The cold night air bit at Ashver's skin as he stood in the ruins outside Busan, his hands trembling around the rough wooden staff Reteow had given him. The old scholar paced before him, his shadow stretching unnaturally long against the broken stones.
"Divine Systema is not magic," Reteow said, his voice low. "Magic is born from blood. Divine Systema is the primordial energy that existed before kings, before sorcery—before even the gods."
Ashver frowned. "Then why don't more people use it?"
Reteow's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Because it is unforgiving. Magic is a refined blade. Divine Systema is a storm. Most who try to wield it are torn apart."
He raised his hand, and the air shivered. A pulse of unseen force rippled outward, and the ground beneath them trembled. Ashver staggered, his heart pounding.
"Now," Reteow said, his eyes gleaming. "Try to feel it."For hours, Ashver struggled. He swung the staff, focused his mind, gritted his teeth—but nothing happened. His arms ached, his palms blistered, and frustration gnawed at him.
"This is impossible," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.
Reteow sighed. "You're trying to force it. Divine Systema is not commanded. It is allowed."
Ashver closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He thought of his father's tired face. Of the sorcerers who had taken everything from him. Of the queen's dismissive words.
Then—
A flicker.
A warmth in his chest, like embers stirring.
His staff hummed.
Ashver's eyes snapped open just as a weak, shimmering aura flickered around the wood—then vanished.
But it had been there.
Reteow's eyebrows rose. "Hm. Maybe you're not hopeless after all."
The next evening, Ashver returned to the ruins alone, determined to replicate what he'd felt. He focused, breathing steadily, trying to call back that strange warmth—
"So this is where you've been sneaking off to."
Ashver nearly dropped his staff.
Standing at the edge of the ruins, arms crossed, was Queen Liora. Beside her, Renui peered at him with open curiosity.
Ashver's stomach dropped. "Y-Your Majesty—"
The queen's gaze locked onto his staff. "What are you doing?"
There was no lying to her. Ashver swallowed hard. "Training."
Renui tilted her head. "With what? That's not magic."
Queen Liora's eyes narrowed. Then, with terrifying calm, she said, "Show me."
Ashver hesitated—but the weight of her stare left no room for refusal. He tightened his grip on the staff, closed his eyes, and reached for that ember-like warmth again.
For a moment, nothing.
Then—
A faint glow. A whisper of power.
The queen went very still.
"Divine Systema," she murmured. "A peasant shouldn't be able to touch that."
Renui blinked. "Wait, isn't that what sorcerers use?"
The queen's hand twitched—not in threat, but in something like calculation. "Ashver. Who taught you this?"
Ashver's mouth went dry. "A… scholar. Reteow."
The queen's expression darkened. "Reteow." She said the name like a curse.
Then, abruptly, she turned. "You're coming with me."
Ashver expected chains. A dungeon. Maybe execution.
Instead, he found himself in a secluded castle far from Busan's capital—Queen Liora's personal stronghold, hidden in the mountains.
"You will remain here," the queen said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "You will train under my supervision. And you will explain exactly what Reteow told you."
Ashver bristled. "So I'm a prisoner now?"
The queen's gaze didn't waver. "You're a danger to yourself and others. Divine Systema is not a toy."
Renui, leaning against a pillar, smirked. "Oh, don't look so grim. This place is much nicer than a dungeon."
Ashver scowled. "That's not comforting."
Life in the queen's castle was… tense.
- Ashver trained relentlessly, pushing himself to grasp Divine Systema properly. His progress was slow, frustrating—but undeniable.
- Queen Liora watched like a hawk, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She rarely spoke, but when she did, her words cut deep.
- Renui, oddly, was the one who bridged the gap. She brought Ashver meals when he forgot to eat. Teased him when he took himself too seriously.
One evening, as Ashver sat exhausted in the courtyard, Renui dropped onto the bench beside him.
"You're going to burn yourself out," she said, handing him a waterskin.
Ashver took it grudgingly. "I don't have the luxury of time."
Renui studied him. "Why are you so desperate?"
The question hung in the air. Ashver looked away. "You wouldn't understand."
Renui's usual smirk faded. "Try me."
For the first time, Ashver saw something genuine in her eyes—not mischief, not noble detachment, but real curiosity.
He hesitated. Then, quietly, said, "Because I refuse to be powerless again."
Renui didn't reply. But she didn't leave, either.
Weeks passed. Then, one afternoon, during a sparring session, something shifted.
Ashver, panting, barely managed to deflect one of the queen's spells with a pulse of Divine Systema. The force sent him skidding back—but he held his ground.
The queen lowered her hand. "You're adapting."
Ashver wiped blood from his lip. "Told you I wasn't a lost cause."
For the briefest moment, the queen's stern expression softened—just a fraction. "We'll see."
But it was enough.
The dynamic between them was changing.
- Ashver and Renui developed an odd camaraderie—part rivalry, part something neither dared name.
- Queen Liora's scrutiny became less hostile, more… assessing. As if she were waiting for something.
- And Reteow? He was nowhere to be found.
But Ashver couldn't shake the feeling that this peace was fragile. That the storm was coming.
And when it arrived, he would be ready.
A Slow Morning – Ashver's Frustration
The pale light of dawn crept through the high arched windows of Queen Liora's mountain castle, casting long shadows across the stone floors. Ashver sat on the edge of his bed, rolling his stiff shoulders. Weeks of relentless training had left his body sore, his hands calloused from gripping the rough wooden staff Reteow had given him.
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Divine Systema. The words echoed in his mind like a taunt. He could feel it—that strange, untamed energy—but every time he tried to grasp it, it slipped away like smoke through his fingers.
A knock at his door startled him.
"Ashver? You alive in there?" Renui's voice, laced with amusement, carried through the thick wood.
Ashver groaned. "Unfortunately."
The door swung open without invitation, revealing Renui leaning against the frame, a tray of food balanced in her hands. She was dressed in a loose, flowing robe, her silver hair tousled from sleep. The morning light caught the faint freckles across her nose, making her look almost… soft.
Almost.
"You look terrible," she announced cheerfully, stepping inside.
"Good morning to you too," Ashver muttered, eyeing the tray. "Is that for me?"
Renui smirked. "Maybe. If you ask nicely."
Ashver reached for it, but she pulled the tray back, holding it just out of reach.
"Ah-ah. What do we say?"
Ashver glared. "I'll throw you out the window."
Renui laughed, a bright, unrestrained sound. "And here I thought you'd be grateful. I did sneak this from the kitchen before the servants woke up." She set the tray down on his bedside table, leaning over just enough that the neckline of her robe dipped slightly, revealing the barest hint of—
Ashver averted his eyes, his face heating.
Renui noticed. Of course she noticed.
"Oh? Is the mighty Divine Systema trainee blushing?" she teased, leaning closer.
Ashver shoved a piece of bread into his mouth to avoid answering.
-The castle's training grounds were secluded, hidden behind high walls and veiled by mist. Queen Liora stood at the center, her emerald dress replaced with fitted training leathers that hugged her form with lethal precision.
Ashver tried not to stare.
"Focus," the queen commanded, her voice sharp. "Divine Systema responds to intent, not brute force."
Ashver tightened his grip on his staff. "I am focusing."
"Then why is your stance sloppy?"
Ashver gritted his teeth. The queen had a way of making him feel like an unruly child. He adjusted his footing, channeling his frustration into the wood in his hands.
A flicker.
The staff pulsed with a faint, purple glow.
Queen Liora's eyes narrowed. "Better."
Then, without warning, she struck.
Ashver barely raised his staff in time to block, the impact reverberating up his arms. He staggered back, but the queen didn't relent. Her movements were fluid, relentless—each strike precise, calculated.
"Fight back," she demanded.
Ashver growled, swinging his staff in a wide arc. The Divine Systema within it flared weakly, but it was enough to deflect her next blow.
The queen's lips curled. "Good."
Then she twisted, her leg sweeping out in a low kick that sent Ashver crashing onto his back.
He groaned, staring up at the sky. "Was that necessary?"
Queen Liora looked down at him, her chest rising and falling slightly from exertion. A strand of dark hair had escaped her braid, curling against her cheek.
"Yes," she said simply.
Ashver exhaled, his gaze lingering a moment too long on the way her leathers clung to her hips.
The queen raised an eyebrow.
Ashver quickly looked away.
The castle's hot springs were a luxury Ashver had never experienced before. Hidden behind carved stone partitions, the steaming waters were said to have healing properties—something his aching muscles desperately needed.
He waited until late evening, when the halls were quiet, before slipping inside. The air was thick with steam, the scent of minerals and herbs clinging to the damp stones.
Ashver stripped down, sinking into the water with a groan. The heat seeped into his bones, loosening the tension in his shoulders.
Then—
The sound of footsteps.
Ashver froze.
Queen Liora stepped into view, a towel wrapped loosely around her body. Her skin glistened in the dim light, droplets of water trailing down her collarbone.
Their eyes locked.
For a heartbeat, neither moved.
Then—
"Out," the queen said, her voice dangerously calm.
Ashver scrambled to cover himself, his face burning. "I—I didn't know you'd be here!"
Queen Liora's gaze didn't waver. "Now."
Ashver practically tripped getting out of the water, grabbing his clothes in a tangled heap before bolting for the door.
Behind him, he could have sworn he heard a faint, amused hum.
The next morning, Renui cornered him in the library, her grin wicked.
"So. The baths, huh?"
Ashver nearly choked on his tea. "You knew?"
Renui twirled a lock of silver hair around her finger, feigning innocence. "Knew what?"
Ashver set his cup down with a clink. "You're evil."
Renui laughed, leaning forward until her face was inches from his. "And you're fun to tease."
Ashver's breath hitched. Renui was close—too close. Her lips were slightly parted, her silver eyes gleaming with mischief.
For a moment, he wondered what would happen if he closed the distance between them.
Then Renui pulled back, smirking. "Maybe next time, knock."
Ashver groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
It was past midnight when the knock came.
Ashver, still awake and poring over an old text on Divine Systema, frowned. "Renui, if that's you—"
The door creaked open.
Not Renui.
Reteow stood in the doorway, his robes torn, his face pale. A fresh wound bled sluggishly at his temple.
"They know," he gasped. "And the queen isn't who you think she is."