Far from the Kingdom of Diamantia lay a vast forest. It was not an ordinary woodland where travelers could wander freely. Any outsider who attempted to step inside without permission would not make it far. Arrows would greet them from every direction before they even realized they had been seen.

  This forest belonged to the elves. It was not a small hidden settlement, but their primary residence on the continent. The land was known as Greenwood, also called the Greenwood Crown. At its heart stood the Forest of Souls.

  The name came from the ancient tree that towered above all others. The Tree of Passing was said to be one of the largest and oldest beings on the continent. According to legend, it guided souls to the afterlife. Not only elven souls, but all souls born on the continent. It offered passage, and for those who sought repentance, a chance to begin again in another life.

  The elves guarded the forest with absolute devotion. Gifted in magic and long-lived, they had maintained their borders for centuries. No army had ever breached their defenses.

  No one except devils.

  Recently, in a restricted region sealed by royal decree, a dimensional fissure had appeared. It tore open without warning. Fortunately, no civilians were nearby at the moment of its emergence. Even standing at a distance and looking at it caused headaches and nausea. The area had been sealed off until a solution could be found. But repairing a rupture in reality itself was not a task for mortals. That belonged to beings from the world above.

  Now, two figures stood near the site where the fissure had first manifested.

  Both had blonde hair. One had long, sharp elven ears. The other possessed four pairs of radiant white wings. Those wings marked the highest rank among angels.

  She was Riona, widely known as the Judge.

  Beside her stood King Greenwood, ruler of the Greenwood Crown and lord of the Forest of Souls. His lineage had guarded the Tree of Passing for generations beyond count.

  He stood slightly behind Riona, silent, worry etched across his face.

  To most people, the fissure had caused no visible damage beyond the land it scarred. But for King Greenwood, the impact had been far greater.

  The royal family of elves carried a rare gift. They could see souls.

  While ordinary mortals saw a clear blue sky, King Greenwood saw something else entirely. Countless blue-green orbs drifting across the heavens. They were the souls of the deceased, moving toward the Tree of Passing.

  Some came to depart peacefully. Some came burdened by regret. Some came hoping for another chance at life.

  When the dimensional fissure opened, it began pulling those souls inward.

  At first, only a few vanished. Then hundreds. Then thousands.

  He had watched them get dragged into the tear and shredded apart.

  By the time he understood what was happening, it was already too late for many of them.

  Ignoring protests from his guards and advisors, King Greenwood erected a soul barrier around the affected region. Only someone of the royal line could create such a barrier. Their authority extended beyond sight. They could influence the flow of souls themselves.

  The barrier prevented further souls from drifting toward the fissure.

  But maintaining it drained him severely.

  Still, he endured. He believed someone from the world above would notice. The disturbance was too severe to ignore.

  He was right.

  Hours later, a presence descended from the sky.

  When King Greenwood saw who it was, the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.

  The one sent to investigate was none other than the Judge.

  Throughout the history of the Zeron Continent, angels had descended many times. But even among them, the Judge held a reputation apart from the rest. She was known for decisive action and for carrying out divine will without hesitation. The last time she descended publicly, it had been to purge corruption within Thymera’s Church. Now that same Judge stood within the Greenwood Crown to restore balance.

  Riona was performing Divine Art Correction.

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  It was not a combat technique. Thymera herself had taught it to her. The art allowed its user to momentarily take ownership over a fragment of reality and restore it to proper order. The principle was simple in explanation, but the execution demanded extreme precision. Even among high-ranking angels, few had mastered it.

  Riona stood with her eyes closed. Divine power flowed from her in steady waves, threading into the air itself. She examined the structure of reality where the fissure had once torn through. She searched for lingering instability, any remaining distortion.

  After several long moments, she opened her eyes and exhaled slowly.

  The strain was visible, though she did not show weakness openly.

  “It is stable now, King Greenwood,” she said. “There will be no further disorder in this region. You may be at ease.”

  King Greenwood stepped forward. Though he was a monarch, he did not cling to formality in her presence. The elves did not worship Thymera, but they knew well who governed the higher order of this Continent. Respect came naturally.

  “I cannot thank you enough for your assistance, Lady Riona,” he said sincerely. “However… the souls that were consumed. Is there truly nothing that can be done?”

  Riona’s gaze sharpened slightly, but her tone remained steady.

  “My answer will not change. Those drawn into the fissure are beyond recovery. Even my Goddess cannot restore what has been erased.”

  The King lowered his head. He did not kneel, but he bowed slightly. As King of the elves, he could not bow deeply to anyone. Still, he showed gratitude.

  “You need not thank me repeatedly,” Riona replied. “I was performing my duty.”

  She tilted her head slightly. “When you fulfill your duty as king, does anyone thank you?”

  King Greenwood gave a small, tired smile. “No.”

  “Then we are the same,” she said. “I have completed my task. I will return.”

  “To the Divine Realm?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “If possible,” he added carefully, “would you remain a few more days? A feast has been prepared in your honor. Not all would understand why, but I wished to mark the occasion.”

  Riona shook her head. “Angels descend to work, not to celebrate. I cannot stay.”

  “That is unfortunate,” the King said softly.

  Riona unfolded her four pairs of wings. Divine light flowed from them in steady currents. The King’s pupils widened slightly as he felt the power emanating from her.

  She was about to ascend when something fell from the sky and landed in front of her.

  A letter.

  King Greenwood reacted instantly, preparing a defensive spell, but Riona raised her hand to stop him. She caught the letter midair.

  She examined the seal for a few seconds.

  “Is something wrong, Lady Riona?” the King asked.

  She did not answer immediately. Then she said, “It is a letter from Her Majesty.”

  The King’s thoughts raced. Who could the Judge herself refer to as “Her Majesty”?

  The answer struck him like a sudden wave.

  Goddess Thymera.

  “The letter… is it from the Goddess?” he asked carefully.

  Riona nodded.

  The King wanted to ask what it contained, but propriety restrained him. It would be inappropriate to pry into divine correspondence.

  Riona broke the seal and read.

  The King watched her expression closely. When she finished, she folded the letter slowly.

  Then she smiled.

  It was not a gentle smile. It was closer to a grin.

  “Recruiting a new one?” she murmured. “It’s been a while since I trained a newcomer.”

  King Greenwood felt a slight chill. Recruiting? A newcomer? He did not understand, but seeing the Judge grin unsettled him.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked.

  Riona glanced at him. “Do you know that when a god finds a mortal interesting, they may grant them the right to ascend? By divine will, a mortal can be made into an angel.”

  The King stared at her.

  “Angels are not only born in the Divine Realm,” she continued. “Some are chosen.”

  “This letter instructs me to prepare one such mortal. A human favored by the Goddess herself.”

  The King was stunned. He had never heard of such a case. In all recorded texts, angels were described as beings native to the Divine Realm, closest to the gods from birth.

  “May I ask the name of this fortunate individual?” he said cautiously.

  Riona glanced at the letter once more. “Helena”

  The King silently committed the name to memory.

  Riona folded the letter away. “I should depart.”

  She rose slightly into the air. “Goodbye, King Greenwood. Continue your work.”

  As she ascended, a quiet chuckle escaped her.

  “A newbie… I’ve wanted one for a while.”

  What King Greenwood did not know was this: the letter she had read as a command was written more like a request.

  But Riona had already interpreted it as an order.

  ---

  Rias walked down the corridor toward Helena’s room.

  “I think they’re done talking by now,” she muttered.

  Her gaze drifted across the interior as she walked. The Merchant Guild had spared no expense. The stonework was flawless, the wood polished to a deep shine, the carvings precise and elegant. Even the central chandelier had been crafted by one of the finest artisans on the continent. It alone was rumored to cost more than fifteen thousand gold coins.

  Under normal circumstances, she would have felt proud.

  Instead, her sense of value felt slightly broken.

  After hearing Laysandra describe the auction, numbers had stopped meaning what they used to. Laysandra did not know the exact figure Helena had paid, only that when Duke Merlo bid one million gold coins, Helena had responded by pouring out piles of gold directly onto the stage.

  It technically violated auction protocol.

  No one objected.

  Money tended to quiet procedure.

  By the end, Helena had built such overwhelming presence in the hall that no one dared accuse her of crossing lines. She had even pressured the Guild Master into completing the estate transfer on the spot.

  A small laugh slipped from Rias.

  “That old man finally met his match.”

  The amusement did not last. She had her own questions. She had already checked Helena’s identity through the Guild’s Record Magic tool. Helena Winterwell. Eldest daughter of the Winterwell family.

  Which made things more complicated.

  Rumor said Helena had fled the convent to avoid punishment. The Second Prince was supposedly still searching for her. A mask at the auction would not protect her for long. With the way she behaved, remaining unidentified for even three days would be impressive.

  Rias stopped in front of Helena’s door and knocked.

  No response.

  She reached for the handle, but before she could open it, the door swung inward.

  Laysandra stood there.

  She still looked irritated.

  Rias blinked. “What happened?”

  Laysandra crossed her arms. “Helena escaped.”

  “Escaped?” Rias frowned. “What do you mean escaped?”

  “She jumped out the window.”