Seeing that they are ready, Bonbon nodded with approval.
"That’s good to hear. But since going to Austerra right now is suicide, I have special preparations for both of you. Follow !"
The tiny punto bounced with excitent, resummoning a swirling dinsional portal in a flash of shimring light.
Without hesitation, Bonbon leapt into it, his small fra vanishing into the spinning vortex, leaving it open and humming for Auren and Austaire.
The two exchanged a glance. Their smiles faded into serious expressions.
Both of them can feel it. The mont they step into this portal, their lives will never be the sa again.
’I wonder what he has prepared for us,’ Auren thought, tension stirring in his chest.
"Is it safe to follow it through that?" Austaire asked, a nervous quiver in her voice.
"Don’t worry, it’s safe," Auren reassured, though even he wasn’t entirely sure.
Before stepping forward, Auren’s eyes caught movent in the distance.
There—several elves were watching them.
"Everyone..." he said with a faint smile, his gaze sweeping over them.
Though his first encounter with the elves of Runewood had been far from pleasant, the trials they shared had forged him into who he was now—stronger, sharper, and tempered like steel in fla.
Austaire followed his line of sight and spotted the rest of the elves. They stood motionless among the trees, so still they might have been part of the forest itself.
’Thanks Ovan.’ she whispered to herself.
She imdiately dipped into a respectful bow. If Ovan hadn’t warned her beforehand, she might never have noticed them—silent watchers half-veiled by distance and the shifting weave of branches.
In the far clearing stood Gondar, Leon’do, Anast’cia, and Micha’el. Behind them lood the three tribal leaders—Mathes, Rhiki, and Kardel—flanked by the elders, their weathered faces carved by the quiet weight of centuries.
They had all co to see Auren off. The air between them was a tapestry of unspoken feelings—so eyes heavy with sorrow, others holding only the cool relief of a burden lifted.
Auren straightened his back, then lowered himself into a deep bow. His fist rose high into the air, the gesture sharp and deliberate—a salute of profound honor among the elves.
From the distance, the gathered elves mirrored the act, bowing with fists raised, their solemnity carried on the wind.
The breeze drifted east to west, carrying with it the living scent of Runewood—evergreen, faintly sweet, tinged with magic. Auren breathed it in deeply, committing it to mory and its people with it.
Then, from the thickets, a mystical blue bird erged. Its feathers shimred as though inked by moonlight. In its talons, it carried an ancient-looking book, its leather binding weathered but thrumming with quiet power. It hovered before Auren, its wings stirring the air.
The queen’s voice ca through the bird, warm yet regal.
"I bid you farewell, Auren. And as queen of the Runewood, I thank you again for your bravery in saving our sacred land and people. Please, accept this gift as my farewell."
The bird released the book. Auren caught it effortlessly, his fingers brushing over the tiworn cover. His breath hitched when he read the title.
"Queen Mother... are you sure about this?"
"Yes. That gift was requested by Lord Bonbon himself for you. He said it will help. And though I would treasure it in our archives, he convinced it is for the greater good of all."
Auren flipped the cover open and skimd the contents. The diagrams, scripts, and secrets it held were beyond rare—beyond priceless.
I’ve been searching for this kind of book for years... This is a miracle.
"What’s that book about?" Austaire asked, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. She couldn’t read the looping ancient Elven script, and though she spoke Kalibun, their dialect was lost to her.
Auren smiled, victorious.
"Basically, it’s a book on how to win against Austerra."
With a few more parting words to Jeis and the others, Auren and Austaire stepped into the dinsional portal. The air twisted, light folding in on itself, and then they were gone. The portal sealed shut with a faint hiss.
Back in the clearing, an elder turned to Mathes.
"Lord Mathes... do you know what book the queen gifted Auren? I have never seen it in our archives."
Mathes’s brow furrowed. "I do. But I doubt he can use it. In fact, I do not understand why the queen gave it to him. The book is unreadable—only she can decipher it."
A murmur of surprise passed through the elders.
"Unreadable? Does she know its title?"
Mathes’s gaze hardened. "She called it Introduction to True Magic."
Auren and Austaire spun through a swirling, dizzying tunnel of light. The walls of the passage shimred like molten glass, and their bodies stretched and warped as if they were rubber pulled too far.
When an opening finally appeared, they tumbled through it—straight into the middle of a shouting match.
"You stupid tiny beast! What do you think I am? A slave?!"
"Aren’t you? Now do it!" Bonbon shot back, his voice ringing with unearned authority.
They were in a cramped, chaotic room. Books, magical tools, and artifacts cluttered every surface. Diagrams and runic inscriptions covered the walls in overlapping layers, like a mad scholar’s diary brought to life.
’This place... whoever owns it knows magic. Knows it well,’ Auren thought, his gaze drifting over crystalline devices and parchnt marked with incomprehensible formulas.
The argunt continued without pause.
"For the last ti, I won’t! Do you have any idea the trouble I got into last ti I made such a dangerous artifact? The gods might kill for real this ti!"
"Do you perhaps forget who I am? Aren’t I a god to you?"
"Who gives a damn if you’re a primordial?!"
"I could kill you easily, you know."
"Then please do! I’d rather die than ddle with Divine Fras again!"
Bonbon leaned closer, grinning. "I will... but first, make that sa fake Divine Fra you did for that crazy fool."
"I told you—it’s not easy! Tampering with Divine Fras is dangerous, costly, and practically impossible. Do you know how much mana and rare material it takes?"
"It’s just playing with lights. How hard can it be?"
"Then make it yourself!"
"Nah. I pass."
The man they were arguing with looked to be in his fifties—gray-eyed, long ssy brown hair, pale skin, and a bulging stomach beneath the tattered robes of a weary scholar. His face wore the expression of soone who had been tired for a very long ti.
As Bonbon and the man bickered, the latter’s gaze finally snapped to Auren and Austaire.
"And what in the freaking world of Kalibu did you drag into my sanctuary this ti?"
Bonbon tilted his head toward them. "Them? They need your help too."
"You an—"
"Yes, Gringo. I want you to make fake Divine Fras for all of us."
Silence. Then Gringo slamd the floor with his foot.
"Kill now."
Auren’s eyes locked on the man, reading the floating text above his head:
*
Na: Gringo
Level: -13
Title: Who cares?
Class: Lights go Brrrr~
*
Both Auren and Austaire stiffened.
What in the...?
Bonbon grinned. "Alright, et my good friend Gringo!"
Gringo was yanked across the room by a sudden surge of gravity magic, landing on a chair near them. The stench hit instantly—months of unwashed clothes and sweat.
"He will help us create a new identity," Bonbon announced.
"I never agreed, stupid punto."
"You will."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because I’m that cool."
"What a load of crap."
Auren and Austaire exchanged glances. Whoever this man was, he had the guts to talk to Bonbon without fear—a rare quality indeed.
"Did Bonbon say this man can create a fake Divine Fra?" Austaire asked quietly.
"That’s what I heard," Auren replied.
"But I thought it was impossible. The gods decide our Fras at birth."
"I thought so too," Auren said, his mind racing. If it’s true, I could hide the Fraless Freak title. Austaire and I could disguise ourselves... maybe even walk through Austerra without drawing suspicion.
Gringo’s eyes suddenly widened. "Wait a minute... Is my vision tricking ?"
He stepped forward, staring at Auren, then at the empty space above his head, then back at Auren. His voice shook. "Is... is this the human born without a Divine Fra?"
Bonbon popped a small portal open and perched on Auren’s shoulder. "I brought him here because I knew you’d like him."
"Like him? He’s perfect! Without a Fra, he’s a blank canvas!"
Gringo grabbed Auren’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically.
"A-Auren," Auren replied, inching back from the man’s sll. Creepy. And reeking.
"Welco to my sanctuary!"
Gringo turned to Austaire, glanced at her Fra, then lost interest almost imdiately, his focus snapping back to Auren. Austaire’s eye twitched, but she bit her tongue. Small disrespect. Not worth killing him over.
"Allow to fully introduce myself," Gringo said. He slipped off a bracelet, and in a flash of light, his body transford.
The sll vanished. His hair beca neat, his beard finely trimd. His robes beca elegant, pressed, and richly embroidered. His posture straightened, and his presence shifted from slouching slob to dignified scholar.
Above his head, the Divine Fra changed:
Na: Gregorio De SugaLevel: 59Title: Strike TwoClass: Light Painter
Both Auren and Austaire froze.
"My real na is Gregorio De Suga, though I still prefer Gringo," he said with a smirk. "I am the only one with the unique Light Painter class..."
Then with a confident smile, he added,
"...and my specialty is tampering with Divine Fras."
Reviews
All reviews (0)