Gregas Calendar – Year 176, Day 17, Month 6
A slow yawn escapes me as sunlight peeks through the pale blue curtains. I stretch, bones cracking with satisfaction as I sit up. The soft warmth of the bed tempts me to lay back down, especially with the bodies of Lilith and Lani nestled closely on either side. Last night was... intense.
We had thrown a small party after completing a difficult mission—one that pushed our adventurer party rank to Red, a first-rate designation. While I'm individually Silver Rank, parties must prove their synergy and cohesion to climb. Our start at Blue Rank had nothing to do with power—it was about learning to work as one. We've made great progress... but there's still more to achieve.
It's been about a week—maybe seven or eight days—since I fought the Earth Spirit. Since then, I heard troubling news: the Elven Forest bordering the plains suffered a massacre. One of the Demon Lord's underlings was revived and unleashed devastation. Of the 50,000 elves, only 26,000 survived. Witnesses said a dark purple flame rained from the sky. Some were left untouched, while others were turned to screaming ash.
That doesn't sit right with me. Fire that burns selectively? There's something else at play. But that's for another time. Right now... I want to sleep in a bit longer.
I close my eyes.
And then—bam!
The door crashes open. Of course.
Frana strolls in with her usual bright smile, clearly enjoying her role as our unwanted alarm clock. My hangover is nonexistent, as always. It's like alcohol just gives up on me.
"Good morning, Frana," I groan, sitting up again.
Her smile widens—genuine now. She always barges in like this. Tomorrow, I'm sure Lani will kick the door down in revenge. It's a cycle. One day they'll grow out of it.
"When will you stop waking us up so early?" I mutter, rubbing my face. "You're cutting your own time short."
Her smile falters. I sigh. "Don't be sad. I just want you to enjoy what you have, while you have it." I walk to her, stroke her hair, and kiss her forehead.
I grab some fresh clothes—white pants, a red-and-black shirt—and pull on my prized magic coat: a white and gold hooded jacket with powerful enchantments. It boosts magic potency, dampens enemy spells and blades, but rapidly consumes mana. I regenerate about 20% of my mana every five seconds, so I can maintain it for two days if needed. But in real combat? Three hours tops, especially if I face someone like Shura or Syrah again.
Speaking of them—my summons.
Shura, my divine-class pegasus, is a Guide, one of the rarest in existence. She's cryptic—says there are only ten of her kind, and that sharing her true path causes obsession and ruin. I respect her silence.
Syrah is a Protector—middle-tier, assigned to guard entire solar systems. Each of her kind protects a maximum of twelve planets, and only fifty exist per galaxy. She serves balance.
It's strange how much I've learned from them. There are Ten Gods, each omnipotent, with divine dependents. I'm one of them—but unlike others, I wasn't gifted divinity. I took it.
The Successor Games, as they're called, are a trial to determine which dependent will rise by absorbing the others' divine essence. A divine free-for-all sanctioned by the gods themselves. It's a sick game—one where I must survive, grow, and, ultimately, win.
I'm certain Shiro will join once he finds out. He's too stubborn not to. We've always pushed each other—neither of us willing to stay second best. But now... now I need to be first.
I slide on my enhanced shoes, grab my twin-headed scythe, and prepare to leave. Lilith and Lani are still sound asleep. Last night must've exhausted them—especially since it was their first time. I'll let them rest.
As I open the door to leave—there they are. Of course.
"Guess you two are tagging along?" I say with a crooked smile.
Frana blushes, stammering, "I-I'll be in your care."
Kara, ever the bold one, wraps her arm around mine. "You don't mind, right?"
Today's companions chosen.
We head to a diner next door for a light breakfast—toast, cured meat, and eggs. Simple, hearty food.
"So, did you sleep well?" I ask casually.
Frana nods, brushing hair behind her ear. "Y-Yes. Peaceful, thank you."
Kara smirks, her voice dripping seduction. "It would've been better if you shared your bed again."
That's Kara for you—holy princess, divine healer, and total seductress. She's the world's best holy magic user. Despite her licentious attitude, she's invaluable. Holy magic, unlike Light magic, doesn't attack—it heals, banishes undead, and invokes miracles. She's indispensable.
Frana, on the other hand, is the heart of our group—gentle, naive, and full of compassion. She's the kind of girl who'd forgive the enemy who tried to kill her. That's why I swore to protect her smile.
Once breakfast wraps up, we head to the Adventurer's Guild. The streets of Larkingdon, capital of the kingdom, are overwhelming. A kaleidoscope of races—elves, lamias, vampires, undead, beastkin, and more. Even high-functioning zombies roam freely.
The city is clean and majestic, with towering Romanesque columns and grand coliseums. We arrived late last night, so I hadn't seen it in daylight. It's breathtaking.
Inside the guild—three stories. We enter on the second floor, where mission requests hang like leaves in autumn. Above us, an inn for beginners. Below, a tavern buzzing with morning chatter.
We scan the walls for a suitable quest.
And just like that, my day off begins.
But it never stays simple in this world