Leo watched Briva bouncing lightly on her heels in the corner, her energy seemingly endless even after the match.
"You fought well," a calm voice said from beside him.
He turned to find Mirana standing there, her usual graceful composure unshaken.
"Not as well as you," Leo replied with a faint grin.
A moment later, Carian approached alongside Elder Medawa, who was holding two clear crystals encasing two deep red roses that shimmered slightly in the light.
"In our tradition, the victor receives this flower," Medawa said gently. "But since today's duel had no true winner, you both shall receive one."
Leo smiled and reached out to accept the crystal. His fingers brushed Medawa's hand, the contact was brief—but enough.
"Thank you," he said, his tone sincere.
As the crowd began to disperse, Leo remained where he stood, the smile still lingering on his face. Tonight marked their final night in the elven city—and if he was going to do anything about the orb, it had to be now.
That was why, in that fleeting touch, he had cast Illusion on Medawa.
That night, a ceremony-like celebration lit up the elven city. Lanterns hung from the trees, soft music echoed through the forest, and the air was filled with laughter and dancing. Leo joined in for a short while, chatting with the others and sharing a drink or two. But his thoughts were elsewhere. As the evening grew late, he quietly excused himself and returned to his room under the pretense of fatigue.
Once he was certain no one was watching, he locked the door behind him and entered his domain.
Within the familiar stillness of his domain, Leo summoned the Mirror of Truth, its surface rippling like liquid glass as he focused his thoughts on Medawa. The mirror responded at once, revealing her alone in her chambers, gently brushing her silver hair as she prepared for sleep. Around her form, faint strands of white light curled and shimmered like drifting mist—an ethereal trace that Leo assumed was the lingering effect of his Illusion spell.
Normally, Leo's illusions required close proximity—being face to face with the target. This was the first time he'd tried to anchor one remotely, especially through a magical conduit like the mirror. It was untested territory.
He concentrated, pushing his will into the Illusion and attempting to project the image he had prepared—something subtle, designed to plant an idea in her mind before sleep, when mental defenses were weakest.
In the real world, Medawa had now settled into bed. Her breathing slowed. Her eyes closed.
Leo focused harder. Then, he felt something shift—a connection forming, not unlike the subtle pull when someone prayed to him. But this one pulsed with a different kind of energy, something light and fluid, unmistakably tied to the Illusion.
As he watched, ghost-like clouds began to swirl around her head within the mirror—like thought-images barely taking shape. Using the connection, he pushed a small thread of his domain's power through the Mirror, entwined with his illusion magic, and reached out to touch the cloudy forms.
Suddenly, everything around him changed. The boundaries of his domain melted away, replaced by a soft, flickering forest. The light was muted, the colors slightly washed out, as if he were looking through a foggy lens. It was quiet. Peaceful. But everything felt slightly... off.
Up ahead, a small girl ran laughing between the trees, her hair flowing behind her as she played.
Leo blinked, startled. "This…"
He glanced around, taking in the hazy, dreamlike atmosphere. It took him a moment to realize the truth—he was inside Medawa's dream.
The forest, the girl, the blurred world—it all made sense. Illusion was a magic of the mind, after all. That meant, theoretically, dreams could be influenced, or even entered. But he hadn't planned this. He'd only intended to gently guide her thoughts while she slept.
Instead… he had somehow crossed over. Entered her subconscious completely.
His expression tightened with realization. This wasn't a normal illusion. It was something deeper—something born from his domain and his connection to illusion as a concept.
He exhaled slowly, watching the dream shift around him. The trees rippled like reflections in disturbed water.
"I really need to understand my domain better," he muttered, both amazed and uneasy.
He decided to watch the dream for a while. The young Medawa ran through the forest, laughing as she chased a fluttering trail of butterflies. Leo observed her with a faint smile—until something shifted. A pulse of mana brushed against his senses, foreign and unmistakably not his or Medawa's. The dream grew sharper, the hazy edges solidifying. Medawa paused as well, clearly sensing the change.
Ahead stood a massive tree with a hollow large enough for someone to pass through. Without hesitation, the girl stepped into the opening.
Leo followed. Beyond the hollow was a familiar place—the sacred grove where the orb rested in the real world. But here, instead of the orb, a radiant pillar of light blazed at the center. Within that light, Leo could make out the silhouette of a figure seated upon a throne. Just one name came to his mind, The Goddess of Nature.
Medawa stood frozen, gazing up at the glowing figure with wide, awestruck eyes. But nothing happened. The light remained silent.
Then, slowly, the eyes within the brilliance turned—locking onto Leo. A chill ran down his spine, the hair on his neck standing on end. Instinctively, he prepared to break the spell. But the gaze wasn't hostile. It was aware. Calm, watchful and waiting.
'It seems you don't have enough power to push this further,' Leo thought with a quiet sigh.
He took a breath, narrowed his focus, and summoned the full precision of his Illusion spell. With a sweep of his hand, a sudden blaze of fire surged up around Medawa, consuming the grove and everything in it in a perfectly crafted illusion.
…
Medawa stood frozen, staring into the pure light before her when, without warning, fire erupted and consumed everything around her. The brilliant glow began to fade, swallowed by the spreading flames. Panic gripped her as she spun around, searching for something—anything.
Then she saw him. Through the blaze, the figure of Victor slowly stepped forward, moving toward the orb at the center of the fire. She cried out and ran after him, but no matter how fast she moved, she couldn't reach him. Her voice didn't carry. Her feet barely touched the ground.
He reached the orb. The moment his fingers brushed it, a white mist surged outward like a living tide. It swept across the fire, quenching it in an instant. The scorched forest returned to its lush, untouched form. But the calm didn't last.
Everything began to fade—Victor, the orb, the forest—dissolving into the same white mist that now surrounded her. She stood alone in an endless, white void.
Then, from the mist, a throne emerged, forming out of nothing. Seated upon it was a figure shrouded entirely in fog. Two glowing white eyes peered out from the haze, fixed on her.
She tried to speak, but her lips moved soundlessly.
And then a voice echoed all around her, deep and ethereal, not from the figure—but from everywhere at once.
"It is through My will alone that your goddess shall rise again."
…
The dream world was beginning to fracture. Cracks of white mist split through the hazy forest, and the scenery around Leo shimmered like glass about to break. He stood still, watching Medawa for a few moments longer, her figure fading into the shifting fragments of the dream.
Just as he was about to leave, something made him pause—a sensation like a thread pulling at his mind. He felt it: a gaze, ancient and unmistakable. Slowly, he turned back.
There it was again—the same radiant light as before, pulsing softly in the distance. And within its core, a figure sat on what looked like a throne. The features were still hidden, blurred and veiled in brilliance, but the presence was unmistakable.
Then, a voice. Soft, feminine, yet powerful—almost playful.
"Well done," it said, followed by a light giggle that echoed in all directions.
Leo blinked, unsure how to respond. A shiver ran down his spine. Without a word, he willed himself out of the dream and broke the spell.
His eyes opened in the stillness of his room. The quiet hum of the night returned. He took a breath, letting the strange warmth of the dream fade from his senses. Whatever had just happened, it was beyond what he'd planned.
With that final thought, he lay back and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him, eager—and slightly uneasy—about what tomorrow would bring.
…
The next morning, Leo stood in the main hall of the tree house, his hand resting on the strap across his chest. Everything he needed was safely tucked away inside his magic bag hanging from his belt.
Arthur was already there, waiting by the doorway.
"Are you ready?" he asked, adjusting one of the buckles on his shoulder harness.
Leo gave a small nod. "Yeah. All set."
"I'm ready too!" came an excited voice from behind.
They both turned as Briva approached, her eyes bright and determined. Two carved daggers hung at her sides, and a large, beautifully crafted bow was slung across her back. A deep green cloak wrapped around her shoulders, fluttering with each step. Behind her stood her parents—Carian and Mirana—watching her with a mixture of pride and concern.
The group walked together to the entrance of the elven city. Many had gathered to see them off. Briva shared a long, heartfelt farewell with her parents and the others—quiet words, warm embraces, and the soft murmur of blessings filled the air.
As they turned to leave, stepping toward the shadowed edge of the forest, a voice called out.
"Wait!"
They all paused. Leo's lips curled into a brief, knowing smile before he turned to look. Medawa stood there.
"Before you leave, there is something you must do," Medawa said as she turned and began walking away. "Follow me."
Arthur glanced at Leo. He only shrugged, and together with the others, they followed her deeper into the grove.
"Last night, I saw something," Medawa began, her voice calm but heavy with meaning.
"What did you see, Elder?" Carian asked, concern flickering in his voice.
"I believe the Goddess of Nature wants this man to approach the orb."
"What?" The elves around them murmured in shock.
"She showed me," Medawa continued. "She showed me that only this man's god can help our goddess rise again."
All eyes turned toward Leo. He straightened, adjusting the strap across his chest and keeping his expression composed.
"What kind of god do you worship?" Carian asked, frowning.
"I'm not allowed to share that information right now," Leo replied, his voice even. He intended to keep his divine identity hidden from everyone—for now. Arthur, standing beside him, said nothing.
After a few more minutes of walking, they reached the sacred grove where the orb rested. A hush fell over the group. The elves, lined up quietly, stepped aside to give Leo space. Excitement and apprehension flickered in their eyes.
Carian stepped back, and Medawa silently pointed toward the orb.
Leo stepped forward slowly. Even before he reached it, he could feel the pulsing energy radiating from within—gentle, ancient, and powerful. He came to a stop before it, staring at the swirling light within the crystalline sphere. Then, he raised his hand.
The orb reacted—almost eagerly. It shimmered as if sensing him, humming in tune with his presence. He hesitated for a breath, then laid his palm against the surface.
Nothing happened. Not immediately, at least. But Leo knew there was something else he could do—something deeper. Obscurae.
The word formed in his mind like a hidden key. But he hesitated. He still didn't know this goddess—whether she was friend or foe, whether the figure he'd seen in the dream was truly her or another being cloaked in illusion. From what he had learned over the past week, the Goddess of Nature had once been a source of pure beauty and life. But after a great betrayal, dark creatures like werewolves began to appear. Either someone had taken her place… or she has been corrupted.
Still, the orb didn't feel corrupted. And Leo could see through illusion to some extent —if something was off, he would have sensed it.
It was a risk. But it was one he was willing to take.
'I really need to find a way to reduce these risks,' he thought grimly.
He exhaled slowly. Then, under his breath, he whispered the word.
"Obscurae."