The courtyard of the Tropical Sunrise Resort had finally achieved a state of absolute, uninterrupted peace.
Leo was working on his tan. The edgy teenager from the previous day had been successfully escorted to the gift shop and sent home with a complimentary souvenir mug.
Maya was sitting at the patio table, sipping an iced matcha latte while watching little Elara throw a mythril frisbee for Marshmallow. The tiny, cloud-like Fenrir pup caught the heavy metal disc in mid-air, his jaws crunching it slightly before happily trotting back.
Maya lowered her sunglasses. She tapped her manicured fingernails against the glass.
"Leo," Maya said thoughtfully. "Elara is seven. She's at a very impressionable age. She needs extracurriculars."
Leo peeked out from under his sun hat. "Babe, her dog is literally destined to eat the moon. I think she's pretty well-protected."
"It's the principle of the matter," Maya insisted, standing up. "What if she gets lost in a dungeon? What if a rogue deity tries to ground her again? She needs to know basic self-defense. And I am not paying for some strip-mall karate class. We are getting her the best."
Maya raised her right hand and snapped her fingers.
The sound didn't just echo; it sent a localized shockwave through the dimensional fabric of the Eight Kingdoms.
Smash cut. Two figures violently materialized on the coral-pink tiles of the patio.
The first was High Priestess Sylvana of the Verdant Elves. She was pulled directly out of a sacred, thousand-year meditation, still holding a glowing staff and looking entirely bewildered.
The second was Kaelithos, the ten-foot-tall God of War. He had been forcefully yanked straight out of the Heavenly Realm. He hit the ground and instantly scrambled backward, instinctively covering his face with his massive, star-forged gauntlets to protect himself from flying flip-flops.
"I YIELD! I APOLOGIZE FOR THE DUST!" Kaelithos shrieked, his PTSD from Chapter 22 fully triggered.
"Relax, Sparkles, nobody is throwing shoes today," Leo chuckled, tossing a grape to Marshmallow.
Maya walked over to the two most powerful magic and combat practitioners in existence. They both instantly stood at attention, sweating profusely.
"Listen up," Maya ordered, crossing her arms. "My daughter needs to learn how to defend herself. Sylvana, you're on magic duty. Kaelithos, you're teaching physical combat. I expect a safe, supportive learning environment. If she scrapes her knee, I am going to unmake both of your civilizations. Are we clear?"
Sylvana the High Priestess swallowed hard, her long, elegant ears drooping in sheer terror. "C-Crystal clear, Lady Maya. The Elven arts shall be her foundation."
Kaelithos nodded so fast his divine neck cracked. "YES, MADAM! THE FINEST MARTIAL ARTS IN THE COSMOS!"
"Good," Maya smiled warmly, stepping back. "Elara, honey! Come meet your new tutors!"
Ten minutes later, the first lesson began.
Sylvana knelt down to Elara's eye level. The High Priestess summoned a tiny, beautiful glowing butterfly made of pure mana. "Now, Young Miss... magic is about gentle flow. Feel the energy of the earth. Try to summon a small light. Just a tiny spark."
Elara nodded seriously. She scrunched up her face, holding her small hands out, and concentrated.
Because Elara was a half-god whose power had been suppressed her entire life, she didn't just summon a spark.
FWOOSH.
A blinding, condensed sphere of pure, holy solar energy erupted from her palms. It wasn't a spark; it was a literal, miniature sun. The sheer heat instantly vaporized the water in the nearby fountain and caused Kaelithos's armor to start melting.
Sylvana shrieked, diving behind a potted palm tree. "THAT IS NOT A SPARK! THAT IS A TIER-NINE APOCALYPSE SPELL!"
"Okay, sweetie, that's a bit too bright," Maya called out casually from her lounge chair, not looking up from her magazine. "Dial it back to a nightlight."
Elara blinked, and the miniature sun instantly collapsed into a soft, harmless glowing orb. She giggled. "Like this?"
"Perfect," Leo gave her a thumbs-up.
Kaelithos, currently trying to pat out a small fire on his cape, nervously stepped forward for the physical combat portion. He conjured a wooden training sword and gently handed it to the seven-year-old.
"E-Excellent mana control, Young Miss," the God of War stammered. He pointed to a massive, reinforced obsidian training dummy at the edge of the courtyard. "Now... physical strikes. You must channel the fury of a dying star into your core! Strike with the weight of a thousand—!"
Maya lowered her sunglasses. The temperature dropped.
Kaelithos panicked, instantly changing his tone to a high-pitched, friendly voice. "I mean... just give it a little tap! A gentle, supportive boop!"
Elara gripped the wooden sword with both hands. She ran forward, her mythril-silk sundress fluttering, and swung the wooden stick at the obsidian dummy.
CRACK.
The wooden sword connected.
For a fraction of a second, nothing happened. Then, the kinetic energy transferred.
The indestructible obsidian dummy didn't just break; it atomized. The shockwave of the strike tore through the courtyard, ripped a massive trench through the Ashen Valley, and completely vaporized the top half of a mountain three miles in the distance.
The clouds parted in a perfect, straight line across the horizon.
Dead silence fell over the resort.
Elara looked at the wooden sword in her hand, which had survived the impact solely because her divine aura was protecting it. She looked back at Kaelithos with wide eyes. "I booped it."
The God of War stared at the vaporized mountain. His jaw was slacked so far open it was practically touching his chest. He slowly looked at Leo, his pupilless eyes filled with absolute, existential dread.
The child was stronger than him.
Leo let out a low whistle, lifting his sunglasses. "Nice follow-through, kiddo. Form was a little sloppy, but the power generation is solid."
Maya beamed, clapping her hands together. She looked at the two terrified, trembling tutors. "See? I told you she just needed some extracurriculars. Same time tomorrow, you two. And Kaelithos? Bring a stronger dummy next time. You're the God of War, act like it."
Kaelithos and Sylvana simultaneously dropped to their knees, weeping tears of pure, unadulterated stress.