Five hours earlier...
Five hours before the King received the declaration of war, the great war room in the City of Marciler was bathed in the golden light of chandeliers and crystal lamps, casting dancing shadows against the stone walls. The atmosphere was heavy, charged with uncertainty. Around the strategy table, The Nova were gathered, their expressions ranging from curiosity to impatience.
Darian Vorthos, a man of imposing bearing with short silver hair, crossed his arms. His golden eyes gleamed with the intensity of a predator analyzing its surroundings before a strike. "Why have we all been summoned here?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a command.
"And more importantly," intervened Selene Draeven, a woman of dark complexion and a sharp gaze, "where is the Empress? She has never called us together without being present herself."
The Empress's assistant, a middle-aged man in black and gold ceremonial robes, remained serene. He bowed slightly. "My Lady will not be long. She is attending to a matter of great importance that will be addressed today in this very meeting."
The Nova exchanged doubtful glances. The Empress was a calculating leader; if she was late, the matter was of the utmost urgency.
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The main door swung open with a heavy thud. Empress Domia entered with the majesty of a deity among mortals. Her purple robes trailed behind her, and her cold, calculating gaze scanned every person present before she took her seat on the ivory throne at the head of the table.
"Greetings, great elite of the nobility known as The Nova," she said, her voice filled with authority. "I have summoned you because we have a matter to attend to."
The murmurs died instantly. Cliver Soldemour, with his haughty posture, leaned forward. "My Lady, what is the matter for which you have called all members of The Nova?"
Domia traced a frozen smile. "Calm yourselves. The subject at hand is the invasion of the territory belonging to the King of the adventurer city, Lunarys."
A whisper of surprise rippled through the hall. Iridelle Vauclair, her hair silver and her eyes sharp as daggers, frowned. "My Lady, why would we invade a small city of adventurers? There are only weak commoners there who represent no threat."
Domia nodded calmly. "Yes, I know. That is why that territory will become ours. And with it, those commoners will be turned into slaves of Marciler."
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Shalok Vendrax, his fists clenched on the table, spoke with a voice thick with tension. "My Lady... but in that place dwells the commoner who defeated me. He is remarkably strong. He is no ordinary enemy."
Domia’s expression turned severe. "It is true he is strong—I admit it. I personally verified his power. I sent him to the Dark Lands long ago, intending for him to die at Lip's hands. However, that incompetent fool perished at Acalia's hands. At the very least, he fulfilled the mission of 'assassinating' that commoner."
She paused, her lips tightening. "I did not think he would be resurrected... nevertheless, that will not be a problem. This time, you will be empowered by my own strength. That commoner will no longer represent a threat."
The Nova held their breath. A power granted by the Empress herself was an indescribable honor—a guarantee of absolute victory.
"We will invade those lands in fifteen days," Domia announced. "I was benevolent. I allowed them time to flee because I know only the strongest will remain. We surpass them in power, and we shall subjugate them as slaves of Marciler. Weak people are of no use to me. Our true prey are those few strong ones who remain."
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Domia leaned back against her throne, a cruel smile on her lips. "Moments ago, I sent a letter to the King. When he receives it, he will panic," she declared with malicious amusement. "Furthermore, there is no other kingdom willing to cooperate with his. Hahaha!"
The hall echoed with laughter. Cliver Soldemour struck the table with his fist. "Then we shall crush that tiny territory without any opposition!"
"Gather the nobles from outside the walls and tell them to prepare for the invasion," Domia ordered with supremacy. "In fifteen days, Lunarys will be reduced to ashes, and the whole world will bow before my power."
Present Day...
Biel was about to leave the guild when Niccolò's voice stopped him. "Wait, Biel. Before you go, you have to register these two ladies."
Biel turned and nodded, scratching the back of his head with a smile. "That’s true, they haven’t registered with the guild yet," he said, looking at Yumi and Aine, who glanced at each other with expectation.
Niccolò smiled calmly. "Don't worry, we'll settle that right now."
Soon after, the receptionist entered the room holding a glowing sphere. She placed it on a pedestal and handed several documents to Yumi and Aine. "Fill out your information here," she explained. "The blank sections will be completed automatically once you touch the sphere."
Yumi went first. She extended her hand confidently and rested her fingers on the crystalline surface. A blue radiance filled the room for a few seconds before a rank appeared in the air: Rank A.
A murmur of surprise rippled through the office. Niccolò arched an eyebrow, incredulous. "Vaya, this is unexpected. The sphere usually only assigns up to Rank B. This is truly peculiar."
Biel smirked, crossing his arms. "You’re reacting quite calmly for someone who just saw something so rare," he teased.
Niccolò let out a soft laugh. "After you turned out to be Rank Z, nothing surprises me anymore."
Then it was Aine's turn. She took a deep breath and touched the sphere delicately. The effect was immediate and catastrophic. The sphere glowed with a blinding intensity before cracking in multiple directions. A sharp snap echoed through the room, and in seconds, the sphere shattered into pieces.
The receptionist recoiled in horror. "W-what happened? Why did it break?"
Biel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s... complicated to explain, but in short, she is a Fragment of the Infinite."
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Once the registration was finished—with Niccolò assigning Aine a "cover" Rank B to avoid suspicion—the group headed back to the inn. As the sunset tinted the sky in warm hues, Biel gathered everyone.
"We have a massive problem ahead," he said gravely. "In fifteen days, this territory will be at war with Marciler."
The silence was absolute. Acalia clenched her fists. "My power is great, but it won't be enough."
"Our power levels are too low right now," Raizel added. "That was clear in the last battle against Shalok and Cliver."
Easton swallowed hard. "If you, the strongest, couldn't face them... what chance do we have?"
Even Charlotte looked at her hands with doubt. "I still don't know the extent of the power I received from the god... I can't master it in just fifteen days."
Suddenly, Aine broke the silence with absolute determination. "Then I will train you all."
Biel raised an eyebrow. "You? Train us in such a short time?"
Aine smiled confidently. "Yes. And don't worry, time won't be a problem. You will train for six months in just ten days."
"Six months in ten days!?" Xanthe exclaimed.
"That's right," Aine confirmed. "I will use my power to transport us to a dimension where time flows differently. Inside that space, time will move according to my will."
Biel let out a laugh of pure excitement. "That's perfect. In ten real days, we can train for a full six months."
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As everyone began to prepare, Ylfur stepped forward and bowed. "My Lord, I will not enter the dimension with you. I will go to train in the Demon World."
Biel frowned, intrigued. "The Demon World?"
"As a demon, it is the perfect place for me to strengthen myself and reach my maximum potential. I will return in fourteen days, one day before the battle."
Biel smiled with approval. "I understand. It makes sense. Go, Ylfur. We trust you."
The clock of war had begun its countdown. Every member of the team knew they had to reach their peak if they wanted a chance against the might of Marciler.
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