The two men spoke for a long time as they sat in the tent, trading fragments of history, surviving records, and the stories passed down by older survivors. Piece by piece, Leo assembled the timeline in his mind. By the end of their conversation, he had a solid picture of everything that had happened, from the Old Era to the present.
In the Old Era, it began with the destroy, the God of War himself. He was the first to take action against the Void, choosing battle over caution. His decision pushed the other gods to study the threat more closely, and the God of Knowledge attempted to understand the Void by gazing directly into it. That single act shattered him. The moment his mind touched the abyss, he fell into complete madness.
Seeing this, the God of War became even more certain that hesitation would destroy them. Convinced only overwhelming force could erase the Void, he sought to gather the strength of every god and every mortal. His obsession grew, and the other gods soon feared he would become a danger equal to the very thing he wanted to destroy.
So they united their power against him and imprisoned him, ending the Old Era.
The Middle Era that followed descended into chaos. Every mortal race, humans, elves, dwarves and orcs, turned on one another in conflicts whose original cause had been forgotten or erased. Even the surviving gods seemed unable to halt the wars. In the midst of this violence, a human prince rose to fame. He presented himself as wise, compassionate, and diplomatic, the kind of ruler the shattered world needed.
But behind that mask, he conspired with the elven archmage. Together, they managed to partially open the Gate of Hell. The method was unknown, but it was clear they'd had help, almost certainly from the Mad God. For the two of them to succeed at all, their strength had to be at least S3 level.
From everything Leo heard, he drew the only conclusion that made sense, the prince ascended and became the God of Light, using the trust of the other gods to gain the power he needed, then betrayed them. He kept the Gate open just enough to destabilize the world and force the other gods to pour their full strength into restraining it.
While they focused on sealing the Gate, the God of Light struck. With the Mad God supporting him, he was able to destroy them one by one.
This was the beginning of the War of Gods.
Selvanna, divine watcher of history and fate, fell. Ilandra, Goddess of Nature, fell. Even God of Magic fell.
Lilith, Goddess of the Moon, wrapped a part of the world around the Gate of Hell in a shroud of darkness to prevent the corruption from spreading any farther. At the same time, the Earth Guardian sealed the Gate inside himself, becoming its living prison.
The God of Light was eventually driven out. The God of Magic vanished entirely likely gravely wounded and unable to recover.
With the divine pantheon fractured, the New Era began.
In this era, the remaining three gods spent centuries trying to break Lilith's shadow barrier and reopen the Gate of Hell. They nearly succeeded. But when the Pope uncovered the truth behind the God of Light's actions, he intervened and halted the plan at the last possible moment.
Now, with the world hanging on unstable foundations, Leo realized the responsibility had fallen to him. If no one else could end this tragedy, he would.
He shared his conclusions with Paul but not everything. Some details he kept to himself, pieces of the truth that were too dangerous or too complicated to reveal just yet.
Paul shook his head slowly, trying to digest everything Leo had explained. "That's… a lot to take in. But you still haven't answered the real question." His eyes narrowed with suspicion and curiosity. "Why are you here?"
"I'm here to train," Leo said, as calmly as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
Paul blinked. "What?"
"Time flows differently," Leo continued. "Each day here is only twenty-nine minutes outside. I gain far more time by staying here than anywhere else."
Paul leaned back, eyebrows raised. "And your plan to get out?" he pressed.
Leo's expression hardened. "If I say it here, the Mad God could hear it. If that happens, we lose everything. The only thing I can safely tell you is this, about ten years from now, I'll take everyone who's still alive out of this place."
Paul fell silent for a moment, weighing his words. Then he nodded once, firmly. "Then I'll do what I can to keep everyone alive until that day."
He pushed himself to his feet. "In the meantime, I'll train you myself."
Leo smiled. So this was why everyone called the man "teacher." Leaning on Paul's arm, he stood and let him guide him out of the tent.
Outside, almost the entire settlement had gathered, children, warriors, elders, all waiting. When they saw Leo, they erupted into cheers. The sound washed over him like a wave; he hadn't expected it, and it caught him off guard.
The elder stepped forward with the four warriors at his sides. "As the elder of this village, I offer you our thanks," he said, bowing deeply. The four warriors bowed with him.
Leo returned a small, easy smile and nodded. Before he could say anything else, he was surrounded by his companions, James, Orane, Loidon, faces bright with relief and excitement, each of them eager to hear the story from his own mouth.
…
After a week of rest, Leo was finally steady enough to resume training. Once his wounds stopped aching and his mana recovered, he and Paul spent hours discussing how to structure the next phase. In the end, they settled on a simple system, patrols.
They would sweep the maze in two sections. The deeper, more dangerous zones would be handled by Leo and Paul together. The lighter areas would be split, Leo leading one group, Paul leading another, so the others could train while staying under supervision.
Their first patrol took them into the harder part of the maze. The air grew heavier with every step, the plant-walls thicker, darker, as though the maze itself watched them advance.
After they had walked roughly a thousand steps, Paul shot Leo a sideways look, one eyebrow rising.
Leo caught it immediately. "Is something wrong?"
Paul didn't answer at first. Instead, he studied Leo with the sharp focus of someone trained to notice every shift in mana. "I'm feeling a surge from you. Every hundred steps. Small, controlled… but definitely there." His voice held curiosity, not accusation. "What are you doing?"
Leo let out a light breath and smiled. He'd known he couldn't hide this forever, not from someone at Paul's level. "Just preparing something I've been working on since the beginning."
"Is it part of… that plan?" Paul asked.
Leo nodded once.
Paul faced forward again. "Then I won't pry."
"Thank you," Leo said quietly.
The two continued through the winding maze paths, pushing deeper and deeper. Their footsteps echoed faintly off the living walls, and the air grew colder as the monsters grew stronger. Throughout the patrol they cut down wave after wave of creatures, six-armed beasts, crawling distortions, shadows with teeth, each one falling faster than the last.
By the time they turned back toward the village, the ground behind them was littered with fading monster remains, and Leo's mana hummed steadily through the air.
Their first patrol was complete.
…
Count Errenor sat slumped behind his desk, fingers pressing into his temples as if trying to hold his skull together. Days without proper sleep had hollowed his cheeks and etched heavy wrinkles around his eyes. Stacks of reports covered the desk, battle maps, casualty lists, requests for reinforcements, all of them reminders of how rapidly the situation was unraveling.
Months ago, hope had been on their side. They had pushed the prince's forces back and were finally regaining lost ground. Then an orc, larger, stronger, and far more dangerous than anything recorded, emerged from the Shadowlands. It tore through their lines like paper. Errenor had been forced to call Osvald back from the eastern campaign to stop the creature before it wiped out their entire northern division.
Since then, every direction had turned defensive. No more advances. No more victories. Only holding on.
He read over another grim report. The Kingdom of Magic was pushing the orcs back, yes, but only barely.
In the Kingdom of light, most of the forces were tied dealing with the prince's faction. Meanwhile, inside their own cities, splinter groups loyal to the God of Light were rising up and causing chaos.
Errenor sighed. He understood their desperation. When a belief guided someone's entire life, abandoning it overnight was nearly impossible. But that chaos was weakening them. If it kept spreading, both kingdoms would fall long before the main war ended.
A sudden bang cut through the tension as his office door slammed open.
A soldier rushed in, flushed with excitement. "Sir! Two men are here to see you. They say they're connected with Mr. Arthur and Mr. Victor."
Errenor's head snapped up. "Bring them in immediately."
The soldier disappeared, then returned moments later with two men. Both radiated confidence and strength; even their footsteps carried the steady weight of well-trained combatants.
The first, a tall man with sharp features and glasses perched on his nose, stepped forward and bowed with practiced politeness.
"Count Errenor," he said smoothly, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Our friends informed us you required assistance. I am Edgarth Wells, and this is Ryan Alston Law."
Errenor's eyes widened slightly. "You're the two A2 illusionists from the Kingdom of Light."
Edgarth nodded with an amused smile. "Your reputation for gathering information seems well deserved."
"But shouldn't you be supporting your kingdom?" Errenor asked. "Their situation is… strained."
"We already contacted our superiors," Edgarth replied. "They approved our stay here. They want us positioned where we can create the most impact."
Errenor exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. "Then you are more welcome than you know."
Two A-rank illusionists joining the front was more than a reinforcement, it was a turning point. Their presence could stabilize the southern defense, disrupt enemy strategy, and buy precious time.
Errenor straightened in his seat, renewed determination sharpening his expression.
He was not going to waste this chance.
…
Rosie sat in the main hall of the Paladin Association, legs swinging lightly beneath her chair, a bright smile fixed on her face. She read the paper in her hands for the tenth time, tracing the ink with her thumb. D-plus rank. Finally. In E-rank she had been classified only as a warrior, but now she stood as an elementalist as well, her first element, water, chosen more for its healing potential.
The main doors opened, and Liamond stepped in. He was now an A-minus priest, nearly breaking through to A-rank, he carried an authority that turned heads wherever he went.
Rosie shot to her feet and ran to him. "Teacher! Look, I'm officially D-plus now!"
Liamond smiled warmly. "Congratulations. Then you're ready for your next mission."
Rosie blinked. "We… have a mission?"
He nodded and walked toward Lara's desk. "We're going to stop a group of dissenters. Lara, is Wina ready?"
Lara glanced toward the inner hall. "She'll be here any moment."
Right on cue, Wina emerged from the great hall, now a B-minus elementalist, her steps confident and her mana sharp around her like heat waves.
She grinned at Rosie. "Today I'll show you what a B-rank elementalist can do."
Liamond shook his head. "You won't get the chance. They're C-minus at best."
Wina sighed dramatically. "So boring…"
Together they headed toward Orchid Street. As soon as they reached a quiet stretch of road, Liamond pressed a palm to the ground. A transparent ring of light pulsed outward, sweeping through the streets and alleys with rhythmic flashes. When the final pulse faded, he straightened.
"I found them. Six men, waiting in ambush."
Wina flicked up a hand, and three spheres of fire formed at her fingertips. She tossed them forward, then pulled a scroll that contained an illusion spell from her bag. As her mana seeped into it, the mana around the flames twisted and reshaped, solidifying into three walking decoys identical to the three of them.
They let the decoys advance a dozen meters before following behind. When the illusions passed between two narrow alleys, the ambush sprung.
One man leapt from the rooftop, two more burst from each alley entrances, blades plunging into the decoys. Their smiles lasted less than a heartbeat, the decoys shattered like glass, exposing the orbs of fire inside.
The orbs detonated. All three attackers flew backward, hitting the ground hard.
A minute later, Rosie, Wina, and Liamond stepped into a wider clearing between houses.
A man emerged from a doorway gripping a staff, raising it high. "In the name of the God of Light, I will destroy you!"
Wina rolled her shoulders. "Leave him to me."
Another man charged from the opposite side.
Wina tilted her head toward Rosie. "That one's yours."
Rosie grinned, pulling a longsword from her magic bag, the blade almost too big for her frame, yet she lifted it easily.
"Move aside, little girl," the man snarled, bringing his sword down.
Rosie met his strike without flinching. Months of training had hardened her muscles; her arms held like steel as she guided his blade off-center, redirecting it downward just as Rorin had taught her. The man stumbled forward, losing balance.
Rosie released one hand from her sword and thrust it forward. A ball of water swelled in her palm and blasted into the man's face. He flew back, skidding across the dirt.
On the other side of the clearing, Wina finished her chant. A massive orb of light formed at the staff wielder's command and met her flame in mid-air. The spells collided and erupted, but the explosion stayed contained within Liamond's shimmering barrier.
Before Rosie could breathe, a shadow dropped from the roof above her.
She didn't even have time to turn.
A blur swept past her. The attacker slammed into the ground, head buried in the soil under Liamond's hand.
"Always watch your surroundings," Liamond said calmly.
Rosie nodded quickly, cheeks warm. "Understood."
The staff wielder tried to run. Wina, not looking at him, flicked a fireball over her shoulder and knocked him flat.
Liamond dusted off his hands and looked at Rosie again. "I told you there were six. Never forget the details."
Rosie straightened her shoulders and nodded again, this time with full seriousness.