The negotiations with the bandits had proven successful, and although the security they offered was fragile, it would at least ensure Bytea's prosperity for a while. With that matter settled, Runa and Roderick returned to the city, where a myriad of tasks still awaited them. It was time to meet with key figures to begin preparations for the future.
In role-playing games, she had always found it tedious to interact with dozens of NPCs every time she arrived at a new city. But now that she was living it firsthand, Runa understood how essential those interactions truly were. She had spoken with blacksmiths, tailors, merchants, masons, even priests. Each one had their demands, each one their own particular way of testing the limits of her authority, even amid the chaos they all endured.
Yet all negotiations had gone smoothly, thanks to Runa's ability to apply pressure when needed. Her agenda seemed endless, but at least for today... she had managed to clear it.
Though many responsibilities remained, they no longer felt as overwhelming as in the previous days. At last, she could breathe with a bit of ease.
She walked alone through one of the city's narrow alleys, bathed in the warm light of sunset. She was taking a shortcut to the central square, intending to head afterward to the noble district, where her temporary residence was located. As she passed by, the humans recognized her and, as usual, averted their gazes—whether out of fear or caution.
She didn't mind at all.
In fact, she preferred it that way. Fewer eyes. Fewer voices. Fewer annoyances.
She was lost in thought when a soft, harmonious voice—serene like the sound of rain falling on rooftops—caught her attention.
"Could it be...?"
Yes. In stories like these, the presence of such individuals was almost inevitable. When thinking of a medieval city, it wasn't just the clamor of merchants or the echo of soldiers that came to mind—but also the songs.
Although the Empire was a place marked by hostility, imagining it without any form of artistic expression would be a mistake. In fact, the greatest artists often emerged from the places where tragedy bloomed the most.
And then, as she stepped out of the alley, she saw her.
Beneath a tree that filtered the orange rays of the setting sun, sitting there as naturally as if she were part of the urban landscape itself...
A bard.
The crowd, absorbed in its own matters, walked past. Only a few cast fleeting glances at the figure sitting under the tree. No one stopped.
It seemed to be her usual spot.
A small figure, her back slightly hunched from habit, let out a calm hum, free of words. Just sounds. Nothing more was needed. The melody was clear, fluid—like it came from the wind or from a distant memory. Runa, without realizing it, had slowed her pace. It was the first time she heard something that sounded... right. Everything she had heard since arriving in this world—songs, chants, even prayers—always felt slightly off, as if the notes stumbled over each other, as if the world's automatic translation failed to interpret the soul behind the music.
But this... this was different.
The lack of words seemed to have left the melody untouched—and that made it perfect.
Runa approached silently. She stopped a few steps away, arms crossed, watching in silence the young woman humming with her eyes blindfolded.
She couldn't have been more than twenty. Her skin was pale, as if the sun had barely kissed it. Slightly sunken cheeks, a thin neck, fragile wrists. She looked like she might shatter with a single sigh. Bandages, clumsily wrapped and frayed at the edges, covered her eyes. Blind, no doubt. Her clothes were patched in many places, and her instrument—a small-bodied lute of sorts—looked as if it had been rescued from the trash and rebuilt with scraps and hope. The strings were tied with knots, worn beyond repair, and yet... it sang.
Not well, not with technical quality. But it sounded true.
And that was more than most people had.
On the ground in front of her, only two copper coins lay resting. No one paid her any mind. Perhaps they already knew her. Perhaps they had already ignored her too many times.
Runa watched in silence, and a strange feeling welled up inside her chest. It was nostalgia, it was sorrow... and something deeper. Recognition.
In the hardest games, where everything was against the player, she remembered those nearly impossible quests where you had to use every last bit of equipment, every skill point, every second of cooldown just to survive. There was no room for error, no luxury. Just maximum optimization of available resources. And even then, it often wasn't enough.
That girl was just like that.
With a frail body, a broken instrument, a wordless voice... she was giving everything she had to survive in a world that clearly had no mercy.
And for that, Runa admired her.
When the song ended, the humming faded like the last thread of light. The lute let out a faint creak as its vibrations died. Without hesitation, Runa offered a few soft, respectful claps. The young woman tilted her head toward the sound, as if trying to locate it with her ears.
Runa: Thank you for the song.
The bard nodded slightly, as if afraid to break the calm of the moment, and reached her hand toward the bowl in front of her. Runa crouched down, pulled out three silver coins, and placed them in gently.
The clink sounded different this time. Clearer. Heavier.
The girl tensed. Her expression shifted, though she tried to hide it. With a trembling hand, she felt along the rim of the bowl and grabbed one of the coins. Her fingers traced it, caressed it... and then stopped.
Runa noticed the gesture. The way she gently pressed her lips together, frowning slightly, uncertain.
Runa: I didn't scam you. They're silver coins. Not copper.
The young woman raised her face toward Runa, even though she couldn't see her. The sunset bathed her skin in old gold, as if her blindness couldn't stop the sun from touching her.
Marie: I... I've never received one before.
Her voice trembled, though it was clear.
Runa: Well, now you have. What's your name?
Marie: My name is Marie.
Runa: You can call me Runa.
A brief silence followed. Marie gently stroked the coin as if she still couldn't believe it.
Marie: With all due respect, Runa-sama... you sound like someone important. It's too much for a simple bard like me.
Runa: It's not really a lot of money. But yes, you could say I have some influence in this city.
Marie nodded slowly. Her voice grew more hesitant, as if afraid to overstep.
Marie: Then... if you wouldn't mind... could I...?
Runa: I already know what you're going to ask.
She cut in softly, guessing her intentions.
Runa: And it's not a bad idea. People like you give soul to a city. Besides, you could be useful at banquets, receptions, meetings...
Even though her eyes were covered, the emotion on Marie's face was plain to see.
Runa: Come to the duke's main mansion first thing tomorrow. Mention my name. We'll talk more then.
Marie placed both hands over her chest and bowed deeply.
Marie: T-thank you so much... truly, thank you...
Runa: You earned it. Random encounters like this are guided by fate, after all.
Runa turned and began walking away.
The brief exchange ended beneath a warm sunset. Runa walked back to the mansion in silence.
Runa: Oooh, finally!
The gates of the mansion shut behind her as the last light of the day faded, giving way to the night that slowly wrapped the city in shadows.
For Runa, whose previous life had consisted of repeating the same routine day after day, simply having to deal with so many different types of tasks in a single day was exhausting... but also exhilarating. And beyond the fatigue, something within her had begun to shift.
What once would have seemed like a heap of bothersome responsibilities now felt like challenges she wanted to solve. Because, after all, she was working for her own dreams. For decisions she herself had made.
Runa: Maybe I could use tomorrow to investigate that magic academy? Or perhaps I should visit that village and find out more about those night-monster myths... Aaah, I need to make a list of priorities or I'll miss the important events.
She sighed, crossing the entrance hall as her thoughts jumped from one matter to the next..
Runa: Although... I certainly wouldn't mind having more competent people around me. Someone to handle the tasks I don't want to do myself.
Upon reaching her office, she sat at the desk. A pile of documents waited for her with inhuman patience. She picked up the first sheet and looked at it with distaste.
She frowned.
Runa: I have no damn clue what we're going to do when winter comes... Also...
She picked up another sheet, and this time her expression grew even more grim. It was a topic not entirely foreign to her. In her previous world, the Japanese had also faced this same difficulty.
Runa: We are far too few compared to their numbers. And it's only going to get worse.
She had always found it ridiculous that, in fantasy stories, humans could pose a threat to long-lived, supposedly superior races like elves. But now... now she understood perfectly.
They had already proven it to her. Clearly. She didn't need it repeated anymore.
She understood.
Runa: These idiots...
She slumped back in her chair, clenching her fists. Many would assume that, with their affinities and longevity, elves could achieve superior advancements compared to humans. That their civilization could easily surpass that of mankind, so limited by time.
But reality was different.
Elves were terribly prone to procrastination. Their long lifespans made them put everything off, as if time had no value. Some worked with genuine dedication, yes... but their results only bore fruit in the very long term. Sometimes, far too late.
And then came the worst of all problems.
Runa: What the hell do these stupid numbers mean? Seven children? Only seven children across both villages!? This has to be a mistake...
She had asked Elendor for a detailed census: gender ratios, professions, education levels, combat skills, weight, age distribution, and of course, birth rate. She needed to understand what population base she was working with.
But this... this wasn't a base. It was a death sentence.
Children between the ages of one and thirteen: only seven. In total. Across both villages.
Runa: No births this year...
Ridiculous.
She brought a hand to her forehead. She had suspected there was a problem, but not that it was this bad.
Runa: If elves were like humans... this would be a village of old folks. Luckily, their youth lasts longer... but even so...
It was a long-term problem. One that could ruin all her plans. How was she going to conquer a growing human empire if the elves couldn't even sustain their numbers? Her mind wandered, almost involuntarily, to those old ads from modern Japan warning of demographic collapse. She now understood the desperation of those governments.
The mental image of a Japanese politician—maybe the Prime Minister—came to her mind, smiling tensely and giving a thumbs-up.
"Marry and Reproduce."
She sighed.
Runa: Assuming this world runs on a few basic rules and a relaxed medieval morality... with a decent quality of life for most and no birth control methods... how are they going extinct? If this were the modern era, they'd be gone already. Are they pandas!? Do they need external intervention to keep existing!?
She began pacing, irritated.
Runa: Maybe I should enforce a law: every elf over twenty must have at least one child... No. That would include me too. Unacceptable. Although... I could argue that I'm too busy governing...
She stopped. She knew. No one respects a leader who doesn't follow their own rules.
Runa: If only I had made my character male... I could've solved this problem easily. Damn it...
Runa: Even that idiot Zitras, with five wives... only had one son and one daughter! What kind of pathetic ambition is that? Is elven sexual desire in a coma!?
She slumped back down in her chair. Massaged her temples. Pure frustration.
Runa: I could leave it to the humans. Half-elves are a viable option... but I can't let our elf women be matched with just any commoner. I was planning to sacrifice them in political marriages, to forge strategic alliances. For that, they need to maintain their prestige. If they start mixing freely with any peasant, the whole image crumbles...
She paused. Breathed in with annoyance.
Runa: On the other hand... we do have a lot of human women at our disposal. But Gater has a fiancée or something, Barmus has no guts, and the rest are even worse. Are they really all so useless!?
She gritted her teeth. But not all was lost. She still had one card left to play. One last hope.
Just as she was drowning in that sea of dilemmas, someone knocked at the door.
Runa: Come in.
The door creaked open slowly.
It was Reinell.
Reinell: Good evening, Runa-sama.
Runa (eyeing him up and down, raising an eyebrow): Good evening, Reinell. You look... particularly fresh tonight. Slept well? Or didn't sleep at all?
Reinell (hesitating): Uh... well, yes, it was... a rather unusual night.
Runa (with a sly smile): Unusual, you say? Hm... I see. I see.
Reinell: Anyway, I came to deliver the training plan for the troops. Gater and Roderick designed it together. It just needs your approval to be implemented.
Runa: Excellent, leave it there. I'll review it shortly. By the way, I read the report about what happened in the tunnel. Seems some of those nobles were more competent than they looked. You surprised me, Reinell. Very well done.
Reinell: I only did my duty. I'm not worthy of your praise, Runa-sama.
Runa: Don't be modest. You're quite capable. You should start acting as a role model for the others. And for that... you need rewards. Effort must be compensated, don't you think? That way, others will want to work hard to be like you.
Runa (with a mischievous smile): Speaking of rewards... how did last night's go?
Yes, this was what she'd been waiting for. Her ray of hope.
Runa had sent Reinell to his mansion with seven human maids—the daughters of the nobles who had tried to kidnap his sister, Lynell. Not only had she handed them over as a "reward," she'd also teased him just enough to make it clear he could take his "revenge" guilt-free.
Perfect: basic instinct plus emotional incentive.
If Reinell, the most decent of all elves, gave in... then the others still had reproductive hope.
Reinell (looking at the ceiling like seeking divine escape): Reward?
Runa (smiling sharply): The. Maids. I sent. To your. Mansion. Don't tell me you forgot?
Reinell (sweating): Oh! The maids! Of course! They... were at the mansion, yes... uh... seven, right?
Runa (crossing her arms): Yes. Seven. And? What did you do with them?
Reinell (with solemn conviction): I eliminated them all.
Runa: I see, I see, that's grea—Wait, what?
Runa (blinking): What did you just say?
Reinell: As Runa-sama suggested, I took my revenge on the nobles' daughters. Not a single one remains.
Runa: You...
Runa (stepping forward): YOU STUPID IDIOT, THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEEEEEEEEEANT!!!
A pile of papers flew across the room. The blast of Runa's scream shook the windows.
Runa (shouting at the top of her lungs): WHAT DOES IT TAKE FOR ONE OF YOU TO USE YOUR DAMN BRAIN?! THEY WERE MAIDS, REINELL! MAIDS!!! IT WAS A ROMANTICALLY SUGGESTIVE PUNISHMENT, NOT A FREAKING EXECUTION!
Reinell stepped back, pale as the moon.
Reinell: I-I'm terribly sorry, Runa-sama! I thought...!
Runa (clenching her fists, trembling with sheer frustration): Never mind. Just get out of my office. I need... to think. In. Silence.
Reinell nodded awkwardly and left the document on the pile before bolting out like a deer spotting an angry dragon.
Runa slumped back into her chair like a sack full of frustration and resignation. She couldn't take it anymore.
Runa (thinking): How is it possible that solving something so simple—reproducing, for God's sake!—is such an impossible task?
Runa (yelling at the ceiling): Super strength, beauty, broken powers...! I DON'T NEED ANY OF THAT! I JUST NEED MY OLD BODY, DAMN IT!!! IF I HAD MY ORIGINAL BODY BACK I'D SHOW THESE USELESS FOOLS HOW IT'S DONE!!! WEREN'T MEN BORN WITH THE DESIRE TO CONQUER!? GENGHIS KHAN WOULD BE ASHAMED OF THIS ENTIRE SPECIES!!!
Her cry echoed throughout the mansion like an explosion.
High in the night sky—or maybe just in her imagination—the face of a certain Asian conqueror appeared... giving her a thumbs-up of approval.
Meanwhile, Reinell stepped into the hallway with his head down, lost in thought.
Reinell (thinking): What did I do wrong...? Wasn't that what she wanted? Or... maybe she realized I didn't follow her orders?
Absentminded, he bumped into someone.
It was Lynell.
Reinell stumbled back a step.
Lynell (raising an eyebrow): You again? Can't you walk straight, brother?
Reinell (scratching his neck): Sorry... I wasn't looking. I was just thinking... about stuff.
Lynell (eyeing him): Stuff like what? Don't tell me you're the one who made Runa-sama angry. I heard her all the way from the hallway. What did you do this time?
Reinell (sweating): It wasn't that bad! There was just... a misunderstanding with a group of maids and... uh... well, never mind.
Lynell (crossing her arms): Never mind? Don't embarrass me in front of Runa-sama! Do you know how hard it is to earn her respect?
Reinell (lowering his gaze): ...Yeah. I know.
A silence fell between them. Reinell glanced sideways at her. His usually energetic sister looked... dull.
Reinell (gently): Hey, Lynell... are you okay?
Lynell (looking away): I'm fine.
But Reinell knew she wasn't. Ever since Celine's death—her close friend—Lynell hadn't truly laughed again. He wanted to say something, anything, but couldn't find the right words. A hunt? A walk? Some dumb advice? Nothing felt like enough.
Reinell (thinking): What did we used to talk about when we wanted to cheer up? What did we still have in common...?
Then it hit him. There was only one topic that connected them lately: Runa.
Reinell (forcing a smile): So... uh... have you been getting along with Runa lately?
Lynell narrowed her eyes at him.
Lynell: You're seriously changing the subject to talk about her now? Don't use Runa-sama as an excuse to run from your mistakes.
Reinell (laughing nervously): No, no! I mean it. It's just... Runa-sama's been acting kinda weird around me.
Lynell (sighing): There you go again, calling Runa-sama weird... What exactly do you mean?
Reinell (thoughtful): Well... once she asked me to take my shirt off out of nowhere. And lately, she keeps trying to reward me with... treats. Don't you think that's a little odd?
Lynell (blinking): Wait... she asked you to take your shirt off?
Reinell (nodding seriously): Yes. Lynell... don't you think maybe... Runa-sama's in love with me?
Lynell stared at him... and blinked. Once. Twice. Then, without warning, a snort of laughter escaped her lips. She tried to hold it in. She failed.
Lynell: Pffff... BAHAHAHAHA— W-WHAT?! You think Runa-sama is in love with you?!
She tried to speak, but the fit of laughter overwhelmed her. Holding her stomach, she bent forward and collapsed to her knees, slapping the carpet with one hand.
Lynell: Oh please, stop! I can't—HAHAHA—Runa-sama! In love with you?! How many four-leaf clovers would you have to find for that to happen?!
Reinell (blushing, frowning): I-I didn't say it with that much confidence! I was just... just wondering if it was possible, that's all...
Lynell (wiping a tear from laughter): Gods! The worst part is that you were serious! HAHAHA—You've got more confidence than the entire Elder Council combined!
Reinell (half annoyed, half resigned): Well... at least I made you laugh.
Lynell gradually calmed down, letting out the occasional giggle.
She looked at him. Her smile, now softer, turned warm.
Lynell (quietly): Thank you, brother... Really. It's been a while since I laughed like that. I needed it.
Reinell (scratching his head, shrugging): No big deal. As long as you're happy.
Reinell: By the way, are you heading to Runa-sama's office?
Lynell: Yeah. I realized I never finished talking to her about the barrier from last time. Maybe she knows something more.
At that, Reinell's brow furrowed slightly. His gaze sharpened.
Reinell: Lynell... can I ask you a favor? Don't mention the barrier to Runa.
Lynell: Hmm? Why would I keep it a secret? Are you trying to make me look bad now?
Reinell: It's not that. Just... please, do this for me. I have a bad feeling. Maybe it's better to keep that topic away from Runa's ears... for now.
Lynell: Mmh... fine, brother. If you say it's for my own good, I'll listen this time. But I feel bad hiding things from Runa-sama. If she gets mad, I'm blaming you!
Reinell: Guess I'll have to live with that. Thanks for hearing me out, Lynell.
Most of the staff had finished their tasks for the day and were heading off to rest. Since they had only recently settled into the mansion, the watch shifts and security system were still disorganized. Several blind spots remained unguarded, and the defensive mechanisms designed by the previous owner were only truly useful to those familiar with the mansion's layout.
Perhaps the old security team were the only ones who knew how to cover those blind spots properly, using the hidden tools built into the structure. Only someone exceptionally observant could pick out those mechanisms after just a few days living there.
Still, despite these flaws, calm reigned. Even with its shortcomings, it wasn't as if any intruder could freely sneak into the rooms. Night guards patrolled key areas, stationed under Runa's orders with Roderick's support.
Runa: Aaah... Today really wore me out...
She had just left the bath, drying her hair with a towel as she walked back to her room. As always, she was still wearing her in-game armor. To anyone else, sleeping in such gear might've seemed absurd. But for someone as cynical and wary as Arata, leaving her most valuable items out of reach felt almost sinful.
She walked through the halls in total silence. Not a soul could be heard in the building. As she passed by Lynell's room—the one closest to hers—she noticed the door was still locked, just as they'd agreed.
Lynell had locked herself in by choice, and before bed, had slid the key under the door so Runa could retrieve it in the morning and let her out.
Given how late it was, she was surely already asleep.
Runa: Something's definitely... off about that girl, Runa muttered to herself, frowning slightly.
She sighed and pocketed the key.
Runa: Well... I just need to remember to unlock her room tomorrow.
Not that she was worried about forgetting—Arata had never been one to neglect responsibilities, and she still held on to that mental discipline. She could trust herself to remember.
Still, Lynell's stubbornness to stay close to her kept gnawing at her thoughts. Shaking her head, she turned her attention away from the door and toward her own. It was time to close the day.
Unlike the night before, when exhaustion had knocked her out before checking everything, she wouldn't make the same mistake again. Tonight, she would secure her surroundings before resting. No more nightmares. No more surprises. Tonight, she would sleep in peace.
Her room had once belonged to the duke—spacious and decorated with excessive opulence. For someone unaccustomed to it, the sight upon opening the door could be overwhelming. There were so many details it was hard to focus on any one of them; in a way, that made it even harder to notice if anything had changed or was out of place. For that, a trained eye was required—someone used to working in storage rooms, capable of noticing if something had been moved with just a glance.
Runa stepped in slowly. The room was dark. Only a faint silver beam slipped through the left window, as always, partially illuminating the interior. The window overlooked the sand garden, a peculiar space within the estate, whose purpose still seemed ambiguous to her.
What was strange about that window was its height: lower than the others in the building. Perhaps it had been a whim of the former owner, or maybe a design flaw. But there was something else. Through that gap, even with little wind, tiny grains of sand would usually find their way in. If the window remained slightly open for many hours, by the end of the day, a thin line of sand would form on the floor, perpendicular to the opening. It was always fine, almost imperceptible... but always straight.
Except this time.
Runa frowned as she observed it. The line wasn't straight. Not only was it curved, but it was also interrupted by faint marks... as if something—or someone—had stepped on it.
She took another step into the room. Her body was already on guard. Eyes fixed, senses alert.
Runa: —You can come out now.
She said it firmly, looking into the darkness without a hint of hesitation.
A female figure began to slide out from the shadows of the room. She had been hiding in one of the wardrobes. Her body was tense, marked by stress and desperation. For Runa, that was enough to understand everything.
Runa: —Ah... so it was you.
Runa: —Honestly, I don't understand why you didn't just run away.
The girl slowly raised her hands. She was holding a dagger with both, but her wavering gaze and trembling posture betrayed her intentions. Still, she pointed the weapon in Runa's direction.
Clara (with a desperate smile): —Run? Do you think I'm a coward?
Runa looked her up and down with a brief glance.
Runa: —Your legs are shaking, your voice cracks when you speak, and your skin reacts like you're in the middle of a snowstorm. Despite all the fear you have for me, you came here... to try to fulfill your goal.
Runa (letting out a small laugh): —Heh...
Runa: —Going against your own instincts to face danger... that's definitely not something a coward would do.
She paused, her expression growing more serious. Her voice dropped a tone, and her gaze turned sharper.
Runa: —But that doesn't make you brave either. You're just another fatalist.
Clara: —What...?
Runa: —You didn't come here to avenge anyone. You don't truly hate me, or love justice. You don't see yourself as a victim... and not even in your most arrogant delusions do you think you're a brilliant assassin with a master plan.
Runa: —You came knowing you were likely to fail... and die. And still, you didn't care. Because deep down, you accepted that you were also to blame.
Clara: —That's not true! Of course I hate you! This is all your fault! All the people who died... and those who will die! It's true, you're the reason! You... you're going to cause more deaths! That's why you're—
Runa (interrupting with a mocking smile): —Worse than you? Hahaha... I don't need that kind of flattery.
Runa: —I have to admit... in this whole mess, you played your part well.
Runa: —You betrayed your friends. You sold out your village. Many people died because of it. And when I showed up and everything spiraled out of control, you lost everything you'd bet on—your reward, your prestige, your place. Now, with nothing left, you convince yourself that all of this is my fault... and see yourself as just another poor victim of the chaos.
Runa: —It's true I took advantage of the situation. But you were the one who threw the first stone, Clara.
Clara: —That's not true! I... I'll never be as rotten as you!
Runa: —You are. The only difference... is that you didn't gain anything from it. I did.
Clara: —That's not... true... it's not true, it's not true! You... you!!
Clara lunged at Runa, knife raised—but as expected, Runa dodged effortlessly. Clara fell to the floor with a dull thud. From there, humiliated and broken, she screamed in desperation.
Clara: —Why? Why didn't you kill me back then? Why not now? What more do you want from me?
Runa: —Spilling blood in the middle of the night, in my room... would be a bit... though... it doesn't really matter.
Runa: —The truth is you have no value left. You're a traitor and a burden. But without knowing it, you gave me exactly what I needed. Your actions gave me the perfect excuse to do what had to be done.
Runa: —The slave trafficking. The attack on the village. Fimas's death. All of that was thanks to you.
Clara: —Don't blame everything on me! I didn't want this! If you hadn't shown up... none of this would've been this bad... I just wanted to see the world! I was tired of the village's monotony, is that so wrong? And you're the one who killed Fimas!
Runa: —Oh? There's no point in denying your actions anymore. It's just you and me here. You know your wishes weren't wrong... what corrupted them were the shortcuts you chose to take.
Clara looked at her, eyes trembling, full of rage, pain, and confusion.
Clara: —And you? Are your desires less corrupt than mine? You use everyone around you like pawns! Don't you care who you destroy along the way? Do you even have a heart?
Runa: —I already told you: we're the same. But that's our difference. You started to break when you felt guilt... and that's what destroyed you. You realized what you lost wasn't worth it. That what you had was more valuable than what you dreamed of.
Runa: —I feel guilt too. But I feel it before I act, not after. I weigh what I'm going to lose... and still choose to move forward. I know what my decisions cost, and I accept that price before I pay it. You, on the other hand, tried to close your eyes and pretend there wouldn't be consequences.
Runa: —I'll tell you something you already know, even if you don't want to admit it: you would've preferred a thousand times to stay with your friends than to end up like this. But you chose this path. You dug this grave yourself.
The knife slipped from Clara's hands and fell to the floor with a faint metallic clink. Her whole body trembled... as if she had finally accepted what she had tried so hard to deny. Her gaze, once burning with rage and shame, became completely empty—like someone who no longer had a reason to stand.
Clara: —It doesn't matter anymore... just kill me.
Runa walked forward at a slow pace, unhurried, until she stood by her side. She bent down, calmly picked up the knife, and observed it briefly under the room's dim light.
Runa: —Hmm... a fine dagger. I forgot to pick it up during the fire, I suppose because of the commotion. Thanks for going out of your way to bring it back to me.
Her tone was ironic, almost careless, but her gaze remained sharp and unwavering.
Runa: —Kill you? Don't pin the price of your misery on me. If you truly want to die, do it yourself. I won't carry that burden. But if you're going to do it, do it outside my room.
Clara: —Do you really care so little about life... or people's feelings... to speak like that?
Runa (without hesitation): —You're wrong. I do care... about those who should matter. The ones I choose to care about. There's no room for sentimentality with strangers... or traitors.
Runa took a few steps toward the window. Her voice lowered a tone.
Runa: —And you? Weren't Celine... and Lynell... your friends? Why didn't you care enough?
Clara swallowed. Her voice cracked from within.
Runa: —Most in the village don't even know there was a traitor. Some may never know. You see, Lynell is still mourning Celine. I suppose she thought of you as a friend too... Have you ever wondered how she'd feel if she knew the truth?
Clara clenched her fists, lips trembling. But she said nothing.
Runa: —If you still want to die, go ahead. But understand this: that wouldn't be taking responsibility. It would only be running from it.
Clara (in a whisper): —Then what... what am I supposed to do...?
Runa: —Make up for what you stole from them. The path to forgiveness isn't paved with tears or good intentions... it's built on loss.
Lynell lost a friend. So fill the void you left. Give something back to the one you took everything from.
Clara: —You mean... I really can have... a second chance?
Runa (shrugging): —Can you? Do you want to? If you truly wish for it... maybe you can.
(She leaned in slightly, her eyes like icy needles.)
Runa: —But don't fool yourself... life isn't that kind.
Clara (closing her eyes bitterly): —That... I already know.
Runa (turning away): —You can stay in this city. After all, we're short on elves. You can try to rebuild your friendship with Lynell... if you still have the courage. But everything comes with a price.
Clara: —What price?
Runa: —You'll obey every one of my orders. No complaints. Any mission I assign. Doesn't matter if it's humiliating. Doesn't matter if you hate it.
Clara frowned. Her wounded pride bled once more.
Clara: —And if I decide to betray you...? You think I'll be grateful for this act of... mercy?
Runa (smiling with a faint smirk): —Doesn't matter. The second chance I give you... I can take it back whenever I want.
And if you mess up my plans... well, that just means I played my cards wrong.
Clara (looking at her with contempt): —So, in the end... you still plan to use me.
Runa: —That's right. Well, I'll take that as a "yes." Now let's put an end to this... you're wasting my valuable time.
Runa: —You won't get a mansion like the other elves. You'll live in the old soldiers' quarters, near the military academy. They're empty since the invasion. Pick whichever you want.
Runa: —And your first mission is to get the human soldiers still holed up in the academy to come out.
Convince them. Seduce them if you must. Use your voice, your face, your lies. Whatever it takes. But make them cooperate.
Clara looked away, biting back the pain.
Clara: —You're... despicable. I don't think I'll ever respect you.
Runa (smiling, a malicious gleam in her eyes): —What a coincidence. Neither will I.
Clara slowly turned and walked toward the door. Her posture was straight, her steps firm. She brought a hand to her chest. Breathed. Deeply. For the first time... as if the weight of the world was no longer an excuse to surrender, but a burden she was now willing to bear.
And thus, the interlude between the traitor... and the southern visitor... came to an end.
Runa: —Aaaah... she finally left. Having to deal with that kind of woman even in this new world... I must be cursed or something.
Runa: —Keeping her around might be a risk... but with how pretty she is, maybe she'll be useful — for seduction, blackmail, or even as currency in a political marriage.
Runa: —Anyway. Lynell won't feel so alone now, and I have a new piece on the board. Two birds with one stone.
Although... her conviction is weak. If I assign her something too difficult, she'll probably betray me.
Better keep her busy doing what she's best at.
Runa: —Alright. Finally... time to sleep.
Runa prepared her room as she did every night. She moved the bed to the far end, away from the window. She placed subtle traps at the doors, hid her most valuable belongings beneath a false floor, and scattered several noisy objects in the corners — ready to alert her if anyone broke in uninvited.
She dropped onto the mattress with a sigh and gave the room one last glance, dimly lit by the moonlight. Everything was just as it always was. Dark. Silent.
Her gaze rested once again on the same chandelier she had stared at the night before.
And once more...
Runa: —Fireball.
She recited the level-one magic spell. Naturally, nothing happened. Her character was never designed to use magic.
Runa: —Seems it really is impossible, huh?
She let it go. Closed her eyes. Exhaustion hit her like a stone. And without much effort... she fell asleep.
.
.
.
Once again, she was there.
In the world of dreams.
A place that made little sense, but without a doubt... entertaining.
Or rather, a fantasy.
The kind of world someone like him —or her— had always wanted to be in.
It was the closest thing to an "other world" one could ever long for in their former life.
But the truth was, that world wasn't real.
Unlike her current situation, this world was nothing but a fleeting illusion.
It lacked weight. It didn't matter. And because it didn't matter, it held no meaning.
It was curious.
They said dreams were built from recent fragments of information: newly seen faces, recently visited places, scenes from shows or movies.
That's why it wasn't unusual to dream about people you saw during the day, to relive past arguments, or to feel trapped in freshly contemplated dilemmas.
That world lacked control.
You couldn't choose what appeared.
It wasn't always fantasy.
But in recent nights... something had changed.
Now that she lived in a real fantasy world, even her dreams had started to reflect that fantasy she had long desired.
And upon waking, she often felt a certain satisfaction.
Though she rarely remembered the exact content of those dreams.
That was normal.
The brain regulated how much information it processed upon waking.
To remember a dream in detail meant forgetting other, more useful things — tasks, plans, responsibilities.
So as a defense mechanism, dream content would vanish right before — or shortly after — opening your eyes.
But sometimes dreams came loaded with emotions and impact — strong enough that the brain decided to retain them.
Like that nightmare.
She didn't believe dreams held divine messages or prophecies.
But that time —thanks to that nightmare where she was murdered due to carelessness— she had been alert enough to prevent an assassination attempt by Clara.
Maybe she would've failed anyway.
Maybe not.
But in a way, the nightmare had helped.
Of course, if a person had nightmares every night, they'd surely start ignoring them like any other dream.
But this time... it wasn't a nightmare.
A voice emerged.
Not a spoken voice, but one that echoed in her mind — clear and without a source:
—Where am I?
The voice echoed in the void.
It didn't feel like a nightmare.
And yet, the level of awareness she had in this dream was far higher than usual.
—There's fog everywhere... I can't see anything.
She couldn't even recognize her own voice.
Was she Runa?
Or perhaps Arata?
She couldn't tell.
She didn't feel like either... but neither did either feel out of place.
In dreams, things like doubt or caution rarely had a place.
But it also wasn't common to stop and realize one was dreaming.
So those thoughts simply didn't appear.
And yet... even without knowing which way to go —or if there was any direction at all— she began walking forward, pushing through the fog.
With every step, she seemed to regain more awareness.
She could now feel the cold.
And the wind, blowing against her advance.
Step after step.
The more she moved forward, the more conscious she became.
Her thoughts cleared.
Her senses sharpened.
The ground beneath her feet.
The air brushing against her skin.
Now she could formulate questions.
Questions that required a higher level of lucidity.
Questions like:
"Is this really a dream?"
"Why doesn't the fog clear with all this wind?"
But even with those doubts... she kept walking.
After all, there wasn't much else she could do.
—I think I've had worse luck ever since I met you.
A male voice.
Unfamiliar.
Not one she had heard recently.
It was strange...
In dreams, it was rare to hear voices or see faces one didn't know.
Step. Step.
—Maybe we would've gotten along... if you'd been born in this world.
A female voice.
This one was familiar.
The demi-human from the bar.
"What did she mean by 'this world'?"
"How did she know I wasn't from here?"
Through the fog, she caught a glimpse of her silhouette.
She tried to approach...
But as she did, the figure dissolved — vanishing, as if made of fog too.
Step. Step.
—You should take this with you. I'll be fine on my own.
Another male voice.
That one... she didn't recognize at all.
Step. Step.
—We have no right to interfere with these people's lives... You should know that better than anyone, Arata!
The fog swirled.
And for a moment, it took shape.
An image formed before her: a lone hero, standing in the middle of a ruined city.
He wore knight's armor, sword raised high... as if ready to purge a villain.
But the most shocking part wasn't the scene.
It was the name.
"How did he know my real name?"
Step. Step.
—Runa-sama... please don't disappear again. Stay with me... forever.
A female voice.
Familiar.
Step. Step.
And then, the visions came.
Flooding her mind like an overflowing tide.
A sequence of ten distinct inscriptions, carved forcefully into her consciousness.
They repeated, one after another, as if trying to leave a mark.
Alongside them, more visions slid through her mind:
Wars.
Deaths.
Rituals.
A city surrounded by dark liquid, as if trapped in a curse.
An empty land with a lone sword embedded in the center.
Four veiled maidens cloaked in mystery.
A black dragon, so massive it seemed to cover the sky.
And with all of that... voices.
Countless voices.
Speaking all at once.
Pleading, warning, screaming, praying, whispering.
It hurt.
Her brain trembled.
"What is all this?"
A deep, sharp pain.
Not physical... not even mental.
Something more primal.
As if something inside her was breaking.
And then...
Little by little, the saturation faded.
The voices fell silent.
The chaos withdrew.
Silence.
One final image appeared, like an answer at the end of it all.
A white-haired, crimson-eyed elf sat upon a throne.
She wore a crown.
The hall she sat in was vast, adorned with solemn luxury.
Light poured in through tall stained-glass windows, giving the place a sacred air.
Knights knelt before her — unmoving, like statues.
Absolute devotion. None seemed to disrespect the figure before them.
One stepped forward, holding a glowing gem wrapped in a soft radiance.
He offered it with both hands, head bowed low.
But the queen didn't look at him.
She didn't move a single muscle.
Her gaze, fixed somewhere in the void, was overwhelming.
A gaze so full of power...
So radiant with glory...
So wrapped in prestige...
And yet...
So profoundly sad.
The image faded slowly.
And the fog... began to clear completely.
Step. Step.
Everything pointed to the dream nearing its end.
She had reached such a heightened level of awareness that she could barely tell if she was still dreaming or already awake.
It didn't matter how detached she felt from the situation—her instincts screamed that just a few more steps would bring her back to the waking world.
Just a little more. Almost there.
But just as she was about to move, it happened.
In front of her appeared a pair of giant, unmoving, malicious eyes—surrounded by black wings that beat as if the very air were trembling.
The fog returned with force, covering everything. Suffocating. Absolute.
Those eyes... what were they?
Just looking at them sent tremors through her entire being.
"Run," something inside urged her.
But she knew—if she stepped back, she would also lose the consciousness she had fought so hard to reach.
She wanted to run, but she couldn't.
Not because she didn't want to. She simply wasn't capable anymore.
And although she had never considered herself a fearful person...
This was different.
That presence wasn't just dark. It was evil.
Every instinct in her body confirmed it—that creature shouldn't exist.
What else could she feel, if not fear?
But it wasn't ordinary fear.
It was primordial fear—the kind that rises from the deepest core of the soul, when something tells you you're standing before the incomprehensible.
Then, she felt it.
A light... coming from her right hand.
A shield.
It was the shield she had used as Runa. No—it wasn't exactly the same, but it felt like it was.
The light from the shield began to intensify.
And with it, a spark of courage returned to her chest.
"With this shield... I can..."
The glow grew stronger.
Brighter and brighter—
—until everything turned white.
Runa: —AAAHHH!
Runa shot up in bed, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears, as if she were still trapped inside that nightmare.
Runa (panting): —No... It can't be... Another nightmare again...
If she had to compare it to the one from the night before, it would be like comparing a hailstorm to a hurricane.
What she had just seen hadn't only disturbed her—it had shaken her to the bone.
Runa: —What the hell was that winged thing...?
But that wasn't the only worry clouding her mind.
Without wasting another second, she got out of bed and rushed to one of the side walls of the room. Behind a decorative painting was a hidden mechanism—an old safe that had once belonged to the former duke of the mansion.
With practiced movements, Runa turned a few parts of the device. A metallic click confirmed that the mechanism had yielded, and the door creaked open, revealing the contents inside.
There they were: the items she had brought with her upon being summoned to this world. Arrows, extra pieces of equipment, neatly organized potions...
And among all of it, two items she had previously considered completely useless.
The World Runes.
Special rewards she had received for winning the first and second international tournaments of Runes and Worlds.
Inside the game, they had no practical use. And in this world, they hadn't shown any purpose either... until now.
Runa picked one up and examined it closely. Her eyes locked onto the symbols etched into the crystalline surface.
She remembered them.
They were the same symbols that had appeared in her dream.
They matched... perfectly... with two of those runes.
Runa (whispering): —It can't be that...
Knock knock.
The sound of knocks at the door abruptly broke her thoughts.
Runa closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and calmly modulated her voice.
Runa: —Who is it?
Gater: —It's me, Gater. Just as you suspected, it seems there are other elven villages deep within the forest. Some survivors have arrived... they want to join us.
Of course. She had forgotten for a moment.
After the conquest of Bytea, she had sent Gater on a scouting mission. She suspected that there were still elves scattered among the ruins of the forest—especially after the fire she herself had caused. It was logical that many had lost their homes... and that some would seek refuge or an alliance.
They wouldn't come on their own to a human city—not unless they knew that an elf had taken it over. That was why she had sent Gater as her emissary.
And now, the fruits of that plan were beginning to ripen. Right on time. After all, their numbers were still too low.
Runa: —That's good news. Where are they now?
Gater: —In the central square. About thirty of them. Do you want them to wait outside, or should they meet with you in your office?
Runa: —No need. I'll go to them right away. If you see the maids, ask them to prepare the bath.
Gater: —Understood.
Runa nodded to herself. Before leaving, she carefully gathered the runes and the rest of the items. She would have liked to take more time to reflect on that dream... but there was no time. There was no point in worrying about an uncertain future if she couldn't even control her present.
She had to meet with the elves—and she had also agreed to see Marie.
Runa: —I feel like I'm forgetting something...
A twinge of doubt lingered. But between the nightmare, the surprise, and the urgent tasks, her mind was overwhelmed.
Runa: —Well... if I can't remember, it can't be that important.
She finished getting ready and walked to the door.
Just before stepping out, she paused. Something compelled her to turn and look at the same chandelier as always.
Runa: —Fireball.
A small spark sprang from her hand. A tiny flame—almost ridiculous. But for Runa... it was enough.
She gave a broad smile. Not because of its power, but because of what it represented.
Her character in the game had been built as a pure warrior, with no magical attributes. But she remembered well what Fimas had once taught her—that flame that wasn't even a skill: in this world, magic didn't depend on numbers or invisible bars. It was something more technical, more real. If she made the effort, if she learned... then even a warrior could master it.
Runa: —Looks like this world is going to be more interesting than I thought.
With a crooked, almost mischievous smile, Kobayashi Arata—now Runa—took another step toward her uncertain fate in this world of fantasy.
End of Part 14
End of Arc 1