Talia, a swift and deadly swordswoman, was given the guidance to sharpen her already impressive skills. Her speed and grace were unmatched, and she quickly began to dominate every sparring match, earning the Goddess's favor.

Kael, the arrogant fire mage, harnessed the power of flames in ways no one thought possible. His pride grew with each victory, and he felt certain that he was destined to be the world’s greatest hero.

Alaric, the noble knight, was trained in the arts of combat and strategy. His sense of honor made him the ideal candidate to lead the charge against whatever threats the world would face, and he held the Goddess's guidance close to his heart.

The Goddess watched over them with pride. She knew that these individuals were her true champions. But something felt amiss—since Zydeco's death, she sensed a disruption in the balance of power. Who could have slain such a being? A god? Or something far worse?

Unbeknownst to the heroes she summoned, the Goddess harbored a hidden agenda with the Demons. Kieran had been cast into the Ruins not merely because of his frailty but because she had deemed him an expendable pawn—someone never meant to succeed, only to be discarded.

Then, she sensed a familiar aura—one that had long since disappeared from her sight. A High-Ranking Demon had arrived.

The figure, known as Veydrith, concealed his true nature as he entered the grand training hall. The room, filled with the so-called chosen heroes, fell silent for a moment before one of them scoffed in disdain. Kael, ever arrogant, sneered at the newcomer. "What business does an outsider have in a place of warriors?" he taunted, stepping forward with flames dancing at his fingertips.

The Goddess merely smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Veydrith, would you be so kind as to entertain my hero's challenge?" she said with deceptive sweetness.

The warrior's crimson eyes flickered with amusement. "As you wish, my Goddess," he responded, stepping forward to face the so-called prodigy.

---

The sun hung high over the grand coliseum as the arena roared with excitement. The heroes and warriors gathered in the stands, eager to witness the clash between the two combatants. The Goddess observed from her throne, her gaze unreadable as she watched her pawns move into position. Two years of rigorous training had led to this moment.

Kael stood confidently, flames coiling around his arms like living serpents. His smirk was unwavering as he reveled in the attention. "I'll burn you to cinders, outsider," he declared, raising his hand toward Veydrith.

Veydrith remained composed, his stance relaxed, his expression indifferent. The signal was given, and the battle commenced.

Kael struck first, unleashing a torrent of fire that roared toward his opponent. The air trembled under the heat, and the flames surged forward like a tidal wave of destruction. The crowd erupted in cheers, already expecting the outsider's defeat.

But as the inferno dissipated, Veydrith stood untouched.

Gasps filled the arena as Kael's eyes widened in shock. Without warning, Veydrith moved—a blur of motion faster than any could track. A single step brought him within striking distance, and in an instant, his fist connected with Kael’s gut. The force sent the fire mage crashing into the arena floor, the ground cracking beneath the impact.

Kael coughed, struggling to regain his breath, but Veydrith gave him no time. He seized the fire mage by the collar and hurled him across the battlefield. Kael barely managed to conjure a barrier of flames before he hit the far wall, but even that did little to soften the impact.

The crowd watched in stunned silence. This was no ordinary warrior. And soon, they would realize the truth.

The Goddess, still seated upon her throne, narrowed her eyes. For the first time in a long while, she felt an unfamiliar sensation—unease.

The battle had ended. Veydrith stood victorious, his presence looming over the battered and bruised Kael. The once-arrogant fire mage lay on the ground, struggling to rise. His fellow heroes rushed to his side, offering their hands to help him up, but their gazes remained locked onto Veydrith, filled with anger and disdain. To them, he was a monster—something unnatural.

Yet Veydrith remained indifferent. With measured steps, he approached the Goddess, lowering his head in a show of humility. "Forgive me, my Goddess, if I was too harsh in my demonstration."

The Goddess studied him for a moment before offering a gentle smile. "You fought well, Veydrith. There is nothing to forgive. Strength is necessary, and you have proven yours."

With grace, she rose from her throne and floated towards Kael, her divine aura illuminating the arena. The warmth of her power surrounded the defeated hero as she placed her hand over his wounds. Though her face radiated kindness, deep inside, she harbored ruthless disappointment for his weakness. She whispered words of healing, and his injuries vanished as though they had never existed.

"Rest, my champion," she said sweetly before turning away, leaving the heroes in the arena to reflect on what had transpired.

Veydrith, however, was not done. As the Goddess departed, he discreetly followed her into a secret chamber hidden behind the grand hall. The air in the room was thick with divine energy, a place meant only for the Goddess and those she deemed worthy.

Once inside, the Goddess turned to face him. "You have something to report, I presume?"

Veydrith nodded solemnly. "Zydeco is dead."

The Goddess's eyes widened slightly before narrowing with intrigue. "Dead? That is... unexpected. And who, pray tell, was powerful enough to slay him? A god? Or something far worse?"

Veydrith hesitated for only a moment before delivering the name. "Kieran Valdros."

The Goddess's expression froze. For the first time in a long while, genuine shock flickered across her perfect features. "That weakling? Impossible. My Reading Magic showed no power within him. He was nothing more than a fragile soul doomed to perish."

Veydrith's gaze remained steady. "Your Reading Magic was wrong. Kieran Valdros is not powerless. He is something beyond our understanding."

A heavy silence filled the room as the implications of those words sank in. The Goddess, who had always seen herself as omniscient, now realized she had gravely miscalculated. And for the first time, uncertainty clouded her divine confidence.