Riku stood before the imposing, elegant gates of Nina Clive's mansion, nestled deep within the elven capital's outskirts. The moonlight, filtered through the ancient trees, cast long, dancing shadows, giving the manor a mystical, almost ethereal glow.
He hadn't told anyone he was leaving; the villagers still believed him to be cloistered in his tent, consumed by his plans. This was a solo venture.
His only companion, his only weapon, was Black March. She hummed faintly in his hand, a tangible presence, a silent promise. "You wanted me to do these things from the start, didn't you?" Riku whispered, not to the weapon itself, but to the unseen entity he knew was listening. To the System.
A low, resonant thrum vibrated from the blade, a clear affirmative.
'I am surprised you knew it, riku.' Black March's voice echoed in his mind, devoid of any discernible emotion, yet conveying a sense of… approval. 'To stare into the eyes of death itself, to dance on the knife's edge and emerge victorious. This is what you were meant for.'
Riku's smile was grim. He wasn't relying on the crude black ash's protection he'd used in his past life, the one that had allowed him to move unseen among the races. This time, his hope, his gamble, rested on the assumption that Think Nirvalen wouldn't simply kill him outright. If she did, if his hope proved false, Black March would play her part.
Black March's invisible barrier, would shield him against think's spirit manipulation.
He pushed open the heavy wooden gates, their creak echoing in the silent night. The mansion's interior was opulent, yet deserted. He walked purposefully through the grand hall, his footsteps muffled by thick, ancient carpets, until he found a study. A large, ornate table dominated the room, flanked by comfortable, velvet-upholstered chairs. Riku chose one, sinking into its plush depths, a figure of calm amidst the lavish surroundings. He waited.
Time stretched, punctuated only by the distant chirping of nocturnal insects. Then, a subtle shift in the air, a faint shimmer of magic, signaled an arrival. A woman entered, her emerald eyes sharp, her posture radiating an innate elven grace and power. Her silver hair, long and flowing, seemed to capture the faint light. This was Nina Clive.
"Who are you?" Nina's voice was cool, her tone immediately laced with suspicion. She hadn't waited for an answer. Sensing the intrusion, her hands had already begun to weave intricate spells. Spells of detection and illumination flared, bathing the room in a soft, revealing glow, and her guard was unmistakably up.
Riku remained seated, a figure shrouded in shadow, as if he had melted into the room's darker corners. Covered in rough rags and pelt, a deep fur robe obscuring his form, his hood was pulled low over his eyes, concealing his face.
"…How do you do? I'm afraid I've made myself at home," Riku said, his voice smooth and fluent in perfect Elven, carrying a surprising, almost sociable air.
Despite his unassuming appearance and polite greeting, Nina's magic coiled, ready to strike. She wove an attack spell, the air crackling with nascent energy, but hesitated. She did not fire. The reason became clear with the results of a simultaneous analysis spell she'd deployed – a second rite, faster than thought.
Identification impossible: identity unknown…
Riku's lips curled into a subtle sneer beneath his hood. "You must be surprised."
Nina Clive, the formidable elf mage, was indeed surprised. Her visitor might have disguised his appearance, but she couldn't have foreseen that her magic would be utterly unable to reveal his true form. It was as if he existed outside the very fabric of magical detection. Thus, she had no choice but to ask:
"May I inquire who you are?" Her voice, though still guarded, now held a distinct edge of caution, a recognition of the unknown and potentially dangerous power before her. She couldn't make any rash moves against such an adversary.
Riku smiled, a genuine, unsettling curve that didn't quite reach his hidden eyes. "Can you call your sensei first, please?" he requested, his tone calm, almost casual.
Nina's eyebrows arched in mild amusement, a hint of disdain in her gaze. "Sensei? This is my mansion. I am the only one who lives here."
Riku's smile vanished, replaced by a gaze of unwavering resolve. His voice dropped, firm and unequivocal. "Who I want to talk to, is Think Nirvalen."
The air in the room seemed to crackle. Nina's composure shattered, replaced by an expression of profound, unfeigned surprise. Even among the elves, almost no one knew that the legendary, reclusive Think Nirvalen lived here. Riku had just uttered a secret that few in the world were privy to. The game, he knew, had truly begun.