The Thousand Kingdom.
Sector 12.
The Throne of Heaven.
Michael knelt on one knee and delivered her report.
"Lord Caesar. We have confirmed the existence of the individual known as Iel."
Caesar was looking out the window.
The moon of this other world was high in the sky.
Pale moonlight flowed down upon the Throne of Heaven.
Draped in his black robe, Caesar’s face remained devoid of any emotion.
He kept his gaze fixed on the moon as he asked, "What was the strength of the one called Nivs?"
Michael smiled.
"It was power that surpassed Ainz Ooal Gown, the guild master who once led the guild of the same name back in the days of Yggdrasil."
She continued, her voice tinged with pride.
"However, he is still no match for you, Lord Caesar. Are you not the one who could emerge victorious even if you fought against millions of Yggdrasil users at once?"
"Michael."
A low voice.
With that single word, Michael’s smile vanished.
The aura of the Celestial Emperor permeated the entire throne room.
Fear.
Denial.
Acceptance.
Fainting.
Death.
All these stages flashed through Michael’s body in an instant.
Even for her, a Level 100 high-ranking NPC, a chill ran down her spine.
Michael immediately bowed her head low.
"I apologize."
Caesar did not take his eyes off the moon outside.
"The important thing is not whether I am stronger than him."
His red eyes narrowed, glinting in the moonlight.
"The fact that Shub-Niggurath has elevated a mere commoner of this world to a level surpassing a high-ranking player of Yggdrasil... that fact alone is what matters."
Silence descended upon the Throne of Heaven.
"If such power can be mass-produced..."
Caesar’s voice dropped even lower.
"Then it is a threat even to us."
Michael bowed deeply.
"I will keep that in mind."
Caesar asked again, "And the power of the woman called Iel?"
Michael fell silent for a moment.
The battle at the E-Rantel plaza replayed in her mind.
Existence Fixation.
Death Magic Nullification.
A tidal wave of holy light.
A semi-mental barrier.
The structural analysis of Nivs’s sorcery.
The relativization of divine protection.
Ragnarok.
And the sheer firepower that had overwhelmed Nivs.
That was not merely the combat of a high-tier magic caster.
It was closer to a method of reading, seizing, and rewriting the very laws of the world.
Michael reached a single conclusion.
"Against every single user in Yggdrasil..."
She paused as if choosing her words carefully.
"Against millions of users... she possesses the martial might to never suffer defeat."
The Throne of Heaven grew quiet.
Michael caught her breath and added, "However, she is still no match for you, Lord Caesar."
Caesar replied briefly, "Is that so?"
There was no satisfaction in his voice, nor was there any alarm.
There was only a calm indifference, as if a piece of information had simply been categorized.
Michael bowed again.
"Regardless, the fact that she is a variable remains unchanged."
"Indeed."
Caesar looked back at the moon.
The moon of the New World shone silently.
He who reads the cycles of the sun and moon gains power.
He who defines time governs the lives of men.
In that case.
What is one who fixes the laws of the world, relativizes divine protection, and rejects the judgment of death?
Caesar said nothing more.
Silence reclaimed the Throne of Heaven.
And so, the night of the Thousand Kingdom deepened.
---
E-Rantel.
Gazef Stronoff was leaning against a wall, panting heavily.
His entire body felt as if it were breaking apart.
The muscles in his arms and legs throbbed with a tearing pain.
His joints creaked.
His heart was still racing wildly.
It felt as though hot mana still lingered beneath his skin.
That power.
Those buffs.
The enhancement magic that woman had cast on him.
It had been far too immense for Gazef’s body to contain.
Right beside him, the mysterious purple-haired woman was treating him.
"[Heal]."
A warm light seeped into Gazef’s wounds.
Torn muscles knit back together.
Cracked bones stabilized.
Lacerated skin closed up.
However, the deep-seated fatigue did not vanish completely.
His body was recovering, but the strain it had endured remained.
Gazef looked at her.
She was a young woman.
Wavy purple hair.
Clear, steady eyes.
A face so serene it was hard to believe she was the same person who had waged a battle of gods in the middle of a war zone.
Gazef spoke up.
"I am Gazef Stronoff, the Warrior Captain of the Kingdom."
He paused to catch his breath.
"And your name?"
The woman looked up.
Her purple hair fluttered slightly in the night breeze.
"I am called Iel," she said calmly.
"I come from Sylvania."
Sylvania.
Gazef repeated the name to himself.
It was a place he had never heard of.
Not in the Kingdom’s history books.
Not in the Empire’s records.
Not on the maps of demi-human nations.
Not even in the reports of the Adventurer's Guild.
He had never seen such a name.
But one thing was certain.
This woman had saved the citizens of E-Rantel.
She had held back thousands of undead.
She had overwhelmed the follower of the Black Goat.
And she had prevented his own body from collapsing.
Gazef slowly bowed his head.
"Thank you," he said with sincere gratitude.
"For saving the people of this land."
Iel smiled at his words.
"You are very welcome."
Gazef was momentarily speechless.
That smile was unnervingly clear.
It was hard to believe it belonged to someone who had just annihilated thousands of undead and fought an entity bordering on divinity.
It felt as if a celestial angel had descended to earth.
She was beautiful.
But Gazef quickly regained his composure.
He was a warrior.
He had to maintain his propriety.
He spoke cautiously.
"Would you have any interest in being employed by our Kingdom?"
Iel looked at Gazef.
Gazef continued, "I promise the compensation will be more than sufficient. If a power like yours were in the Kingdom, many more people could be saved."
Iel was silent for a moment.
To belong to a kingdom.
It meant receiving protection.
At the same time, it meant being subject to restrictions.
The King’s commands.
The interests of the nobles.
National diplomacy.
Military duties.
Political responsibilities.
All of these things could bind her.
Iel did not hate the Kingdom.
She also felt that Gazef was a man worthy of trust.
However, a single good man and the structure of a nation are two different things.
A good Warrior Captain and the orders of a Kingdom are different.
The moment her power became a banner for a certain faction, she might find herself distanced from the very people she wished to protect.
Iel quietly shook her head.
"I must refuse."
Gazef gave a wry smile.
"Is that your final decision?"
"It is."
Gazef watched her for a moment before nodding.
"I understand."
He used his sword as a brace and slowly pushed himself up.
"But I promise you, I will find a way to repay this debt one day."
Iel gave a small bow.
"Thank you."
And so, the two parted ways.
---
Near E-Rantel.
Iel walked slowly around the outskirts of the fortress city.
The chaos of the night had passed, but the city had not yet fully regained its tranquility.
Temporary wooden planks were being laid over broken stone paths.
Guards were stationed at every alleyway.
There were residents sorting through their belongings in front of collapsed shops.
Some were still wandering the streets, calling out the names of their family members.
Some were recovering the bodies of the dead.
Others were weeping, relieved to have survived.
And the eyes of the people kept gathering on one person.
Purple hair.
A black robe.
An expensive-looking staff in her hand.
The woman who had annihilated thousands of undead in E-Rantel’s central plaza the night before and overwhelmed the dark follower who bordered on divinity.
It was Iel.
The citizens began to whisper as they saw her.
"Is that her?"
"Yeah. I saw her at the plaza yesterday."
"That’s the woman who fought that monster."
"She didn't look like a priest, and she didn't seem like a normal mage either..."
"Then what exactly is she?"
Some looked at her with awe.
Others stepped aside with frightened expressions.
Children hid behind the hems of their parents' clothes, peering up at Iel.
Then, someone said in a low voice, "Who’s stronger, Iel or Caesar?"
Someone else immediately countered, "Caesar is stronger! He defeated a demon!"
"Iel is stronger! Didn't you see yesterday? She drove back that black monster!"
"But Caesar looked like a god descending from the heavens."
"That woman looked like a god too, didn't she?"
"By the way, isn't she really beautiful?"
Those words reached Iel’s ears.
Iel lowered her head.
She felt embarrassed.
No.
It wasn't just simple embarrassment.
She hated being put on a pedestal.
It had been that way since she was a child.
It was the same when she was in Sylvania.
It was the same during her studies in Jarmen.
The first Ether Mage.
The strongest mage in Sylvania.
The extraordinary scholar of Jarmen.
The genius who earned eight degrees.
The person who had pushed both magic and academia to their absolute limits.
People had always elevated her.
And people always gathered around those who were elevated.
Those who respected her.
Those who wanted to use her.
Those who were jealous.
Those who wanted to create a faction using her name as a banner.
She had only asked questions.
She had only studied.
She had only pointed out when something was wrong.
But at some point, she found herself at the center of everyone’s attention.
Her reason for leaving Sylvania wasn't purely out of a sense of justice.
She did want to save the humanity of the outside world.
She did feel she couldn't ignore those who were suffering.
But at the same time, she wanted to escape the friction that arose because of her.
She wanted to avoid the title of 'Strongest in Sylvania.'
She wanted to prevent her name from becoming someone else’s flag.
And yet.
'It’s the same here, isn't it?'
Iel let out a quiet sigh.
People gather around the exceptional.
They praise them.
They exploit their names.
A new order arises regardless of that person’s intentions.
Perhaps it was only natural in human affairs.
She didn't want to boast of her excellence.
But the resulting phenomenon was unavoidable.
Power gathers people.
Fame creates order.
And order, in turn, becomes power.
Iel found it uncomfortable.
She hated becoming an authority herself.
However, if one with power did nothing, that too could be an evasion of responsibility.
Iel looked up.
She then walked into the Adventurer's Guild of E-Rantel.
As the door opened, the noise inside the guild momentarily subsided.
An adventurer holding a tankard froze.
Those reading papers in front of the request board turned their heads.
A swordsman maintaining his armor.
A magic caster holding a staff.
An archer with a bow slung over their shoulder.
Warriors with thick, muscular arms.
All of them stared at Iel.
Every gaze converged on her at once.
"Look at that. That staff..."
"It looks expensive. No, it’s beyond just expensive, isn't it?"
"Did you see the battle?"
"I did. I was near the central plaza."
"How was it?"
"It was insane. She wasn't... she wasn't just a magic caster. She was like a natural disaster."
"Is she Adamantite-rank?"
"She’s probably the Adamantite among Adamantites."
"Wait, can the word 'Adamantite' even describe that?"
Adamantite.
The highest rank for an adventurer.
To the adventurers of this world, it was the ultimate symbol of honor and skill.
Iel gave a small, wry smile as she heard the word.
She was already being perceived as the pinnacle even by the adventurers.
She muttered to herself, "Well, I suppose it can't be helped."
She then walked up to the reception desk.
The receptionist was a woman with an ordinary appearance.
She wore a cloth wrap on her head, and her eyes were soft.
But right now, she was visibly shaken.
As Iel approached, the receptionist hurriedly began organizing her papers.
"Ex... excuse me..."
The receptionist’s voice trembled.
"You are... the one who fought at the walls... the savior of E-Rantel... correct?"
The stares within the guild intensified.
The receptionist swallowed hard.
"What brings you here..."
Iel answered calmly, "I have come to become an adventurer."
The receptionist’s eyes widened.
"Pardon?"
The surrounding adventurers also began to buzz.
"An adventurer?"
"Her?"
"Isn't she already Adamantite-rank?"
"She’s registering from the start?"
The receptionist looked at Iel with a bewildered face.
"Um... if it is adventurer registration, it is possible, but..."
Her hands shook slightly as she pulled out the documents.
"Generally, you must start from the lowest rank. According to the regulations, even if you prove your skills, there is a procedure... Of course, considering yesterday’s events, I believe I must report this to the Guild Master."
Iel nodded. "That is fine. Please proceed according to the regulations."
The receptionist hesitated for a moment.
She looked as if those words were the last thing she expected.
The mage who had saved E-Rantel.
The person who had fought an entity close to divinity.
Such a person was saying she would follow the ordinary procedures.
The receptionist regained some of her composure and picked up a pen.
"Your name is... Iel, is that correct?"
"Yes. I am Iel."
"Your place of origin..."
Iel hesitated for a moment.
"Sylvania."
The receptionist’s pen stopped mid-air.
"Sylvania..."
She looked as if she had never heard of it.
"Is that not a location within the Kingdom?"
"It is not."
Several adventurers in the guild exchanged glances.
Was she a mage from a distant land?
Did she come from a hidden magical nation?
Or was it a city from another world not on any map?
Such speculations were quietly exchanged.
The receptionist did not press further.
"Weapon of choice is a staff... Shall I register your primary occupation as a Magic Caster?"
Iel thought for a moment.
"Please list it as Mage."
"The tier you are capable of..."
The receptionist stopped herself as she said that.
She hadn't seen the battle at the plaza personally.
But she had heard the reports.
She had eliminated thousands of undead.
She had blocked magic that tore through space.
She had fought an entity that seemed like a divine kin.
Asking about her tier felt awkward.
Iel said plainly, "To be precise, it is difficult to explain using the standards of this world."
The tip of the receptionist’s pen froze.
"Is... that so?"
"Yes."
The receptionist carefully turned the page.
"Then I will first list you as a candidate for special examination. An interview with the Guild Master will be necessary."
Iel nodded. "I understand."
Just then, the inner doors of the guild opened.
Several high-ranking staff members of the E-Rantel Adventurer's Guild appeared.
They seemed to have already heard the news.
Their expressions were a mix of tension and expectation.
The receptionist stood up and approached them.
"Lady Iel wishes to register as an adventurer."
Those words spread through the guild.
The adventurers began to buzz once more.
The mysterious mage who had saved E-Rantel yesterday.
The existence that was already being compared to Caesar.
The woman from a place called Sylvania that no one had ever heard of.
She had now stepped through the doors of the Adventurer's Guild.
Iel stood there quietly.
The stares were still uncomfortable.
The praise.
The curiosity.
The fear.
The jealousy.
All of it was directed at her.
But she knew.
To understand this world, she needed information.
She needed to know where people were dying.
Where they were being devoured.
What kind of monsters were appearing.
What the various nations were hiding.
What powers were crushing the weak.
She had to know.
The status of an adventurer could be the starting point for that.
Iel gripped her staff and waited in front of the reception desk.
She did not want to be a hero.
But to save people, she had to go among them.
Even if it was uncomfortable.
Even if it pushed her into the center of power once again.
For now, she had to walk forward.
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