“Dragons could never handle reality. Even when my forefathers routed all those who tried to clash with them. And about that Siren statement, lizard, don’t trouble yourself. We have had a [Gardener] eliminate the harlots once. I’m sure the favor will be returned manifold again.”

What? Who? And who speaks like that?

A hooded woman is levitating in front of the massive Dragon. Her features are partially hidden, but I can see a wildly disfigured cheek that looks patched by Lovecraftian horror. It’s as if the muscles were superimposed with skin, skin with muscles, and then blended into a reticule of scarred flesh.

How is that possible?!

The usually calm Lord Juler starts screaming in my soul, so loud I almost stumble.

What? Who’s that woman?

“Who dares—”

Marcus’s words die in his fiery throat. Apparently, Dragons have an excellent memory. Like elephants, but more on the magical, fire-spitting monster style.

The woman slowly descends in front of the Dragon and examines his figure with a disinterested aura. There’s something otherworldly about her aura, something that makes a massive Dragon like Marcus seem tame. When she turns to stare at me for a second, I notice her yellow eyes. She doesn’t say anything and simply keeps staring. After a few seconds of this show, Marcus screams.

“Valarith?! How are you alive?!”

Wait. Why is that name familiar?

The hooded woman looks at me with intensity. She has the posture of a warrior, but she’s in a [Mage]’s garb. If her name is any indication, she’s a Vanedeni. But what is more incredible is how she stands: she’s tall but not imposing like Princess Laura. She’s relaxed, with body language that communicates complete control over the situation. Even her body and facial features tell a story of someone who knows what they are doing and why they are doing it.

Anyone, even Archmage [Marcus], would feel awkward in such a foreign context. You can hide it behind the rage, the big words, or the bold statements, but this is not a stage to tread lightly. But that’s what she does. And she does it with the natural attitude of royalty, of someone who has slain greater foes than we could ever imagine.

She’s solemn and terrible.

She’s a Vanedeni.

“Some of you seem to have forgotten who the Vanedenis are, Marcus.”

That said, the biggest foe I have faced so far just… dies.

One moment, he’s whole. The next, his massive head is excised. I have no idea what’s going on or what’s just happened. What I do hear, though, is the woman talking. She’s not screaming nor amplifying her voice, but her words still reach every corner of the massive arena.

“[Archmages] interfering with young [Mages]. Your pathetic territory is still the same, I gather. I’ll come back seeking answers in the future, but for now, let the duels continue. This new generation bears a great artifact of my people, and I’m curious to see what he has in store.”

Now, that should have been a good speech, if a bit complicated. The problem is that this woman, Valarith, just killed a massive Dragon, who’s also an [Archmage], like a kid squishes a lizard at a playground. So, as you can imagine, people are panicking.

Everyone in the stands starts to run toward the exits, trampling each other and running amok. No one said anything about Marcus trying to kill me, nor is anyone angry because of that. As I stare at Stan, he looks exactly the same.

The [Archmage] with the golden wheel at her back slowly descends with wide eyes and a pale face. She’s staring at Marcus’s body with some greed, though.

“Who are you?” the [Archmage] asks.

“A young one, then,” the mysterious woman says with a hideous smile.

But the woman ignores the [Archmage] and looks at the crowd instead.

“You can’t flee. You shall all be spectators to someone winning like a true Vanedeni. The entrances have been closed off. Do not waste lives while employing your cowardice to the maximum, Elves. And do not interfere anymore.”

Suddenly, an extremely obese woman appears at the side of the golden-wheeled [Archmage]. She’s dressed in loose golden robes and has an ungodly amount of makeup on her face. I swear, I just descended into a Japanese cartoon.

“Marcus said that you were ‘Valarith.’ Are you Valarith, the Vanedeni [Princess] who, supposedly, died to kill Mauser?”

This doesn’t make any sense! Why is she here?! And if she’s alive, why are my people still suffering the war with the damned Ahali?!

Lord Juler is going ape.

“A disgusting figure,” the hooded woman says with a sneer to the obese woman, “and you, [Ferromancer], I wouldn’t try it.”

Huh? Try what?

Suddenly, the golden wheel shoots through the [Archmage] without damaging her in the least and toward the hooded woman who just stays put. The distance is closed in a fraction of a second, so fast that I’m not even sure what I’m seeing. But space is a finicky thing when you are apparently massively overpowered.

And so, the hooded woman reappears right behind the golden-wheeled [Archmage], pulls a goddamn HunterXHunter ripping-a-still-beating-heart-out-of-a-chest, and just crushes it. The difference is, though, that she didn’t touch the woman; or better, she barely grazed her skin when her heart came out and appeared in her hand.

So, we now have two out of seven [Archmages] dead in the span of a minute or so.

I don’t know what day of the week it is, but if I had to play it by the nose, I’d say it’s a fucking Monday.

“Now, the duels can resume.”