was destroyed.
The youngest dared to ask:
— Is that why she didn't move throughout the entire fight? Like you?
— Exactly, the other replied. She maintained a constant link with the ground, using it as an elemental conductor.
He smiled faintly.
— Consider this a free practical for you, kid.