I stood back, leaning against the cold, damp wall of the tunnel, crossing my arms and trying to look like I had everything under control. In reality, I was just trying to make sure no dust got on my fresh cargo pants. I’ve lived seventy years as a man who considered lifting a heavy grocery bag a "workout," so watching what happened next was like seeing a demolition crew made of supermodels and bodybuilders."Alright, girls," I said, waving a hand toward the mountain of rock. "The rock is looking at you funny. Do something about it."I expected maybe a few sparks or some glowing hands. What I got was a tectonic shift.“Consider it done, Master Art.” Elene stepped forward first. She didn't look like a timid maid anymore; she looked like an executioner. She started chanting this weird mambo-jumbo, hig

Queen Selene POVThe chaos of the North Mines was not a catastrophe to me; it was a theater, and I was its hidden director.The moment we stepped into the stifling dark, my senses, honed by centuries of royal lineage and the raw power of the 10th Circle, screamed with the presence of the ancient things lurking in the deep.Now, on the 11th, I could feel the rhythmic, wet thrumming of the Broodmother’s heart long before the dwarves could. Beside me, Millan tensed. I didn't need to speak; a single flicker of my mana toward her was enough. We had a mission that went beyond rescue. We needed to test the "Saint."Watching Arthur panic over "silly, stupid spiders" should have been pathetic, yet it was mesmerizing. He moved with a frantic, clumsy energy that defied the cold logic of this world. When he tapped the oxygen to manifest those another kinds of bigger metal canisters, I watched with a predator's focus. The yellow mist he unleashed was a marvel, an alchemical plague that silenced a

Queen Selene POVI sat there, staring into the swirling depths of my "Ramen" bowl, my mind a storm of frustration and bewilderment. How? How was the boy sitting there, smirking and slurping as if he hadn’t just been on the brink of a spiritual collapse in my arms?The "Divine Burden" I had witnessed in the mines, the way his life force seemed to flicker and die the moment I touched him, should have kept him bedridden for weeks. I had calculated his weakness, yet here he was, looking more vibrant and healthy than the day we met. It was as if my touch hadn't drained him at all, but merely... reset him.I took a bite of the "Hotdog," and for a moment, my royal dignity almost buckled. The texture was impossible, smooth, savory, and strangely addictive. I have dined on the essence of mana-infused boars and the tongues of sky-serpents, but this "non-dog" meat was a culinary sorcery I couldn't fathom. And the eggs... I have tasted the eggs of the Fire Phoenix, rare delicacies that cost a pro

The next morning, I turned back to my desk, where Eto, the head of the dwarf local council and a man who usually looked like he’d been carved out of grumpy granite, was currently vibrating with excitement. I had just handed him a bulk-sized jar of "Instant Gold" (dehydrated coffee crystals) and a box of non-dairy creamer."Share this with the rest of the council, Eto," I said, my voice smooth and practiced. "It’s not as potent as the freshly ground beans from my machine, but it’ll keep you awake through the longest budget meetings."The old man clutched the plastic jar to his chest like a sacred relic. "Master Arthur... this aroma... it is the scent of a waking god. My alliance to you is not just a contract; it is a blood oath. As long as this 'Instant' flows, the council is yours."Once he scurried off, I got back to the real grind. I’d spent the last few hours trading "Divine Pops" strawberry and blue-raspberry lollipops, for more Hearthstones. The local kids and even some of the gu

Elsa POVThe air in the room was thick with the scent of ozone and that strange, bitter "coffee" Master Arthur favored. I sat still at the divine chair like the ancient oaks of my homeland, watching him pace. His words were a blur of "logistics" and "scalability" terms that sounded High Draconic to my elven ears, but the conviction in his voice was undeniable. He spoke as if the future were a map he had already memorized.I adjusted the sleeves of the pink tunic he had bestowed upon us. To a casual observer, it was a simple garment. To me, it was a feat of impossible craftsmanship. The weave was so precise it felt like liquid against my skin, pulsing with a faint, clean resonance that calmed my mana circuits. It was a divine uniform for a war we didn't yet understand.I looked at Arthur. Calling him a "boy" felt like a sacrilege now. In the few weeks since he had plucked us from the gutter of fate, he had transformed. The soft edges of his youth were sharpening. His shoulders had broa