About that... I think I might have an idea.
Lugh had said those words to Lyra, the ones still ringing in her ears.
She looked at him, brow furrowing, then asked directly,
"So... what’s the plan?"
Lugh exhaled, recalling the events of the night before. He had been the one to tell Cassius this—and now, from the way things were unfolding, it looked like he might also be the one expected to see it through.
He spoke, voice low.
"Well, for one, we could ace the selection... without using magic."
Lyra tilted her head in confusion. Then slowly, gradually, understanding dawned.
Her eyes widened.
"Ahhhh! I see."
But before she could say more, a voice interrupted. A deep, resonant baritone neither of them recognized.
"Do you think the selection is a ga?"
The tone was not one of curiosity—it was disapproval, cold and clear.
Both Lugh and Lyra turned their heads at once.
At the top of the luxurious winding staircase, an elf stood.
He was descending slowly, each step deliberate, composed. Loose robes of deep green and gold clung to his body with elegant fluidity, draped just enough to expose his entire upper torso—smooth skin and sculpted muscles glinting under the soft lighting.
Twin cords of thick flaxen hair ran down his back, intricately braided.
Lugh frowned. Another elf.
But this one... he hadn’t seen before.
There was sothing in the man’s eyes.
Displeasure, not just at them—but at the very air they breathed. Lugh found it absurd. That soone who had been eavesdropping would complain about the content of a conversation he had no right to overhear in the first place. It was almost poetic in its hypocrisy.
He refused to indulge the man any further. Their arrogance was contagious.
Lugh glanced at the elf once—dismissively—then turned calmly back to Lyra, resuming the conversation as though the interruption hadn’t occurred. His face, as always, was void of any smile.
The elf chuckled. It was not amused laughter.
Then his tone hardened.
"You dare ignore ?"
And with that, he released a sudden burst of aura.
It slamd into them like a pressure wave. Crushing. Suffocating. The air grew heavy; lungs refused to expand. Lyra staggered. Lugh winced.
But he didn’t back down.
With a sharp breath, he pushed back—his own aura surging outward, eting the elf’s with equal intensity. The space between them rippled.
The two unseen forces collided midair, forming an invisible yet undeniable boundary. Neither retreated.
Furniture nearby groaned. Wood splintered under the strain. The walls vibrated with an ominous hum. And then, the marble floor beneath their feet began to fracture—cracks splitting outward like spiderwebs.
Above them, a crystal chandelier trembled—then shattered, crashing down in a hail of glistening fragnts.
It was only then that others stirred.
Selaphiel burst into the room, voice sharp with fury.
"Siegfried!"
Zhou arrived beside her, blinking rapidly, stunned. Her eyes went to the elf first—processing his face—then her ears caught up to what Selaphiel had just said.
"Eh? Siegfried? You an... the wind god?!"
Lugh noted the na silently, without reaction. Their auras were still locked in place—but he could feel it: Siegfried’s pressure had dropped the mont Selaphiel arrived.
Slowly, it ebbed away. Then it vanished completely.
Lugh followed suit, retracting his own aura.
The elf—Siegfried—spoke again, eyes narrowing.
"Young lad... are you human?"
Lugh frowned. This wasn’t the first ti he’d heard sothing like this.
Selaphiel’s temper flared.
"What did you think you were doing?"
She snapped, directly berating him.
But Siegfried didn’t so much as glance in her direction. His focus remained fixed solely on Lugh.
"Your aura is incomprehensible for a human. Let’s see if that translates into strength."
He snapped his fingers.
A burst of wind—sharp, focused—fired toward them like a bullet, breaking the sound barrier with an earsplitting crack.
The resulting shockwave shattered windows and knocked over furniture in every direction.
Lugh’s body moved on instinct.
A magic barrier flickered into life in front of him, shimring faintly. It t the projectile head-on—and in the mont of impact, Lugh’s expression shifted.
His mana plumted—drastically. More than half, gone in a second.
His eyes narrowed. He dismissed the barrier imdiately and tilted his head aside. The remaining force of the projectile shot past him, colliding with the far end of the hall—shredding it completely.
Lugh’s thoughts raced.
What the hell was that?
A mana-draining technique? No... it couldn’t be. He had raised the shield himself. It was basic magical law—the more powerful the attack, the more mana required to block it. That was all there was to it.
Which ant only one thing.
The strike was just that powerful.
It was only now that Lyra and Selaphiel reacted. Lyra shifted into a combat stance, her hair rising slightly in the magic-charged air.
Sela responded faster—launching a sonic boom in the elf’s direction. The blast tore through the hall.
The entire building shook.
Visibility dropped to zero.
Dust exploded into the air. Walls cracked and splintered.
Then—suddenly—nothing.
When Lugh opened his eyes, the scene had changed entirely.
He was no longer in the hall.
Instead, he found himself outside—in a tranquil garden surrounded by blooming trees and polished stone paths. Beside him were Lyra and Sela, both disoriented, their eyes darting wildly.
They had been moved.
"W-where are we?"
Sela asked, her voice unsteady.
An amused voice answered her.
"You’re safe,"
It said, light and lodic.
They turned—and saw her.
Another elf. Lounging beneath the shade of a flowering tree, the sun filtering gently through the leaves above her. A crystal bowl of glistening red grapes rested at her side. Her gaze was fixed on them, lazy and curious.
She raised a hand slowly, then pointed forward.
The three of them turned.
There it was—the Von Heim main building. Still intact, looming silently a hundred ters away.
"...Ah?"
Sela blinked.
"We’re in the gardens?!"
But how? Just monts ago, she had been in the guest lounge. Now, here they stood.
Lyra spoke next. Her tone sharp with realization.
"Spatial trans—"
She paused, gave up trying to sound technical, then sighed.
"Teleportation. Who exactly are you?"
"Teleportation, huh..."
Lugh muttered. Deadpan.
"Why am I not surprised."
Ridiculous. That was the only word he had left. The kind of abilities these elves could pull from nowhere bordered on absurd.
The elf stretched, then finally spoke. Her voice was sultry and amused.
"Who, ?"
She tilted her head.
"I’m just a random Von Heim. You don’t have to worry about ."
"Random. Right,"
Lugh said flatly.
She gave a sheepish smile.
"Those two would been at it for a while. And I, in all my generousness, did my best to shift you out of there on ti before you were reduced to at paste."
She grinned.
"Wouldn’t you praise ? I don’t demand much—just calling Saviour will do."
She pouted slightly, then pulled a small wooden figurine from beside her.
"Actually,"
She added,
"You should also pray to this statue ten tis a day."
She tossed it at them. Lugh caught it.
It was a lifelike carving. The woman. Every detail—the amused smile, the lazy eyes—was there.
He stared at it. Then scratched his head.
"...Are you being serious right now?"
Even Lyra and Sela glanced at her strangely.
Magic was known to cause madness—but this was the first ti any of them had witnessed it firsthand.
Still, Lugh didn’t let his curiosity falter. Crazy or not, her teleportation had been real. And if the principles of magic held true—then the more unnatural the effect, the harder it was to perform.
And teleporting three humans hundreds of ters away in an instant... that wasn’t just unnatural. It was a miracle.
He asked, carefully,
"May I know your na?"
The woman frowned, displeased.
"I clearly stated my requirents. Why haven’t you changed the way you’re addressing ?"
Lugh fell silent. He glanced at Lyra—still wary, still tense—then turned to Sela, who remained confused and uncertain.
He sighed.
"And how do you want to address you?"
She grinned.
"Oh Great One."
Lugh was speechless. His brows twitched.
But he needed answers.
"Oh Great One... may I know your na?"
Sela and Lyra turned to him, stunned. Neither had expected him to actually say it.
The elf, satisfied, pursed her lips, then finally answered.
"No."
Lugh’s expression darkened. His fists clenched.
"Why not?"
She replied with a mock-serious tone.
"What kind of Great One tells their real na to subjects?"
He stared at her.
"What kind of Great One doesn’t?"
There was a pause. The air turned oddly still. She scratched her head.
"You’re right,"
Then, slowly, she rose from her spot and walked over.
She stopped a few feet from them.
"I am called Seraphina. And yes, I’m a mber of the Von Heim household."
Sela found her voice at last.
"What?! Another elf? Just how many of you are here?"
Seraphina blinked. Then frowned thoughtfully, as if trying to recall sothing important.
Eventually, she replied with absolute sincerity.
"...I honestly don’t know."
This ti, it was Lugh, Lyra, and Sela who froze.
Reviews
All reviews (0)