Joyce blinked against the light shining in her face. The demonic beast let out an ear-shattering shriek from all 18 of its mouths, black spittle dripping from its overly abundant teeth. The screams of terrified civilians echoed it.

"Heads or tails?" Joyce asked. She fished out a coin from her coat pocket, offering it to the white-haired swordsman next to her. He didn’t even glance at her, continuing to stare at the beast with crossed arms and a stony gaze, the hem of his kaftan fluttering in the wind.

"Tails," he said. Joyce shrugged and flipped the coin into the air, ignoring the soldiers pissing their pants and sobbing in fear as they fled, nearly barreling into her in their haste. The coin arced gracefully into the air and dropped to the ground, where it spun a few times before landing heads up.

"Welp, there's that," Joyce said. She turned towards the beast. It was now spewing giant fireballs that sent waves of heat sweeping across the prairie, sucking up every bit of moisture from the blackened grass. Joyce walked towards it at a relaxed pace, completely unbothered by the heat and flames.

"HEY BITCH!" Joyce shouted towards the beast. It didn't hear her. Joyce signed in annoyance as the beast actually turned away from her to explode a carriage instead.

"Whatever," Joyce said. She pointed her fingers as though aiming a pistol, and made the motion of pulling the trigger. The atmosphere suddenly stilled as all the flames abruptly disappeared. Confused, the demonic beast turned its giant head. It met eyes with the tiny human staring up at it, and opened its mouth for a roar. No sound came out. The beast tried to lift one of its arms to crush the tiny being but found itself immobilized. It stared in confusion for a moment, and for the first time in its thousand-year life cycle of hibernation and destruction, it felt fear. The beast tried one last time to move, roar, or do anything at all, but there was only the feeling of dread and something colder than ice seeping into its skin. The insignificant little human blinked and rubbed her eyes, and the beast imploded into a bright flash of light.

The light encompassed the entire prairie, and for a moment no one knew if they were dead or still alive. Pressure mounted in their ears like they were hurtling downwards from an incredible height. Just as it became unbearable, the light disappeared. The beast was gone. The flames that had ravaged almost a hundred square kilometers were extinguished, and all the grass had been restored to a soothing green. Fleeing soldiers and civilians looked around and at each other in confusion, before one by one they turned to look at the person standing where the beast once was.

Energy crackled off her small frame with shimmering colors that the human brain couldn't comprehend, rippling off her long black hair in waves. Silhouetted in unearthly light, the girl turned towards them.

////////

In the realms where there was magic, mages were a constant. Whether they were persecuted, venerated, or treated the same as any other civilian, mages were able to accomplish impossible feats with their powers. Unlike the average person, the body of a mage could act as a vessel to channel the magical energy in their dimension. The more powerful the mage, the more magic they could use without incurring death or damage. And yet, every mage had an upper limit. Every mage except one.

Joyce was born with a miraculous constitution. Ever since she was a child, she never even once contemplated the nature of magic or mages, and never thought of becoming a mage. That was reasonable since her homeworld did not have magic. After becoming an interdimensional traveler, Joyce finally came to realize her abilities. She had unlimited magic powers. If she wanted, she could simply channel all the magic energy throughout the entire universe and destroy everything in an instant. She could raze empires, recreate the atomic structure of planets, boil oceans, make it rain peanut butter, and so on so forth. Simply put, she was the most powerful 19 year old alive. Luckily for everyone involved, Joyce was uninterested in the more banal applications of her powers. This was not because she was a particularly good and just person. In fact, Joyce's goal was to find a way back to her homeworld and recklessly abuse her magic powers to become filthy rich through stock market manipulation, but more often than not she was preoccupied with a single problem that haunted her everyday life. Joyce was never a particularly good student, and she was especially bad with languages. She did alright in English classes through the infinite graciousness of her teachers, but in the dimensions she traveled through, English did not exist. The most powerful mage alive found herself struggling, not for lack of anything else, but simply because...

Joyce couldn't read.

///////

Spade yawned, looking out over the mountains below from the highest peak on the planet. It was a little chilly, and Joyce was taking that as an excuse to start making a cup of hot chocolate right there and then instead of confronting the dragon that had awakened from its slumber, whistling cheerfully as she rolled up the sleeves of her flannel shirt.

"Joyce," Spade called out in annoyance. She smiled at him innocently, holding her hand by her ear to show she couldn't hear him over the wind and the dragon noises. That was bullshit. She could hear him just fine with her magic. Brushing strands of white hair out of his eyes, Spade signed and resigned himself to dealing with the dragon.

Having grown bored of destroying nature and mountaintops, the dragon rose into the air with a magnificent flap of its wings, sending boulders flying and toppling trees as it did so. It roared into the air, asserting its might and dominance. It was the arrogance reserved for the creatures at the very top of the food chain, creatures that humans had foolishly believed to be long gone. But there it was, a goddamn dragon in the middle of the fucking Blackwood Mountain range.

Spade calmly unsheathed his sword. The sunlight glinted off of the blade, catching the attention of the dragon like any other shiny thing would. It turned towards him and narrowed its eyes at the sight of this tiny human who dared to act as a challenger. The dragon swooped forward, eclipsing the whole of the mountain in its shadow. Spade swung his sword.

A wall of blood splashed down like a tidal wave. An invisible shield (courtesy of Joyce) kept Spade and Joyce dry as the snowy peaks and rocky mountaintops around them were painted in the dark blue blood of the last dragon lord. Spade sheathed his sword again after checking to make sure it was clean and undamaged.

"Nice job!" Joyce said cheerfully. The mountains shook as the two halves of the dragon's body crashed to the ground, causing several avalanches and sending up clouds of dust and debris. Joyce blithely looked in the direction of the dragon corpse, holding a cup of freshly prepared hot chocolate out towards him.

"Want some?" she offered. Spade glared at her halfheartedly before taking the offered treat.

//////

Spade was the strongest swordsman. This was a simple fact that didn't need to be proven, just like "the sun provides light" or "rain makes things wet". At 27, Spade had reached the highest level of qi cultivation possible for a human, becoming the only sword sage alive. Most qi cultivators didn't use swords these days, with spears and folding fans being the latest trend, so it wasn't like the competition was all that fierce. But still. Spade could cleave mountains in half. Hell, he could cleave continents into pieces without breaking a sweat. With a single swing of his sword, he could create shockwaves that would reduce everything to rubble.

For most of his life, Spade thought his older brother was the strongest swordsman. In his homeworld that would be very true, mostly because his homeworld did not have qi cultivation. Spade didn’t discover his innate talent for qi cultivation until after he became an interdimensional traveler, though sadly he didn’t get a chance to brag to his brother.

Despite being the strongest, Spade still found himself saddled with worries. He had to keep a rabid 19 year old from going apeshit while figuring out the details of their interdimensional travelling as well as the various commissions they took on. Joyce handled the opening and closing of interdimensional gates and the navigation of the hazy and ever changing routes between worlds, but he was the one who had to deal with itineraries, budgets, and keeping track of local customs as they tried to find ways back to their respective homeworlds. All of this was made all the more difficult by the fact that Spade couldn't read.