For a moment after Helena spoke, the room went quiet.

  Riona did not react immediately. She simply looked at Helena, as if trying to confirm what she had just heard. For a brief second she even wondered if she had misunderstood the words.

  Then she spoke again, calm and composed.

  “Come with me, child. It is—”

  Helena raised a hand slightly and cut her off.

  “As I already said, no thanks,” she replied plainly. “I don’t want to become a birdy or anything like that. And I definitely don’t want to serve someone I don’t even know.”

  Riona sighed softly. The sigh carried the tone of an adult dealing with a stubborn child.

  “Girl, I was not asking,” she said patiently. “Some matters are not decided by personal preference. They are decided by fate. This is one of those matters. You cannot refuse the will of Her Majesty. You will come with me.”

  Helena tilted her head slightly.

  “Hey. What was your name again?”

  “Captain of the First Legion of Goddess Thymera’s Divine Army,” Riona replied evenly. “Riona.”

  Helena nodded once. “I only asked for your name though.”

  Before Helena could continue, Riona interrupted.

  “I am not trying to bait a mortal with empty promises,” she said, her tone turning more instructive. “But you should understand what you are refusing. As an angel, you will live for thousands of years. If you prove your potential and rise in rank, you may live for ten thousand years or more under Her Majesty’s grace.”

  She paused.

  “Do you still wish to refuse?”

  Her voice remained calm because she already understood the nature of mortals. Longevity was the simplest and most effective temptation. Humans lived barely a century if they were lucky. One hundred years, perhaps one hundred and twenty at most. Compared to elves who lived five hundred years or beastkin who could reach one hundred and fifty, humans always felt the pressure of time.

  Riona expected hesitation.

  Helena did not hesitate.

  “It doesn’t matter how long I live,” Helena said. “I don’t need thousands of years to enjoy my life. If I’m satisfied tomorrow, I’d accept death without a problem.”

  She paused, then added more quietly,

  “Watching someone you care about grow old and die… or worse, turn into something that’s neither living nor dead while you keep going on, that part really sucks.”

  Riona studied her eyes carefully. Human emotions were always easy to read there. They surfaced through the eyes before the face changed. What she saw now was not fear. It was something closer to sadness mixed with irritation.

  “You are still young,” Riona said calmly. “You are still tied to worldly attachments. Once you serve Her Majesty, you will eventually understand—”

  “SHUT UP.”

  The interruption came sharp enough that the air in the room stiffened.

  Riona blinked once.

  “Child—”

  “I SAID SHUT UP.”

  The second time Helena raised her voice, the difference was obvious.

  Laysandra and Elowen both froze. They had seen Helena joking, teasing, playing around. They had not seen this version of her before.

  Krome quietly slid the notebook he had taken out for Riona’s autograph back into his pocket.

  Helena looked directly at Riona now.

  “I don’t give a damn about anything you’re offering.”

  Riona’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “Girl,” she said more firmly, “you are becoming quite rude. I will not tolerate further disrespect.”

  Her voice hardened.

  “Sometimes adults must guide the young toward the correct path. What I am offering you is not just a path. It is the best path. You will come with me. That decision has already been made.”

  A faint pressure began to form in the room.

  “Even if I must use force.”

  Helena stared at her for a second.

  Then she laughed once.

  “Ha…”

  Her expression shifted into a crooked smile.

  “Hypocrite.”

  She leaned back slightly and gestured toward herself.

  “Then go ahead,” Helena said. “Take me with that ‘force’ of yours.”

  The tension in the room had already reached its peak.

  Krome had quietly shifted his stance without anyone noticing. Every last drop of mana he had was flowing into his legs. His only plan was simple. The moment something exploded, he would run. No hesitation. No pride. Just survival.

  Elowen had also prepared herself. The muscles across her arms and shoulders tightened as she pushed her body enchantment to its limit. Thin white steam began to rise from her skin where the pressure on her muscles grew too intense. She was ready to move at any second.

  Meanwhile, Riona and Helena had not moved at all.

  They were locked in direct eye contact.

  Neither blinked.

  Helena suddenly spoke without breaking that stare.

  “Hey, Elowen.”

  “Yes, milady?”

  “Protect both of them.”

  Elowen’s eyes shifted briefly toward Laysandra, who was barely holding herself together, and toward Krome, whose legs had already begun shaking.

  Inside his head, Krome was screaming.

  This is way too much trouble for one damn cup of tea.

  Elowen hesitated. “But milady… who will protect you? You can’t—”

  She never finished the sentence.

  Something changed in the room.

  Another pressure descended, and this one was far heavier than Riona’s divine presence. It did not feel holy or sacred. It felt dense. Helena was releasing Aether outside of her body. If Riona’s divine presence felt holy, then Helena’s Aether pressure felt more like the raw presence of a living being.

  Helena stood at the center of it.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  Her Perfect Human body had always hidden its nature well. Most people saw nothing more than an ordinary human because the energy inside her never leaked outward. The vessel was flawless, so the power stayed contained.

  But inside that vessel was something different.

  The Philosopher’s Stone continuously generated Aether. Her body continuously absorbed it. A perfect vessel paired with an endless source of energy. It was the reason she possessed an endless lifespan.

  Helena had lived with that system running for years without ever reaching its limit.

  To outside observers, she looked normal.

  Now the room could feel what had always been hidden.

  Elowen’s eyes widened.

  Her instincts screamed before her thoughts caught up. Her beast-like senses recognized strength instantly.

  Far stronger than her.

  Maybe the strongest she have ever seen.

  Elowen did not hesitate any longer. She grabbed Laysandra with one arm and quickly seized Krome by the collar before he could start running on his own.

  “Hold tight,” she said.

  Helena rolled her shoulders lightly and cracked her fingers.

  “Thanks for waiting,” she said calmly. “Now we can begin.”

  She stepped forward slightly and raised her fists into a loose boxing stance.

  Riona remained still. Her gaze had grown sharper.

  “I do not want innocent people caught in this fight,” she said. “I can wait until the building is evacuated.”

  Helena shook her head.

  “No need.”

  She pointed toward the large window behind Riona.

  “See that window?”

  Riona glanced at it.

  “I don’t want to damage my home,” Helena continued casually. “So I’m going to send you through that one.”

  Riona frowned slightly, not fully understanding the comment.

  She was about to respond.

  Helena moved first.

  The distance between them vanished instantly. By the time Riona turned her head back, Helena’s fist had already slammed into her abdomen.

  The impact sounded like a cannon blast.

  The window shattered before Riona’s body even reached it. Glass exploded outward as the force drove her backward in a perfectly straight line. She tore through the window frame and ripped a large section of the wall apart as her body was launched outside.

  Stone and glass rained down behind her.

  For a brief moment, Helena stood alone in the ruined room, surrounded by falling debris.

  Then she disappeared from that spot as well.

  ---

  Outside the estate gates, Morris had a different problem.

  He was crouched beside Iscar, holding a thin wooden stick he had picked up from the ground. Every few seconds he poked the unmoving noble with it.

  “Hey,” Morris said cautiously. “You’re not dead, right? Hey. Say something.”

  Iscar lay face down on the stone path.

  His clothes were dirty and torn. A few bones had cracked during Morris’s earlier “lesson.” It had been… a little excessive. Morris himself knew that.

  The problem was not guilt. The problem was consequences.

  Insulting a noble was one thing. Killing one in front of a crowd was a completely different disaster.

  If Iscar died here, Morris and Elowen would have to disappear from the kingdom immediately. Their mistress would also be dragged into the problem. And if Elowen lost the maid position she had dreamed about for years because of his temper, Morris would rather accept execution.

  He had already poured his last emergency healing potion over Iscar earlier. The visible wounds were gone. No scars remained.

  But Iscar still had not woken up.

  Morris grabbed his face and slapped his cheeks a few times.

  “Wake up.”

  Iscar’s eyelids twitched. A weak sound escaped his throat.

  “Ah…”

  Morris’s face lit up instantly.

  I’m saved.

  But the smile vanished just as quickly.

  Something changed in the air.

  His shoulders stiffened. Around him, dozens of others reacted the same way. The air suddenly felt heavier, as if someone had quietly tightened a rope around everyone’s throat.

  Knights. Private guards. Adventurers. Mercenaries. People who had spent years on battlefields all reacted at once.

  They recognized the feeling.

  Trouble.

  One noble nearby was speaking impatiently to his guards.

  “What are you all doing? Why are we moving away? I’m not leaving until I meet Lady Riona. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

  “Milord, we must move now,” one guard insisted.

  “Move where? What are you afraid—”

  He stopped mid-sentence.

  The pressure in the air intensified suddenly.

  It felt less like magic and more like something alive had been released. Something violent.

  “M-Milord…” the guard whispered.

  The noble turned. “What is wrong with you, Roman?”

  But the guard was not looking at him anymore.

  Every fighter in the area had turned their eyes toward the estate.

  Sweat rolled down their temples.

  Morris felt it too. The last time he had felt this kind of tension was years ago during his adventurer days, right before facing monsters strong enough to wipe out entire parties.

  His thoughts jumped immediately to Elowen.

  Inside the estate.

  Meanwhile, Iscar had quietly regained enough awareness to move. While Morris was distracted by the strange pressure, he slowly slipped away through the crowd, unnoticed.

  His chest burned with humiliation. Rage twisted through him, mixed with fear he did not want to acknowledge.

  His eyes stayed locked on the estate gates where Helena had disappeared.

  Then it happened.

  BOOOOM!

  A deafening blast ripped through the air.

  Everyone turned toward the manor.

  Even from the distance of the gates, they could see part of the building’s wall shatter outward. Stone exploded and something shot out of the manor like a missile fired from a siege weapon.

  The figure traveled in a straight line across the garden before slowing in mid-air.

  Then wings unfolded.

  Four pairs.

  Dust scattered outward in a wide gust, clearing the view.

  Iscar’s pupils shrank.

  “…Archangel Riona?”

  The crowd reacted immediately.

  “Look! It’s Lady Riona!”

  Voices rose everywhere. Some people cheered. Some started screaming randomly. A few tried to get her attention, waving their arms desperately.

  But Riona was not looking at the crowd.

  Her gaze was fixed on the cloud of dust still settling in front of the shattered manor wall.

  Riona’s expression had completely changed.

  The casual calm she carried before was gone. What replaced it was sharp focus.

  She raised one hand slightly and spoke a single word.

  “Silence.”

  She did not shout. She did not need to.

  The word carried divine authority. It rolled through the air like a wave, echoing across the crowd gathered outside the estate. Conversations died instantly. Shouts stopped mid-word. Thousands of people fell quiet at the same time, looking around in confusion.

  Only a few near the front could actually see what she was looking at through the estate gates.

  Among them were Morris and Iscar.

  They watched as Helena stepped out from the dust cloud near the shattered manor wall. She walked forward calmly, as if nothing unusual had happened.

  “M-Milady…?” Morris muttered.

  “…Helena?” Iscar whispered.

  Shock was written on both their faces.

  Riona slowly raised her arm and pointed toward Helena.

  “Divine Sword Art: Nirvana.”

  Two massive golden swords appeared behind her back. They floated in the air without support, their surfaces covered with glowing white runes. The weapons hung there like objects freed from gravity.

  Riona spoke a single command.

  “Go.”

  The swords shot forward instantly.

  They left golden-white trails behind them as they sliced through the air toward Helena at terrifying speed. Even Morris had trouble tracking them with his eyes. For most of the crowd, the attack appeared as nothing more than curved streaks of white light cutting across the sky.

  Then something unexpected happened.

  Someone appeared directly behind Riona.

  Because of her wings, it was her blind spot.

  Helena had already closed the distance. She was mid-air, fist pulled back, her body twisted into a clean punching stance aimed at Riona’s back.

  But just before the strike landed, two more swords manifested instantly.

  The new blades crossed in front of Riona and absorbed the full impact of Helena’s punch. The shock pushed Riona slightly forward, her face turning just enough for her to glance back at Helena from the corner of her eye.

  “It will not work a second time,” Riona said calmly.

  Helena smirked slightly.

  “You sound proud for blocking those little punches.”

  “SILENCE.”

  The command snapped out cold and sharp.

  Helena had no wings, no visible method of flight. With nothing beneath her feet, her body began to fall back toward the ground.

  Riona’s eyes shifted downward.

  All swords immediately followed Helena, descending to strike her as she dropped. If Helena truly had no way to fly, she would not be able to dodge mid-air. And when she hit the ground, the swords would finish the attack.

  Then Riona blinked.

  Something felt wrong.

  She blinked again.

  For a moment she wondered if her vision was distorting.

  Her sight seemed to ripple, as if the world itself were moving.

  Then she realized.

  The ground.

  The entire earth beneath the estate grounds began to ripple like ocean waves. Soil and stone rose and folded over themselves in massive tides.

  As the swords closed in on Helena, a rising wall of earth surged upward and swallowed her completely before the blades could reach her.

  Riona stared.

  She did not know if chantless earth magic was capable of this. Or if it was even earth magic at all.

  And something else confused her.

  The source.

  Most people in this world used mana as the source of all supernatural abilities. Other energies existed, but mana remained the most common.

  Yet she had never encountered anything like the energy Helena was using.

  And for some reason, that energy felt almost alive.

  Riona’s lips curled into a faint smirk.

  Of course.

  If Her Majesty had chosen someone, that person would not be ordinary.

  Behind Riona, more swords began to appear.

  One after another, golden blades materialized until the space behind her resembled a radiant halo of weapons.

  The crowd outside the estate was no longer excited.

  Confusion had turned into fear.

  People remembered what those swords meant. The last time they had seen them was during the purge of the corrupted Church. Every sinner present that day had died beneath those golden blades.

  If those weapons turned toward the crowd now, survival would depend entirely on luck.

  Just as the tension reached its peak, another sound rose from behind the crowd.

  The sound of marching.

  Heavy boots striking the ground in perfect rhythm.

  People at the back turned first, then the movement spread forward. The crowd parted slowly, like water opening a path.

  More than three hundred armored figures were advancing in formation.

  Their armor carried a grayish-white tone. Each soldier held a massive shield and moved in disciplined ranks toward the estate.

  Someone in the crowd whispered in disbelief.

  “Paladins…?”

  At the front of the formation walked a commander. His voice rang out sharply across the street.

  “FEAR WILL GUIDE US!”

  Three hundred voices answered together, loud enough to shake the air.

  “COURAGE WILL SLAY OUR ENEMIES!”

  The commander raised his sword.

  “FOR THE GODDESS!”

  The formation thundered in response.

  “FOR THE GODDESS!”