Damien stood in silence, heart pounding, mind spinning.
He was ready.
Or... he thought he was.
This is it, he told himself. The moment. The transformation. I'm about to be reborn...
And somehow, that realization made his throat dry and his hands tremble.
Ignia giggled softly, breaking the tension. She raised her hand, pinched her fingers together, and snapped.
A sharp, crystalline sound cracked through the silence.
And from the space between her fingertips, a flame bloomed — small at first, barely larger than a spark. But it pulsed with life. It hovered there, suspended above her index finger like it was listening for her next breath.
The flame shimmered orange and gold, but if you looked closer, there were galaxies swirling in its center — a fire that knew age, memory, power.
Damien's breath caught in his throat.
The air around them grew warmer — subtly at first, then like the sun had drawn just a little closer. Shadows curved away. The obsidian stone beneath them vibrated with a hum so low it made his bones ache.
Ignia stared at the flame with reverence.
"This," she said softly, "is the beginning and the end."
Her voice took on an ancient rhythm — like a story passed from fire to fire in forgotten temples.
"Fire is not just heat. Not just destruction. It is the soul of change. The breath of gods. It devours what was... to make room for what could be."
Damien watched her, eyes wide.
The flame twisted gently, responding to her voice, rising higher from her fingertip as if moved by invisible winds.
She continued, "A fire mage is not a master of destruction. They are a student of transformation. Their magic speaks in emotion, answers to will. Anger fuels it. Love controls it. Grief sharpens it. Passion refines it."
Her eyes flicked to him, glowing brighter.
"You must not fear the fire, Damien. You are the fire."
Damien said nothing. He couldn't. The flame had him frozen — hypnotized.
It's alive, he thought. It's not just heat. It's a voice. A spirit. A force with thought.
And it's going inside me.
Ignia turned her hand palm-up, the flame hovering just above it.
"Once I give it to you," she said, "you won't be the same. Your body will become a conduit. Your soul a forge. Every cell, every breath — will burn."
She stepped closer.
"The pain will be real. It must be. Fire doesn't choose the weak."
Damien clenched his jaw. His fists balled at his sides.
Good, he thought. I'm tired of being weak.
Ignia watched him for a long moment, flame still dancing above her hand like a sacred promise.
And then she asked, gently, "Are you sure, my little flame? There's no turning back."
Damien looked at the flame.
He saw his past in it — his pain, his rage, his grief.
He saw the boy who cried beside his dead parents.
The boy who punched walls until his knuckles bled.
The boy who ate chips in class to drown out the world.
And he whispered, "Yes. I'm ready."
Ignia smiled. "Then let it be done."
Suddenly—
She raised her hand.
The flame bloomed.
From spark to blossom.
From blossom to inferno.
It swelled — no longer a simple ember, but a living sun in her palm. It roared with gold, orange, and white-hot light. It expanded like breath — tongues of fire licking the air in spirals, wrapping around her wrist and shoulder, but never burning her.
The air shivered under its presence.
The ground trembled beneath their feet.
Then—
She thrust her hand forward.
And the fire launched toward Damien like a bullet made of stars.
He didn't move.
He couldn't.
It struck him square in the chest.
FWOOSH.
The world exploded.
"AAAGHHHH!"
Damien's scream split the sky.
The fire didn't stop at his skin.
It sank in.
It invaded.
It tore through his chest like molten glass, rushed down his spine like liquid lightning. His lungs seized. His muscles locked.
His soul—howled.
He doubled over, falling to his knees, hands hitting the obsidian stone.
"What the hell is happening?!" he thought, panic flooding him. "It's burning—no—more than burning!"
It was rewriting him.
His bones vibrated.
His blood turned scarlet-gold.
His heart ignited.
And then—
His mind cracked open like a shell, light flooding through every shattered thought.
A roar built around him.
Wind howled.
And then—boom.
A cyclone of fire erupted around him — ten meters high, a tornado of living flame and screaming wind. It spun with rage and purpose, reshaping the very ground.
Obsidian split beneath his knees, cracks forming glowing lava runes across the earth.
The lava rivers nearby rose — twisting into serpents, arching toward the vortex, singing in ancient tongues.
Above, the sky pulsed — a heartbeat made of stars.
Damien screamed again.
"AAAGGHHHH—!"
His voice was swallowed by the storm.
Then—
Silence.
His body floated — limbs limp, suspended inside the swirling inferno.
Then the vortex didn't stop — it imploded.
FWOOOOOM.
The fire didn't vanish — it entered him. All of it. Slammed into his chest like a star collapsing. The runes burned. The sky dimmed.
And then — nothing.
Dust fell.
Heat lingered.
But all else was still.
Damien collapsed to one knee.
Smoke curled from his shoulders. His breathing was ragged. But he was alive.
His eyes flickered open—burning with inner flame. Embers glowed behind his pupils.
He gasped, chest rising and falling.
"I… I can feel it…"
His hands shook. Not from fear.
From power.
"It's inside me now," he whispered. "Every breath… every heartbeat… it's fire."
"I am fire."
He looked up.
Ignia stood above him, radiant and proud. Her eyes shimmered with the pride of a mother watching her flame take first breath.
"Welcome back, Damien Blackwood."
She stepped forward and gently touched his cheek.
The last flickers of flame vanished into his skin.
"You are no longer the boy who died," she whispered. "You are the fire that rose."
Damien looked down at his hands — pulsing with golden heat, every vein glowing like lava beneath skin.
"I feel…"
Ignia cut him off with a smirk.
"Powerful. Overpowered."
Damien laughed, breathless. "Yeah. That's the word."
He clicked his fingers.
A small flame appeared.
He grinned like a child discovering a secret.
He rolled it across his knuckles. Split it in two. Merged it again. Turned it into a snake. A bird. A dancing spark.
Ignia watched with delight, giggling quietly to herself.
He's going to set entire kingdoms on fire one day, she thought.
The flame popped out, vanishing from Damien's fingertip.
He stared at his hand.
And that was just a spark...What the hell will I be like when I go all out?
Ignia nodded. "It seems fire magic compliments you nicely."
Damien chuckled. "Yeah. It might."
She stepped closer, voice more serious now. "Are you ready for the new world I will send you to?"
Damien tilted his head. "What world?"
Ignia's smile was cryptic and fiery. "A world of swords and sorcery. Of monsters and kingdoms. A world begging for someone like you."
Damien smirked. "Sounds like home."
"It is," she said. "Its name… is Velmora."
Damien let the name settle on his tongue.
Velmora…
A new place. A new beginning. A new battlefield.
Ignia's golden eyes shimmered like twin suns as she stepped forward, her gown of flame and shadow swirling softly around her legs. A faint smile touched her lips — affectionate, knowing, infinite.
"Alright," she said, her voice as warm as sunrise. "Are you ready to go?"
Damien met her gaze and nodded, his breath steady now, though his heart still thudded in his chest.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm ready."
Ignia's smile deepened. "Good. Then let's get you going, my little flame."
She raised her hand and pointed it toward him, her fingers glowing like embers about to bloom.
Damien blinked, shifting slightly in place. "Wait—uh, what exactly is gonna happen right now?"
Ignia didn't answer with words.
FWOOOOOOOOM.
Flame exploded in a perfect circle beneath Damien's boots.
A magic sigil erupted from the stone — rings of glowing symbols, all drawn in radiant flame. They spiraled outward like ripples in a lava lake, each rune pulsing with energy older than stars. The obsidian floor beneath the circle cracked and steamed, but didn't break.
The fire didn't burn him. Instead, it hummed — like it recognized him.
Damien's eyes widened as the symbols began spinning slowly beneath him.
"Whoa… okay," he muttered. "This is… insane. What is this? Some kind of flame teleportation pad? Do I explode? Is that a thing now?"
He glanced at Ignia nervously. "I mean, I'm not gonna get turned into ashes again, right?"
She chuckled, placing one hand on her hip. "You'll be fine. Mostly."
Damien narrowed his eyes. "Mostly?"
"You'll feel a tug," she said calmly, as if this were perfectly normal. "And then everything will vanish."
He looked down again at the glowing runes beneath his feet. The heat kissed his skin, but there was no pain — only the promise of motion.
This is it, he thought. No going back. Earth is done. My old life… gone.
Ignia's voice softened one last time. "Goodbye, my little flame. See you around."
Damien raised a hand. "Later, goddess."
The runes surged brighter — each symbol flashing like a heartbeat.
The circle around him spun faster and faster, heat curling the air, light growing blinding.
"Okay—this is happening," Damien muttered, his voice trembling with excitement and a bit of fear. "I'm doing this. I'm going to another world. Oh crap—this is actually happening."
The magic pulsed once, hard.
BOOOOM.
In a final blaze of light and flame, Damien vanished from the platform — gone in a flash of gold and white fire.
Wind.
Grass.
Birdsong.
The air was alive.
In a sudden pulse of golden flame, Damien appeared — feet landing lightly in a soft meadow surrounded by towering emerald trees.
He staggered slightly as the last embers of teleportation magic flickered away from his shoulders.
"Ugh—my head…" he muttered, rubbing his temple. "I think my brain just did a backflip."
Then he stopped.
He looked around.
"...Whoa."
All around him stretched a breathtaking forest — not wild and overgrown, but alive with a kind of gentle, ancient magic. The grass beneath his feet was soft and vibrant green, dotted with small glowing flowers that pulsed with faint blue light. Trees towered like giants, their trunks wide and bark textured like coiled roots, their leaves shimmering in every shade of jade and gold.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden rays, making everything look dipped in dreamlight. A stream sparkled nearby, its water clear enough to see every stone on the bottom. Birds — with bright feathers and multiple tails — sang songs he'd never heard before, melodies layered and haunting.
Damien turned slowly in place, mouth slightly open.
This… this isn't just another world. It's like a fantasy painting come to life.It's peaceful. It's vibrant. It's… beautiful.
"I can't believe this is real," he whispered. "This is… this is like something out of a dream."
He raised his hand instinctively.
A tiny spark danced across his palm — a soft flicker of flame that twirled gently in the wind.
"Still with me, huh?" he said to it, smiling faintly. "Good. Because it looks like we've got a long road ahead."
He closed his fingers, the flame vanishing into his skin.
Then, he took a step forward, into the forest.
Leaves rustled above, catching the breeze. Insects buzzed softly. Magic shimmered in the distance like heat over sand.
Damien walked.
Boots crunching over leaves. Sunlight shifting on his shoulders. The scent of wildflowers and moss filling his lungs.
New world. New rules. New life.
"Time to get going," he said aloud.
His steps grew stronger. His posture straighter.
And in the distance, far beyond the treetops — something roared.
Damien had been walking for hours.
At first, he moved cautiously, uncertain how far the magic from his arrival had flung him. But as time passed, his steps grew more confident — more curious.
The forest around him wasn't like anything he'd seen on Earth. It was too alive, too vivid. Every tree pulsed with energy. Leaves shimmered like emerald glass, their edges glowing faintly with threads of floating mana. The air hummed gently — not sound, exactly, but vibration, like the atmosphere itself was breathing.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy in beams of golden light that looked almost liquid. Shafts of mana danced inside them, drifting lazily like dust motes, twinkling with soft color.
He stopped under a massive tree — the trunk easily ten feet wide — and pressed a hand to the bark.
It was warm. Alive. Thrumming.
"Damn…" Damien whispered. "This place is… unreal."
He pulled his hand away and watched as faint pulses of light — mana — traveled through the tree's veins like glowing sap.
"All of it… it's infused with magic," he murmured. "Even the trees are breathing mana."
He looked up at the swaying branches.
It wasn't just the trees. The flowers at his feet sparkled when he walked past. The very air shimmered, like it remembered something ancient and powerful.
"It's everywhere…" he said under his breath. "The whole world's alive with it."
A cool breeze whispered through the trees, brushing his face gently. He closed his eyes and let it pass, breathing in the wild, floral scent of the forest.
It was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
His fingers curled slightly. Magic pulsed in his veins.
"…It's beautiful," he said, "but I didn't come here just to sightsee."
He opened his eyes, sharp now — focused.
"This world's bleeding magic. And I've got power burning under my skin. It's time I found something to use it on."
His footsteps resumed, this time quicker, more deliberate.
"Let's see what kind of monsters this world has."
He started down a narrow game trail, watching the terrain. Vines curled between ancient roots. Brightly colored butterflies hovered over crystal-blue mushrooms that gave off faint, chiming sounds when touched by wind.
"Okay, this is definitely the kind of place where a slime or some weird squirrel-demon jumps out of nowhere," he muttered. "Come on… just one monster. Is that too much to ask?"
He wandered deeper into the woods. Time passed. The forest shifted slowly. The canopy thickened, and the wind faded. Shadows lengthened.
Still—nothing.
No growls. No rustling. No movement that wasn't caused by wind or birds.
Damien frowned, adjusting the strap of his bag across his shoulder.
"Okay… where are the monsters? I mean, back on Earth, I couldn't go ten minutes without getting into a fight or a lecture. Now I'm in an RPG-looking forest and I can't even find a level 1 slime?"
He ducked under a fallen log, his boots crunching through a bed of strange, glowing moss. The air here was still warm, but it carried a quiet tension — the kind that made your instincts twitch.
"Maybe I'm too far from their nesting zones," he mused. "Or maybe I just smell too strong. Hah. Flame energy scaring the critters away?"
Still, something inside him stirred.
A need.
To see what he could do. To feel it — the rush, the heat, the thrill of battle. Back home, he only ever fought to survive, fists flying in alleyways and classrooms. But here… here he could unleash everything.
"I need to test this power," he muttered. "Find out what Ignia really gave me. No more training wheels."
He stopped, looked up at the canopy.
Sunlight pierced the leaves in a cascade of gold, setting the clearing ahead aglow. The trees swayed silently. Magic thickened here — it rolled down from the leaves like golden fog, drifting past him in slow, syrupy tendrils.
Damien held out his hand.
He could feel it — the mana swirling, brushing his skin like steam.
This world is soaked in magic. Every breath I take… it's like I'm drinking it.
And his soul answered it.
His flame — the divine spark Ignia had given him — stirred inside his chest like a dragon twitching in its sleep.
"I can feel it," he whispered. "Calling to me."
He stepped into the golden clearing, his heart beating faster.
"But this is pointless if I don't find something to fight."
He turned slowly, scanning the woods.
Still nothing.
No monsters. No threats. Not even the sound of footsteps.
"Fine," he muttered. "If the monsters won't come to me…"
He spread his arms, letting mana swirl around his hands.
"…Then maybe I just have to light the signal fire."
But then he paused.
A grin pulled at the edge of his mouth.
"Or maybe I'm overthinking this."
His voice shifted into a playful mutter, almost embarrassed.
"Alright. Time to go full nerd."
He took a breath and shouted:
"OPEN STATUS!"
A beat.
And then—
FWOOOOOOM.
A fiery-orange screen burst into the air before him, hanging like a floating hologram.
"Whoa—okay, that actually worked."
He stepped back in surprise.
Status Screen – Opened
Name: Damien BlackwoodAge: 19Race: Human (Reincarnated)Level: 1Class: Fire MageTitles: Flame Reborn, Chosen of Ignia, The Reborn InfernoHP: 4,500 / 4,500MP: 9,900 / 9,900Strength: 210Agility: 370Endurance: 450Mana: ∞ (Bound to Primordial Flame Source)Luck: 222Charm: 400+
Normal Skills:
Basic Combat Mastery
Pain Resistance (High)
Danger Sense
Mana Detection
Fire Resistance (MAX)
Appraisal
Enhanced Senses
Cooking (Basic)
Ability Skills:
Ignition Dash
Flame Manipulation
Heat Pulse
Mana Burst (Flame)
Heat Vision
Fire Magic Skills:
Fireball (EX)
Flame Wall
Dragon's Breath
Heat Mirage
Unique Skill:
Soul of the Eternal Flame(Grants overwhelming power scaling with emotion. Fire cannot be extinguished by normal means.)
Items: NoneWeapons: None
Damien chuckled under his breath. "'Flame Reborn'... 'The Reborn Inferno'... 'Chosen of Ignia'… That's so over-the-top I love it."
He couldn't help but smirk.
"Guess I'm the hot guy now."
He turned his palm upward, still staring at the screen.
"Alright then… Flame Manipulation."
FWOOOOOM.
A brilliant ball of fire ignited in his hand. Not just flickering flame — it was fluid, responsive, alive. It twisted and pulsed like it recognized him.
He laughed, the sound echoing through the woods. "Oh yeah. This… this is next level."
He held the flame closer to his face. It didn't burn. It didn't even feel threatening. It felt like part of him — like breathing.
Damien's eyes gleamed.
He began shaping it — first into a sphere, then a swirling ring, then into a flat disc. He flung it into the air, then caught it again with ease, spinning it across his knuckles like a coin.
"Back on Earth, I was just some broken kid trying to survive."
The flame surged larger.
"Now I'm playing with divine fire in a world built for legends."
He let the flame float beside him, walking through the forest as it orbited him lazily like a familiar.
"Okay… definitely need to learn a few tricks with this," he muttered. "Maybe dual casting? Flame blades? Fire wings? Ooooh... flaming punches."
He sent the fire rolling along his arms, watching it dance up his shoulders and swirl around his chest. It left no scorch marks. No pain. Only warmth.
He was still laughing when it happened.
PING.
His whole body went stiff.
A sudden pressure dropped over him like a wave of ice.
Danger Sense — TRIGGERED.
Damien's eyes widened. He stopped moving.
The flames around him paused mid-spin, flaring in warning.
"What…?"
THWIP.
Something sliced the air.
From the treeline, a sharp arrow ripped through the silence, flying straight toward his head.
"Ignition Dash!"
His body burst into flame and vanished.
BOOM.
He reappeared several meters away, the arrow slamming into the dirt where he'd just been.
The flames around him flared wildly, flickering with adrenaline.
He turned slowly and stared at the quivering shaft embedded in the ground.
"...I just got here."
He reached down, yanked the arrow out of the earth, and inspected it.
Crude. Wooden shaft. Jagged metal tip. Not professionally made — but deadly enough.
"So much for a peaceful welcome."
He looked up toward where the arrow came from — just as the bushes ahead rustled violently.
Leaves split apart.
And then…
They came.
Green, hunched, snarling figures with yellowed teeth and crude weapons stumbled into the clearing, screeching and snarling like hyenas.
Their eyes burned red.
Their skin was oily, wart-covered, gleaming in the sunlight.
Some wore bone armor. Others dragged broken axes or jagged spears.
Goblins.
Damien's lips curled.
"Appraisal."
Target Identified: Goblin (F-Class)Quantity: 20Status: HostileThreat Level: Low (Individually) / Medium (Group)
He smirked.
"Finally."
He raised his arm slowly, palm aimed at the mob of goblins charging at him.
"Been waiting for this."
His fingers flared with red light.
"Goodbye, uglies."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Fireball!!!"
BOOOOOOM.
A roaring sphere of compressed flame erupted from his palm — brighter than the sun, spinning faster than a cannon shell. The air cracked with pressure as it streaked across the clearing, shrieking toward the goblins.
The goblins screamed and raised their weapons.
The fireball struck the center goblin square in the chest.
Then—
KA-THOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The explosion that followed wasn't just big. It was apocalyptic.
A shockwave of blistering heat tore through the forest, flattening trees and scorching the ground. Dust and flame roared skyward, forming a pillar of smoke that stretched like a fist toward the clouds.
The explosion shook the earth.
Birds fled from trees miles away. Mana rippled through the air like tidal waves.
And then—
Silence.
Smoke curled over the clearing, now reduced to a charred crater.
Damien stood at its edge, fire swirling around his shoulders, watching ash drift like snow.
No goblins remained.
Not pieces. Not limbs. Just black earth and molten rocks.
He blinked slowly.
"…Damn."
He lowered his arm.
"Okay. That was… a lot."
I barely even charged that.
How strong is Fireball EX…?
Then—
DING!
Level Up!Current Level: 5Skill Points GainedNew Title Unlocked: "Goblin Slayer (Massacre Variant)"
Damien snorted.
"Leveling up… just for nuking twenty goblins?"
He rolled his neck and let the flames die down around his body.
"Well… that was fun."
He stepped through the edge of the crater, boots crunching over scorched earth.
"Maybe next time, I'll try not to vaporize the entire landscape."
The wind shifted — and with it came the scent of distant mana… and something else.
Something stronger.
Damien's eyes narrowed.
And he kept walking.
Damien kept walking through the emerald corridors of the forest, his boots crunching softly against fallen leaves and sun-dappled soil. The smell of moss and rich earth lingered in the air, mingling with the faint traces of smoke still clinging to him from his earlier goblin skirmish. The afternoon light slanted between the trees like molten gold, painting everything with a strange, surreal beauty.
His fingers idly flicked sparks from his palm as he walked, amusement still etched on his face.
"I really did that back there," he said aloud, chuckling to himself. "Twenty goblins—vaporized. I'm basically a walking flamethrower with mood swings."
The small ball of flame danced between his fingers like a pet, curling around his knuckles and coiling into a fiery ribbon before vanishing with a snap. He exhaled, still brimming with adrenaline and awe.
"So now what?" he muttered. "I'm in a world full of monsters, magic, goddesses... and snacks probably don't respawn like loot drops."
He looked around — tall trees, glowing particles of mana drifting from leaves, almost like fireflies caught in daylight.
"…Do I find a town? Or a quest board? Or maybe just burn a few more things until someone important notices."
He continued walking.
"I've got powers now. I've got a purpose. I think. Whatever that is."
And then—
ROOOOOOAAAAARRRRR!
The ground shuddered beneath his feet. Birds exploded from the treetops, shrieking. A primal, earth-shaking roar echoed through the forest like thunder crashing in his chest.
Damien stopped.
His heart slammed into his ribs. The hairs on his arms rose. The mana in the air went still — like even magic was holding its breath.
"…What the hell was that?"
Another tremor. Then a sudden blast of wind slammed into him — leaves and dirt kicked into the air, his cloak whipping violently behind him. Branches bent and snapped under invisible pressure.
Damien raised an arm, squinting through the swirl of dust and wind. The roar had come from somewhere ahead. Not far — maybe a few hundred meters.
The wind died.
Silence returned.
Damien blinked rapidly.
"What the hell kind of roar makes wind like that?" he muttered. "A dragon? No, too low. It felt like... like a mountain howling."
He clenched his fists, eyes narrowing.
"Should I go? Check it out?"
He was still debating when—
A scream.
Human. Feminine. Desperate.
It tore through the woods like a blade, slicing through the aftershock of the roar.
"AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
Damien's blood froze.
"That… someone's in trouble."
His feet were already moving. Fire lit in his core, traveling down his limbs.
"Guess that answers that."
He pulled back one arm, gathering mana.
"Ignition Dash!!"
BOOOOOM—
The air exploded around him as his body blurred forward in a streak of flame. Embers scattered in his wake, scorched leaves spiraling in the vacuum left behind. Trees zipped past. The world became a blur of green, brown, and orange.
—
Moments later…
Damien skidded to a halt near a fractured part of the forest. Trees here had been ripped apart — some cracked down the middle, others entirely flattened. The smell of blood and burning sap filled the air.
He crouched low, creeping forward until he reached the edge of a clearing.
He heard it first—metal clashing, heavy, tired grunts, the rhythmic clang of steel against claws.
Then another roar — closer now, thunderous and wrathful.
ROOAARRRGGHHHHHH!!!
Damien flinched and ducked behind a large tree.
He slowly peeked around it — and saw hell.
A massive beast stood at the center of the battlefield. A bear, but nothing like any bear he'd seen. This one stood on two legs, towering over 15 feet tall, with gray-black fur matted with blood and streaks of dark, rocky armor jutting from its back and limbs. Its eyes glowed a sickly orange, and steam rose from its breath like smoke from a forge.
Every roar shook the trees.
Scattered around its massive form were knights — bloodied, groaning, some unconscious, others barely standing with their weapons raised.
Damien's breath caught in his throat.
They looked exhausted. Armor dented, blades chipped. One of the knights limped forward, blood running from his temple.
Then Damien heard him shout, voice cracked but urgent:
"Princess Goldemyre—we should retreat! This is a FANG GIANT BEAR!"
Damien's head whipped toward where the voice came from.
And that's when he saw her.
Standing between the monster and her wounded knights, sword drawn, eyes fixed, was a woman unlike any he'd ever seen.
She was poised, composed, commanding — her stance sharp like a blade and graceful as a flame. Her midnight-black hair flowed in waves, the sun catching hints of indigo as it shimmered behind her. A single gold-threaded braid hung along her shoulder — a royal mark.
Her golden eyes were defiant — radiant and intense, glowing like dawn rising over a blood-soaked battlefield. There was no fear in them. Only resolve.
Her beauty was regal — high cheekbones, porcelain skin, lips like rose gold — yet hardened with battle. She wore a form-fitting blouse of enchanted velvet, trimmed in glowing thread, beneath a gold-gilded mithril chestplate, perfectly shaped to her curves but never sacrificing function. Her crimson-lined skirt flared as she moved, revealing glimpses of armored thigh garters and stockings stitched with golden swords.
A half-cape of gold-weave mist billowed behind her.
A circlet of sunsteel rested on her brow.
She was battle, nobility, and fury in one form.
"I will not retreat!" she shouted, raising her blade to the heavens. "I am Vessaria Goldemyre, Princess Knight of the Eastern Duchy — The Blade of Dawn!"
Her voice rang out like a warhorn.
"I will fight with my sword — and I will die by it before I abandon my kingdom!"
Damien's eyes widened.
"…That's the princess?"
He stared, stunned.
"A Princess Knight? She's actually fighting that thing?"
The bear let out another roar, baring its jagged fangs.
Vessaria didn't flinch.
She turned to her struggling knights.
"Stand, soldiers! For the realm! For our people! We do not kneel before beasts!"
The knights, despite their wounds, pushed themselves up. Swords raised. Blood dripping. Faces set.
"For Goldemyre!!!" they shouted in unison.
Damien felt the fire spark inside him.
He narrowed his gaze on the monstrous bear.
"Appraisal."
Name: Fang Giant Bear – "The Forest Tyrant"Rank: DHP: 5,700 / 6,000MP: 620STR: 540END: 500AGI: 140Abilities:
Blood Frenzy (Passive)
Ironhide
Frenzied Roar
Crushing Pounce
Devour
Damien exhaled.
"Great. That thing's a walking tank with anger issues."
He looked back at Vessaria.
She turned toward her soldiers, face fierce. "Stand. All of you. This beast will not pass!"
The injured knights, groaning and wounded, forced themselves to rise — shaky, but resolute.
"For the Kingdom of Goldemyre!" she shouted.
"FOR GOLDEMYRE!!!" the knights roared back, blades raised.
Damien narrowed his eyes, watching the woman closely.
"…Appraisal."
Damien squinted at the glowing screen floating beside his vision, his golden-irised eyes scanning every line with rising curiosity.
Name: VESSARIA GOLDEMYREAge: 19Race: HumanLevel: 18Class: Princess KnightTitles: The Blade of Dawn, Royal Vanguard of the East, Rose of Steel, Duelist ProdigyHP: 2,900 / 2,900MP: 1,600 / 1,600STR: 148AGI: 122END: 130MANA: 100LUCK: 87CHARM: 195Normal Skills:– Swordsmanship Mastery (B-Rank)– Parry & Riposte– Graceful Step– Mounted Combat Proficiency– Weapon TossAbility Skills:– Knight's Aura– Commanding Presence– Unbreaking Vow– Celestial Focus– Martyr's GraceSword Arts:– Dawnfang Slash– Lightspire Barrage– Radiant Crescent– Solar Requiem– Starlight BindUnique Skill:– Oathblade — Soul of the DawnWeapon: AURELION — The Dawnforged Blade
Damien whistled under his breath. "Damn… she's not just royalty. She's a walking highlight reel."
His gaze lingered on her titles — The Blade of Dawn, Royal Vanguard, Rose of Steel.
"And that charm stat? Pfft. No wonder she looks like a goddess in battle gear. But she's got real power too… she's legit."
He lowered the screen with a flick of his hand, and his eyes narrowed as he watched her step forward, sword glinting like a sunbeam forged into steel.
"No hesitation. She's going for it."
He crouched slightly, watching with rapt attention.
"Let's see what happens."
To be continued…