One finger.

The blade meets it. A burst of moonlight explodes outward in a white shockwave, scattering falling leaves and forcing Cael to shield his face.

When the light fades, Selvaria’s eyes widen.

His finger isn’t even burned.

“Still easy,” Ryu says.

“You—!” Selvaria’s voice cracks with a mix of fury and disbelief. She leaps back, sigils flaring again.

Lunar orbs rotate around her, each humming with pure ancestral energy. She thrusts a palm forward, and the orbs combine into a single beam of compressed moonlight that tears through the air — a beam strong enough to vaporize a wyvern.

The forest lights up in white.

The beam hits Ryu directly, swallowing him in brilliance.

Cael stares, frozen. “Ryu…?!”

The beam fades.

Ryu is standing there, arms in his pockets.

Not a scratch.

“You done?” he asks.

Selvaria’s face twists. “You—haven’t changed at all.”

“I could say the same about you,” he replies calmly. “Still temperamental.”

Her eyes flash, and she thrusts both hands forward.

Fifth Moon — Lunar Devourer.

A massive glyph forms beneath Ryu’s feet — a silver mandala of death-filled radiance. The ground trembles as spiraling moonlight erupts from below, designed to swallow its target whole.

Ryu sighs.

“Yoru.”

Yoru responds instantly.

She manifests behind him — an ethereal, humanoid spirit draped in crescent-silver luminance, her presence bending the air like gravity itself.

No fox tails, no animal form — Yoru Lunaris is one of the Ancestral Origin Spirits, older than most spirits in existence, her form shifting like flowing starlight.

Yoru uses her Spirit sorcery — one of the variants which is only accessible to Ancestral Origin Spirits. And Yoru is one.

Selvaria is shocked by the intervention by an Ancestral Spirit, especially from Yoru Lunaris — the spirit which existed before most of the other spirits, basically one of the Ancestral Origin Spirits.

Selvaria’s eyes widen. “A-Ancestral… Spirit…? That Yoru Lunaris…?”

The shock hits her harder than the spell she was casting.

Yoru lifts her hand and traces a line in the air, releasing a wave that collapses Selvaria’s initial spell formation.
An intervention by an Ancestral Origin Spirit — completely unheard of.

Ryu doesn’t even look back. “Nice timing.”

Yoru hums, her voice resonating in both his mind and the physical air, harmonized and ancient. “You always attract trouble.”

Selvaria grits her teeth, but she isn’t done.

She leaps into the air, gathering Moonborne energy into a single condensed point — the brightest she can conjure.
The sky darkens as the spell takes shape, forming a colossal crescent moon above her, hanging like a divine guillotine.

An ultimate technique:

Cael whispers, horrified, “She’s gonna drop a moon on him?! Is this normal here!?”

Selvaria swings her arm. “Moonborne Art: Cataclysmic Moonfall.” The crescent crashes down like a falling star.

Trees bend. Rocks split. The earth howls under lunar pressure.

Ryu uncrosses his arms.

“Alright. My turn.”

He raises a single finger — nothing dramatic, nothing exaggerated.

And Yoru’s energy doesn’t merge into him this time. It merely stabilizes the space around him so he can safely access his own creation.

Blue-white arcs crackle around his arm, shaping spirals that twist backward in time for a breath. The air becomes dense, old, and impossibly deep — like the world suddenly remembers its ancient laws.

Selvaria’s breath catches.

“That’s— Arcane... Primordial Sorcery...?!”

He sweeps his finger downward.

The world reacts.

A ripple of Arcane Primordial Sorcery bursts outward — invisible, silent, but crushing.
It is the sorcery that existed before sorcery, a formula woven directly into the raw foundation of magic itself — something Ryu authored eight centuries ago.

Only a handful in the world could even perceive it. Only he could wield it perfectly.

The crescent moon slams into the invisible wave.

Silence— Then—

CRACK.

The crescent shatters like fragile glass. Fragments of moonlight drift harmlessly through the air, fading as they fall.

Selvaria freezes midair, disbelief chiseling itself across her face.

“You… broke a Moonborne ultimate… with Arcane Primordial…?”

Ryu looks up at her. “I told you. You’re predictable.”

Selvaria lands, knees buckling from the recoil of her own shattered spell. She forces herself upright, pride battling exhaustion — and losing. The tremor in her hands betrays the cost.

Ryu walks toward her casually — calm, steady, and absolutely overwhelming. No pressure, no killing intent. Just presence.

“Still want to continue?”

Selvaria opens her mouth — to protest, to scream, to challenge — but nothing comes out.

Her mana flickers like a dying candle.

She knows. She lost. Again.

And Ryu... didn’t even fight seriously.

Yoru flows forward beside him, her form shimmering like silver mist in a humanoid silhouette.

“At least she tried,” she says encouragingly.

Yoru turns to Ryu and sighs, glancing at him. “You should save your mana. You’ll need it when we reach Elyndoriel.”

Ryu replies carelessly. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

On the other hand, Selvaria is burning with frustration. It’s the truth she accepted centuries ago:

Ryu isn’t someone she can surpass easily. And today... he barely used more than a fraction of his true power.

Cael rushes over, eyes wide.

Ryu lifts one arm lazily overhead in a casual stretch and says “That was a good warm up.”

Cael crosses his arms, raising a brow. “If that was your warm-up, I’m scared to see what you call ‘serious.’”

Selvaria, still trying to hide how badly her pride is stinging, fixes her posture and steps toward the barrier. She pauses — not to bow or revere, but to simply acknowledge.

“...Yoru Lunaris. A pleasure to meet you properly.”

Yoru gives a gentle smile, bright and warm. “And to you. You fought with conviction — that’s admirable.”

Ryu immediately swings his arm behind his head and cuts in with full smugness.

“Quite the contrast between my familiar and me, huh?”

Yoru lightly elbows him with a playful huff. “Keep boasting and I’ll start ignoring you.”

Selvaria’s eye twitches — mostly at Ryu — but she forces her voice steady as she turns to him.

“As long as you don’t cause trouble in Elyndoriel, we won’t have a problem.”

Ryu shrugs with infuriating ease. “No guarantees.”

Then Selvaria faces Cael, actually looking at him properly for the first time.

“You held your ground without panicking. Elyndoriel values those who observe before acting. You may enter.”

Cael smirks, confident and composed. “I wasn’t planning on staying outside anyway.”

With a sigh that’s half annoyance, half acceptance, Selvaria raises her hand. The barrier ripples like liquid glass and parts open, revealing Elyndoriel: crystalline arches, moon-forged trees, floating petals of silver mana — a quiet realm of ancient brilliance.

“Welcome to Elyndoriel.”

Ryu strolls in with a laid-back attitude while his magical robe is up and his arms in his pockets swagger. Yoru glides beside him, luminous and gentle. Cael walks forward steady and alert.

Elyndoriel’s Whispering Streets to Aeris’ Declaration

The barrier closed behind Ryu, Cael, and Yoru, sealing with a deep hum that vibrated through the ancient forest. Inside, the capital unfolded like a world untouched by time — crystalline trees rising like spires, pathways woven from moonstone, bridges shimmering in subtle arcs of light. Ethereal lanterns floated midair, casting cool blue glows across the streets.

And Ryu walked through all of it with his robe pulled over his head, hiding his face.

To the elves passing by, he was just another traveler — though a tall one with a ridiculous amount of suppressed mana leaking through every step. Cael walked beside him, craning his head in every direction to take in the beauty of the capital. Yoru drifted along in her humanoid spectral form, a wisp of silver fluidity shaped like a woman with drifting tails of spirit-light.

“First time here?” Cael whispered, eyes wide.

“Not mine,” Ryu replied flatly. “Yours, yes.”

Cael ignored the jab and kept staring, stunned by the floating architecture. “This place looks like it was carved from the night sky…”

“It was,” Yoru replied with a soft smirk. “The elves of Elyndoriel shaped their capital following the constellations.”

As they walked, the air subtly shifted — not with hostility, but with awareness.
Elves nearby paused, their eyes narrowing slightly as they felt something… odd.

Not dangerous.

But ancient.

And vast.

A presence under a robe.

Ryu noticed their gazes but didn’t care. His goal was singular.

“We’re going to the Elven Guild,” he said, voice low. “Only one person in Elyndoriel has the information we need.”

Cael perked up about meeting new people that are strong.

“Two of them,” Ryu corrected, “one is still hidden even from this nation.”

“And the person who has the info is…?” Cael asked, his tone a bit curious.

“You’ll see.” Ryu replied plainly.

Yoru floated beside him. “You’ll like her. Maybe. She’s strong.”

Ryu sighed. “That’s the problem.”

Cael blinked. “Wait—you know her?”

“She’s hard to forget,” Ryu muttered.

They turned a corner.

The Elven Guild stood like a temple of starlight — a towering structure etched with constellations, its walls gleaming with moon-crystal and astral-metal. Twin crescent statues flanked the entrance, their eyes glittering softly.

Ryu stepped inside.

The interior was vast and circular, layered like an arena but filled with mission boards, shimmering magical screens, tables, and warriors of every rank. Elves stopped mid-conversation as the three entered, most glancing toward Cael and Yoru, only a few noticing the robed figure in the center.

But one person noticed immediately.

Because mana speaks louder than appearance.

High above, standing on a raised balcony, was a woman with flowing pale-blue hair, her attire shaped from celestial cloth, decorated with streaks of gold that glimmered with shifting constellations. Her eyes — deep amethyst with faint star-shaped pupils — narrowed the moment Ryu stepped through the doors.

Elyndra Aeris.

Elyndoriel’s strongest warrior.

The Astral Arbitress.

She didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t hesitate.

Her mana sharpened instantly — not hostile, but keen, like a blade identifying another blade.

Yoru sighed. “Oh dear. She sensed you already.”

Cael whispered, “Who is she…?”

“You’ll learn,” Ryu muttered.

A moment later—

Aeris vanished from the balcony.

One instant she was above them.
The next — her figure blurred into a streak of astral light and appeared directly in front of Ryu, the floor cracking slightly beneath her sudden stop.

The entire Guild froze.

Not a sound.

Not a breath.

Aeris stared at the robed figure before her, eyes narrowing further.

Then —

“…That mana signature.” Her voice was soft, elegant — but trembling with restrained excitement. “No one else has that kind of suffocating, ancient density.”

Cael tensed.

Yoru folded her arms in amusement.

Aeris whispered, but loud enough for the whole hall to hear:

“…You.”

Ryu clicked his tongue. “Don’t.”

Aeris inhaled deeply.

Ryu took a step back. “Don’t you dare.”

Aeris smiled — slow, wicked, amused, elegant.

Then she raised her voice — clear, ringing, echoing through the entire hall:

“The Arcane Sovereign — Ryu Aetherion.”

The Guild shattered into chaos.

Whispers erupted instantly:

“The Arcane Sovereign?!”
“That can’t be—didn’t he disappear centuries ago?”
“His sorcery created half the modern systems—he’s a living relic!”
“Why would he come here?”
“Is he hiding his presence? That robe—why hide his face?”
“Does the Council know? Should we alert—”
“No, idiots! Don’t provoke him! That man can erase half the capital if he sneezes wrong!”

Dozens stepped back instinctively.

A few knelt outright.

Some stared in awe, trembling.

Others whispered about sorcery techniques he invented… spells he mastered… wars he ended… calamities he walked through.

Ryu let out the longest, most painful sigh of his life.

“…You really had to say it.”

Aeris tilted her head slightly, lips curving into a graceful, teasing smile. “You came into my Guild with that robe, leaking that much mana, and expected me not to say your name?”

Cael stared at Ryu. “You’re… That Ryu?!”

“Yes,” Ryu muttered, already annoyed. “Apparently.”

Whispers continued growing around them, but none dared approach.

Aeris stepped forward, closing the distance by a fraction.

“Ryu Aetherion,” she said softly, “remove your robe.”

He glared at her.

She smiled wider.

“It’s rude not to greet an old acquaintance properly.”

Ryu exhaled sharply, slid his hand up, and pulled the robe down from his head.

Void colored hair spilled out. Undeniably striking eyes — calm, cold, ancient — met hers directly.

A ripple swept through the Guild.

Aeris inhaled slowly, as if appreciating the confirmation of her senses.

“…Still as irritatingly composed as ever,” she murmured.

Ryu folded his arms. “You going to tell them why you shouted?”

Aeris ignored his question.

Instead, she turned slightly, gazing at the gathering elves.

“Everyone,” she announced, “you may continue your work. The Arcane Sovereign is not here as an enemy.”

The elves obeyed — stiffly, awkwardly, some still trembling — but they slowly returned to their posts, though their eyes stayed locked on Ryu.

Aeris’ attention returned to him.

“You’re here for information.” Not a question. A certainty.

Ryu nodded. “And you have it.” Another certainty.

Aeris’ smile returned — elegant, sharp, almost excited.

“Then,” she whispered, lowering her voice just for him, “you know the rule.”

Ryu’s eyebrow twitched. “Don’t say it.”

But she did.

“With me…” A step forward. “...information is earned...” Another step, her amethyst eyes shimmering. “…through…”

Yoru groaned. “Here we go again.”