After three days of getting his teeth kicked in by an angry elf, Lucy had exactly one thing to show for it: bruises and confusion.
Lucy was still no closer to unlocking the secrets of his mysterious ability.
Which, frankly, was hilarious, considering it was called Habitual Learner.
'You'd think that would come with a tutorial or something!' he shouted internally, dodging another fist-sized rock bullet that zipped past his ear with a sharp crack.
Despite the frustrating lack of insight into his Mythic ability, one thing had become very clear: his mana control had exploded.
He'd discovered that by channeling his seemingly endless supply of mana through his limbs, he could supercharge his speed and strength. Which was great—except it had put him right in the crosshairs of the angriest elf on the planet.
Darfin, apparently acting on a direct order from the goddess herself, had been "graciously" assigned to train him personally. A divine gift, no doubt. One wrapped in pain.
Pow!
A punch slammed into Lucy's gut with enough force to lift him off the ground. His breath fled his lungs in one violent whoosh.
"Hhg—!"
Before he could recover, Darfin's boot connected with his chest, launching him like a ragdoll across the lush courtyard.
He tumbled nearly ten feet, rolling over the manicured grass and coming to a stop with a groan, limbs sprawled, dignity shattered.
But he didn't have time to whimper.
A roaring flame—a cylinder of searing fire—was already hurtling toward him.
Instinct screamed at him to dodge.
And yet, he didn't move.
'Why am I not moving? Why does it feel familiar?'
The fire didn't feel hostile. It didn't feel like an enemy.
It felt like a memory. Like an old friend whispering Welcome back.
Without thinking, Lucy thrust out his hand.
The flames slammed into his palm, but they didn't burn him. Instead, they bent, swirling around him like loyal serpents, merging with his mana instead of destroying it. A spark flared deep in his chest. Something ancient stirred.
'Wait… I know this. I can feel how it works…'
The inner structure of the spell—the flow of mana, the ignition point, the compression of heat—unfolded before his mind's eye like an open book. It was like he'd cast it a thousand times.
'I'm learning it… in real time?'
Energy surged through him. Fire pooled in his hand, hot but harmless, and before he could even process what was happening—
He launched the fire cylinder back.
A spiraling beam of heat and color exploded from his arm, screaming across the training field toward Darfin.
The elven general's eyes widened, golden hair catching the light as he snapped up one hand and casually batted the flame aside with a burst of wind. The attack dispersed harmlessly, but not without leaving its mark.
Darfin's gaze narrowed.
The spell had form. Structure. Intent.
And most importantly, it was his spell.
Lucy staggered to his feet, breath ragged, heart hammering in his chest. His hand was still warm, tendrils of smoke curling lazily from his fingers.
"Heh…" He looked at his palm, then at Darfin, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Habitual Learner, huh?"
…
Later that day, Darfin was summoned by Lady Seraphine herself.
He strode through the grand halls of the floating palace, each step firm with purpose, authority echoing in the sharp clicks of his boots on marble.
And yet, unease gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.
'She hasn't been herself lately. Drafting a human—of all species-that 's not like her.'
The winding path through the ethereal palace felt longer than usual. Glowing crystal pillars lined the corridor, casting a soft azure hue over everything. Silken drapes floated gently in a breeze that came from nowhere. And still, her chamber remained distant, as if the castle itself was testing his patience.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he arrived before the gilded doors of her sanctum.
He raised a hand and knocked once—a deep, resounding boom echoed through the palace.
Before the sound had even faded, the doors parted on their own, golden light spilling outward, silently inviting him in.
Darfin entered.
A wave of floral fragrance greeted him, delicate and calming, though it did little to soothe the knot in his stomach.
His sharp gaze swept across the room until it found her.
Seraphine stood on the balcony, bathed in moonlight, her silvery hair catching the starlight like liquid diamond. The goddess glanced back, meeting his eyes, and waved him over with a graceful flick of her fingers.
He obeyed, opening the crystal-glass doors and stepping into her private dimension.
'Every time,' he thought, briefly awestruck.
Surrounding them was a sky without end. Stars shimmered in every direction, untouched by gravity or time. A majestic moon, handcrafted by Seraphine herself, glowed with gentle brilliance, illuminating the island that floated alone in the cosmos—an eternal garden in the heavens.
He took a deep breath, the air crisp and clean, grounding himself in the surreal beauty of it all.
"You summoned me, my lady?"
She turned, eyes twinkling with mischief. "No need to be so formal, Darfin. After all, you've served me for over a thousand years."
Darfin exhaled slowly, but his tone remained firm. "No can do, my lady. How could I speak to a goddess as if she were a friend? That would be… disrespectful."
Seraphine let out a soft, defeated sigh. "Fine, fine. Do as you wish."
A beat of silence passed.
Then her tone shifted, light but purposeful. "So… about our human. How is he progressing?"
Darfin's jaw tightened. His mind seethed.
'Of course, it's about him. Ever since that mortal arrived, it's all been about him.'
But he showed none of it. His posture remained calm. Composed. Loyal.
"He's progressing well, my lady." He drew in another breath, steadying himself. "Just this morning, he discovered the nature of his ability."
Her eyes lit up like stars. "Oh? That's wonderful!" she nearly squealed. "So—how does it work?"
Darfin's voice was tight. Controlled. "From what I've gathered… by coming into contact with an ability several times, he can analyze it. Learn the mechanics. Then replicate it. He copied my fire spell earlier."
Seraphine clapped her hands together lightly, her bright blue eyes gleaming with childlike intrigue. "I knew it would be something like that," she said with a beaming smile.
Darfin, still burning beneath the surface, couldn't help himself.
"Forgive me, my lady… but is that why you summoned me?"
She chuckled, a melodic sound that somehow felt unsettling.
"No," she said, brushing a silver strand from her face. "That's not the reason."
Her voice dropped slightly, becoming serious as she turned her gaze toward the stars.
"There will be a war… in exactly one week. For a planet that lies between us and the Domain of the Control God."
Darfin hissed softly, his eyes narrowing. "I see. And I assume…" he paused, as if hoping she'd say otherwise, "you're sending the human to the battlefield?"
Seraphine didn't answer right away. Instead, she smiled.
But not just any smile.
A slow, maniacal grin curved across her face. One that Darfin had only seen a few times in all his centuries of service. One that always meant trouble.
A chill crept down his spine.
"Of course I am," she said sweetly.
Then her voice dipped into something darker. Something resolute.
"I'm done playing fair."