That night, Eiden sat alone in the library of Bengie's castle, the pendant resting in his palm. The lanterns glowed softly around him, casting warm light across the velvet‑white couch.
He was close.
Closer than he had been in nineteen years.
His body.
His Infinite Grimoire.
His sword.
His glove.
Pieces of himself scattered across the world.
He wanted to surpass the gods, but he also wanted to stop the forces that threatened the world.
The Ten Celestials.
Mages so powerful they were worshipped as gods.
Beings who could destroy nations with a single beam from their fingertip.
But Eiden forced the thought aside.
One goal at a time.
He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, the journey would begin...
A month passed.
Bengie walked through the castle halls, checking the usual places.
The library?
Empty.
The spare bedrooms?
Empty.
The bathrooms?
Empty.
"Where could he have gone…?" Bengie muttered.
He searched every corner of the castle until he reached his own room. He stepped toward the bed and felt a faint click beneath his foot.
A floorboard.
A dim light leaked through the crack.
Bengie's eyes widened.
He walked to his dresser and placed his palm on the crystal embedded in the wall behind it. He channeled mana into it, a deep, ancient aura only black dragons possessed.
The floor rumbled.
Then it split open, parting like a stone mouth.
A staircase descended into darkness.
Bengie walked down.
The air grew colder.
Dustier.
Older.
At the bottom of the stairs lay a massive underground chamber, the forbidden library. Shelves lined the walls, once filled with grimoires so dangerous they were sealed away from the world.
But now…
Every shelf was empty.
Bengie's heart skipped.
He turned his head.
In the corner of the room sat a massive table, and on it lay hundreds of grimoires, all opened, all flipped to their final pages.
Eiden sat in an old wooden chair, legs crossed, a grimoire floating in front of him. His grey eyes scanned the last page with calm precision.
Without looking up, he spoke.
"Didn't expect you to find me so easily. Good job."
Bengie stared at the table.
He read them all…
All eight hundred…
In a month…
He shouldn't have been surprised.
This was Eiden, the elf who mastered more grimoires than anyone in history.
The only mage to ever master nearly every grimoire in existence.
Bengie swallowed and finally found his voice.
"I have a carriage ready for us to travel through the Linn border," he said. "We leave in an hour. Get ready."
He turned and walked back up the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the chamber.
Eiden closed the grimoire, having finished the final word.
He tossed it onto the massive table with the others.
The sound echoed like the closing of a chapter.
Because the next one was about to begin.
An hour passed.
Eiden stepped out of the castle's front doors, the pendant clenched tightly in his small hand. The evening air was cool, brushing against his white suit as he descended the stone steps.
The carriage waited at the gate.
Bengie sat inside, arms crossed, wings folded neatly behind him.
"Come on," Bengie called.
Eiden hurried forward, climbed into the carriage, and sat beside him. The driver, the woman with elegant grey hair, closed the door and flicked the reins.
The horses began to trot.
Eiden watched the world pass by through the window.
The sun dipped lower.
Nobles strolled through the streets.
Children chased each other, laughing.
Merchants shouted their final deals of the day.
He had forgotten how lively the world could be.
Soon, the carriage passed through the kingdom's gates.
The castles disappeared behind them.
The noise faded.
Now there were only trees.
Endless trees.
Eiden felt his body relax.
He yawned softly.
"Wake me only if a monster, demon, or bandit tries to attack us," he muttered. "I may be a baby, but I am an elf. And elves usually sleep for a week…"
He leaned against Bengie's arm and drifted off.
Bengie glanced down at him.
The strongest of the Seven Great Mages… sleeping on his arm like a child.
This journey was becoming stranger by the day.
Days later.
They had been traveling nonstop.
On the third day, the carriage stopped in a grassy clearing. Bengie and the driver stepped out to stretch.
"Ahhh, that feels nice," the driver sighed, her long brown hair glowing in the warm sunlight.
Bengie glanced into the carriage.
Eiden was still asleep.
Three days.
No food.
No water.
No movement.
Yet breathing steadily.
"Elves truly are something else…" Bengie muttered.
The driver climbed back into her seat.
"Shall we continue?"
"Yes," Bengie said. "We're only twelve hours from the border."
He returned to the carriage.
The horses began to move again.
The ride was smooth.
For a while.
Nine hours later, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky orange and gold. The forest glowed with warm light as the carriage rolled along the main path.
It was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
An hour passed.
Then-
Eiden's eyes snapped open.
"Stop the carriage."
The driver yanked the reins.
The horses skidded to a halt.
"What now!?" she yelled.
Eiden opened the door with his mind, the door flying open violently, and floated out, landing softly on the dirt path.
He walked to the front of the carriage and stopped.
"We have an unwelcomed guest," he said. "Or guests."
Bengie stepped out beside him.
The forest went silent.
Then-
A chuckle echoed through the trees.
"You are good… very, VERY good."
A figure rose from the ground itself, ascending slowly.
Black armor.
A cursed, curved sword dripping with dark aura.
Eyes glowing like dying embers.
But that wasn't all.
Three massive shapes emerged from behind the trees.
Black Ogres.
Ranked the 4th deadliest creatures in existence.
Born with monstrous strength, terrifying intelligence, and mastery of Black Magic.
The air warped.
Black rifts spiraled in the sky.
The figure pointed his sword.
"Kill them."
The Ogres roared, a sound that shook the trees.
Black beams of magic shot toward Eiden and Bengie, each one carrying enough force to vaporize a mountain.
Bengie reacted instantly.
His wings tore from his back, spreading wide.
He launched himself into the air, aura swirling around his palm.
He caught the beams, absorbing them, the magic dissolving into his body like fuel.
He hovered above the battlefield, wings beating violently.
"Eiden," Bengie said without looking back, "stay behind me."
Eiden didn't respond.
He simply watched.
The three Black Ogres charged.
The ground cracked beneath their feet.
Trees snapped like twigs.
Magic surged around them in violent waves.
Bengie dove from the sky.
One Ogre swung a massive fist, wrapped in black lightning, aiming to crush him.
Bengie twisted midair, wings folding, body spinning like a spear.
He dodged the blow by inches and slammed his palm into the Ogre's jaw, cracking it.
The Ogre flew backward, crashing through three trees.
The second Ogre roared and unleashed a barrage of black fireballs, each one the size of a boulder.
Bengie spread his wings wide.
A vortex of wind spiraled around him.
He inhaled.
Then exhaled a torrent of black dragonfire.
The flames collided midair, exploding into a shockwave that shook and ignited the trees around into ash.
The third Ogre teleported behind Bengie, a rare ability only the most intelligent Ogres possessed, and swung a blade of condensed black mana.
Bengie sensed it.
He spun, wings slashing outward like blades.
His wings cut through the mana blade, shattering it.
He grabbed the Ogre by the throat, pierced its wing like a blade through its chest, and slammed it into the ground so hard the earth cratered.
But the Ogres weren't done.
All three stood again.
Bloody and wounded.
Their eyes glowed.
They raised their hands.
Black sigils formed in the air, ancient, forbidden runes.
Bengie's eyes widened.
"Those are… Ogre Annihilation Sigils."
The sky darkened.
The air vibrated.
Three beams of pure destruction shot toward Bengie, beams that could erase anything they touched.
Bengie roared, wings flaring.
He flew upward, dodging the first beam.
He twisted, narrowly avoiding the second.
The third beam grazed his leg, burning through his suit and scorching his skin. Blood dripped.
He winced but kept flying.
He gathered aura in his palms, swirling, crackling, violent.
He dove.
Straight toward the Ogres.
The Ogres fired again.
Bengie weaved through the beams, wings slicing through the air like blades.
He reached the first Ogre and slammed his aura‑charged fist into its chest.
The Ogre flew backward, crashing into a boulder that shattered on impact.
The second Ogre teleported behind him again, but Bengie was ready.
He spun, grabbed its arm, and snapped it with a sickening crack.
The Ogre screamed.
The third Ogre unleashed a wave of black lightning.
Bengie raised his wings like shields.
The lightning struck, exploding in a blinding flash.
Smoke filled the air.
The Ogres waited.
The figure watched.
Eiden stood still.
Then-
A gust of wind blew the smoke away.
Bengie stood tall, wings spread, aura burning around him like black fire.
He wasn't done.
He roared, a dragon's roar that shook the forest, and charged again.
Bengie roared through the sky, aura blazing, ready to tear into the Ogres again.
But then his entire body froze.
Mid‑air.
Mid‑breath.
Mid‑rage.
He couldn't move a muscle.
"What the-!?"
His wings locked.
His limbs stiffened.
His aura flickered out like a dying flame.
A calm voice cut through the battlefield.
"That's enough."
Eiden.
With a single thought, he pulled Bengie out of the air and laid him gently behind him on the ground.
Bengie gasped as control returned to his body.
He collapsed onto his knees, panting hard, sweat dripping down his face.
"Hell…" he breathed. "Fighting three of those bastards at once is overwhelming…"
The female driver peeked from inside the carriage, trembling.
Oh gods… I'm going to die out here…
I'm actually going to die…
Bengie forced himself upright.
"Eiden," he warned between breaths, "you're not in a good state to fight yet. You'll get yourself killed."
Eiden turned his head slightly, grey eyes narrowing.
"Bengie. Do you actually think I'm that weak?"
Silence fell.
The Ogres stood beside the armored figure, waiting for the command to slaughter.
Eiden stepped forward.
"I may have limits right now," he said, voice low, "but weakness is not one of them. These four are nothing. Not even close to the monsters I fought in my past life."
He raised his palm.
"Va'volk."
A flash of golden light flickered in his hand… then dimmed.
The armored figure snorted.
"Heh. Was that it? You pathetic little-"
He didn't finish.
Because the world screamed.
A sound like reality tearing apart ripped through the forest.
The golden light in Eiden's palm exploded outward, expanding into a massive beam that swallowed the entire path ahead.
The Ogres didn't even have time to roar.
The figure didn't have time to curse.
The beam hit them with the force of a collapsing star.
A blinding flash.
A shockwave that flattened the earth.
A roar that shook the sky.
The enemies felt their senses vanish.
Their vision burned out.
Their nerves lit up like fire.
Their bodies disintegrated before they could even understand what was happening.
And then-
Silence.
When the light faded, Eiden lowered his hand.
The forest ahead was gone.
Not damaged.
Not burned.
Gone.
Acres of land erased.
The path turned into a barren crater stretching far into the horizon.
The four enemies no longer existed.
Bengie stared, still on his knees.
Shock.
Awe.
Fear.
Respect.
He had never seen a spell like that.
Not even from the Great Mages.
The carriage door creaked open.
The driver stepped out, eyes wide.
"Is it over-?"
She froze.
The trees were gone.
The enemies were gone.
The entire landscape was gone.
"What… what happened…?" she whispered.
Bengie swallowed hard and looked at Eiden.
"If you could use a spell that powerful," he said, voice cold, "why didn't you do it from the start?"
He felt betrayed.
Like he'd been thrown into a fight he didn't need to suffer through.
Eiden turned to him slowly.
"You told me to stay behind you," he said. "You told me, 'I'll handle it. Don't interfere.'"
Bengie blinked.
Eiden continued.
"I was going to deal with them. But I let you fight because you believed you could handle it. And you did."
Eiden's eyes drifted to Bengie's leg, blood trickling down from the burn.
"You could've transformed," Eiden said quietly. "But you didn't. Because you were thinking about our safety."
The driver froze, realizing Eiden was talking about her too.
"You weren't reckless," Eiden said. "You were protecting us."
Bengie's breath caught.
He had misunderstood.
He looked down at the ground, guilt twisting in his chest.
"I… I get it," he said softly. "Sorry. But next time… you could've stopped me."
"You're right," Eiden replied. "I could have."
He stepped closer.
"But Bengie… you should be proud."
Bengie looked up, eyes trembling.
"You stood against three Black Ogres alone. You lasted longer than most Great Mages could. You didn't lose. You proved your strength."
Bengie's throat tightened.
His eyes watered.
Am I crying?
What the hell…?
He felt something he hadn't felt in centuries.
Pride.
Validation.
Warmth.
Like a child hearing "I'm proud of you" for the first time in their life.
He wiped his eyes quickly, embarrassed.
Eiden turned away, cloak fluttering in the breeze.
"We leave in five minutes," he said. "The border is close."
Bengie nodded, still shaken.
This wasn't just a journey anymore.
This was the beginning of something far bigger...