The Realm, eight days after the Highest Trial began.

Juniper and Sideark had been pitted against each other, through both careless words and a very passionate fanbase, both fourthers were now competing to show that they were indeed the kindest and greatest people The Realm had ever seen. Of course that was probably how Sideark saw it. Juniper probably saw it as doing the right thing that came with natural benefits.

Gamielle made a face as she watched all of the various videos being posted on realmnet.

Normally such a thing would make Gamielle think it was cute. The problem was that she was certain that the entire thing had Ryan’s grubby fingers all over it, and she… she was coming back from a string of failures to plot against her mother.

Even the Shadow Tyrant, or rather uncle Jai had shook his head and said to ‘trust that things will fall into place’.

It was half her fault, she could see that now. Approaching the Tyrants when they had their game faces on and trying to convince them that their teammate and friend had well and truly lost her mind wasn’t the best timed move. Hoping uncle Jai would overtly declare against her mother while he had a whole city he considered family was… just really stupid on her part.

Too much excitement at being free from my mother’s constraints, one chance to say what I wanted and I blew it.

So, Gamielle sat, brooding in front of her own gravestone. The fault and cause of all of this, her own brashness and stupidity.

She chopped down at the stupid thing with all of her might.

Great defenses flared up, stopping her attack in every single facet. Gamielle took that moment to stare into the defenses, memorizing it for her next real attempt to deface her own gravestone.

Her mother’s illusion appeared, a little amused and maybe a little annoyed. Showing more emotion than Gamielle had ever seen her since she’d died. She had hoped that maybe things would change now that her mind wasn’t so split.

Things had changed, but one look into her mother’s eyes made her regret ever telling Pinkie to attack her. The Witch Tyrant was more determined than ever to bring her daughter back to life. At any cost.

Which was very conflicting because she had chosen to stay behind and let the five dumbest Tyrants complete the Highest Trial by themselves.

Her mother was the one that first seemed uncomfortable with the staredown.

“Have you been having fun with your newfound freedom?”

Gamielle skipped over the mother that gloated over her own daughter’s failures.

“Didn’t you say that you and uncle Jai were the smart ones of the group? What if they mess up and fail? You might not even have enough time for another attempt.”

The Witch was undeterred by her doubts. “The Archmage Tyrant is with them. He has matured over the years and is capable of keeping the others in line. I do not believe they will fail.”

This was a big gamble. It absolutely was possible that the five could mess up and fail this attempt.

Without the Trial System to stabilize Trial skills, her mother would lose both of her Legends and any chance of reviving her daughter would be gone. Gamielle narrowed her eyes at her mother.

“You must have listened in on Mezhar’s after-action report.”

Her mother’s lips quirked slightly, confirming what she had guessed. Mezhar’s team, the only other team that had ever attempted the Highest Trial had failed, and likely they had an internal after-action report.

Gamielle flopped back to the grass, a little annoyed that her mother had, of course, planned everything out and had so much trust in her allies that she knew they wouldn’t fail. Her screens followed with her, playing videos of fourthers dragging feral Unwanted Elves. Bringing them to salvation…

Whether they wanted it or not.

Normally, during the Highest Trial attempt, all adventurers were supposed to be mobilized in defense of various major cities in The Realm. Yet due to an outpour of support, adventurers in the fourth realm were encouraged to help the rescue efforts instead.

Gamielle found it frustrating. It wasn’t like there wasn’t pushback against the rescue effort. Ironically, the uplifted humans and dwarves from Sector Four were some of the most outspoken against the movement to save the Unwanted Elves. Some of the older folks refused to believe that those tall elongated monsters could be civilized.

After all, what would it say about them when these creatures that you warred against hadn’t been monsters at all? That these creatures you used to scare your kids were people with feelings? That an entire group of creatures that hunted you and that you hunted back had been just like them?

Victims of circumstance.

Not to mention the elves from other Sectors. There were more than a few outspoken groups of elves that refused to believe that they could possibly mutate into these horrifying beasts while the lesser humans and dwarves didn’t.

None of that mattered in the end.

The heroic clips of Sideark and the Eternal Delvers saving huddled families of the Unwanted hit most of the population so hard that exceptions were made and the very vocal arguments were drowned out by an onslaught of popular support.

The Adventurer’s Guild, looking to recover some of their lost trust, started to push the image that they were heroes, diving deep into the dark to find and rescue people.

Gamielle had noticed the slight twitch of dissatisfaction from her mother at the screens. Which just annoyed Gamielle further. It only confirmed that her mother hadn’t planned all of this herself. That would’ve been understandable.

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“There is no way he planned for all of this to happen, right? I know Ryan, he’s a spiteful deviant, but he’s not that good of a planner. I refuse to believe it.”

She was there when he first arrived in The Realm, an awkward lost guy who was just trying to keep cool amongst a sea of judgmental adventurers, with a quest too big for his britches, placed onto a hostile board he had no idea existed.

And now he was here, and Gamielle couldn’t help but feel… a sense of inferiority? A feeling that if Ryan had been in her shoes he would have succeeded in doing… something against her mother.

Her mother, perhaps sensing her daughter’s discomfort, tried to placate her. “Not all of it was planned. I don’t believe he knew Juniper’s fans would come into conflict with Sideark and that it would cause such a heated rivalry.”

“So he did work it out with Sideark! I knew that square jawed bastard wouldn’t help without benefits. And Tar’el? How the hell did that happen?”

Gamielle hadn’t missed how the young Leafstalker awkwardly skipped around the questions when asked about their hunt against Artigan. She couldn’t believe it. From the reports that she had gathered–mainly by ordering the First Leaf to tell her everything, Artigan had kidnapped Tar’el and had somehow forced a fanatic Leafstalker to be one of the biggest proponents pushing the Unwanted to become people.

And now he was the face of the Leafstalker operation that was trying to help the Unwanted settle into an outpost. A quarantined area that adventurers and Leafstalkers were welcome in, to help them settle and get civilized.

Her mother didn’t respond or tell her anything, which said it all really. Gamielle couldn’t imagine how the hell Ryan had pulled that off and that annoyed the hell out of her.

The worst part was, this wasn’t even the first time that she’d felt disheartened by Ryan’s plotting. In fact, she remembered actually giving up and using sympathy to make him apologize to her.

At the time it made her feel better. Now? She realized she had given up too easily. Too annoyed to deal with any of Ryan’s petty trickery. She had given up…

AGAINST SOMEONE WHO HAD ONLY BEEN IN THE THIRD REALM.

Gamielle just lay there, defeated, staring at the sky. She just had to admit it. She was feeling inferior to a fourther. Not in terms of talent or power but because he kept doing things in a way that she didn’t imagine was possible.

“What do you think is the difference between me and him, mother?”

The Witch Tyrant stared at her daughter’s face, as if memorizing it, taking in the very human feeling of inferiority her daughter was giving out. Then she looked at the distance.

“That boy is someone that grew up seeing every problem like it is a Trial to be completed. He does not believe anything to be impossible.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. I don’t see Juniper and feel inferior.”

Plenty of adventurers growing up in this generation thought like Ryan did. Even Mezhar, the newest Legend didn’t surprise her as much as Ryan did.

Her mother took her time to carefully think on her words, then in usual fashion, she told Gamielle the truth with no embellishments. “The difference between you and him is that you never truly struggled and failed. You were always too talented for your own good. When that failure did finally happen, you never recovered. You’re still stuck in that past, hesitating and throwing half-hearted attempts, afraid that it will backfire.”

Gamielle went silent for a moment.

“Ouch mom, that hurt.”

===================================================

The Fifth Trial.

Baron Uterpe dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief, he was sweating profusely and his heart rate was sky high. It was fair enough considering the monster that was sitting on his bedroom chair.

The silver-haired monster that had slaughtered Duchess Rudalia’s army and marched into the royal palace was now in his room.

The crown capital had been completely silent to all his requests for information.

Then the deaths started happening. People in power started falling like flies. Some of the most powerful attempted to raise defenses, all futile against this monster’s assault. Now it was all chaos and everyone in power was fleeing.

Nobody knew if the disappearance was a murder or someone had managed to get away.

It was a good thing in Uterpe’s opinion. There was a rumor that the elf was only killing Rudalia’s staunchest supporters and he had connected the dots. Though apparently that rumor had been false. Now it was his turn. He pulled up his bedsheet, as if it would be a defense against this monster.

“I-is there something I can help you with?”

The elf was holding a rod of slightly rusted iron, he was bending the end with his fingers, making it into a sharp point.

The silver haired elf ignored his question. “You know, I once saw a bunch of teenagers start harassing an old homeless man for no reason other than for kicks.”

That was the opening statement from the elf, and Uterpe really had no idea how what to say to that.

“I-it happens I suppose. Kids will be kids and all.”

“I never did understand that myself.” Artigan said coldly, raising the rod of metal looking at the point in the candlelight. “Hurting people that you didn’t know anything about, that you don’t know if they deserved it or not. I just don’t get it, there’s so many people that deserve it out there, why hurt someone that doesn’t matter?”

Uterpe saw a lifeline when he saw it.

“I-I have never harmed the weak. No slavery, no unsavory business.”

The elf waved his hand, causing Uterpe to flinch back. He pointed the iron spike at Uterpe.

“It’s why we’re here, talking, and why this hasn’t gone through your chest right now.”

Uterpe breathed a sigh of relief, he might not be dying today. “What do you need? To fund homeless shelters and get them out of poverty? I can’t do it by myself but if you can consolidate resources I’m sure it’s possible.”

The elf seemed confused at the offer, he shook his head. “No, no. I don’t care about it. I just remembered seeing it and thinking it was a waste, I did make a promise but I don’t have the right method for it, not yet. No, slavery is the only thing I won’t tolerate. Understand?”

The elf jabbed the point at his chest.

Uterpe could do nothing but accept. “Of course, of course! There are lines that a self-respecting man er-elf, should never cross. I always believed slavery to be one of them.”

For what felt like the longest minute of Uterpe’s life, the elf just stared at him. Then he stabbed the metal pole through the bedpost, next to Uterpe’s head. The elf was on top of him staring into Uterpe’s soul. Red crackling aura spreading and crystallizing into the bedpost, making the poor baron become incontinent.

“I was never good at reading people. I will check by every couple of decades, if I find that the kingdom’s changed trajectory I will hold your King accountable first, then I will come after all of you and do this again until it all works. Understand?”

“Y-yes, of course!”

===================================================

It was day ten when Ryan had stopped terrorizing the entire kingdom and returned back to Theskar’s castle. He had contemplated making a visit to the nearby elven forests but they were too scattered to threaten in one quick mobilization.

He had taken inspiration from the Tyrants and what they had done with The Realm. Purge the most problematic people first and cower the others into keeping in line with overwhelming force. He himself acted the part of a slightly awkward elf with principles he pretended to not understand.

Then he put the responsibility onto the King. Threatening his life as if these nobles cared about their king’s life more than themselves. It did two things. It gave all the people in power a fall guy to stand behind if something went wrong. The main point however, was to actually provide protection for the King’s rule.

As long as the King was alive, Artigan approved of where the direction where the Kingdom was heading.

He was effectively giving King Theskar the divine right to rule.

The only problem was that something still annoyed him. This was the Tyrants’ solution, and while he loved The Realm and all of its quirks, he understood better than anyone how flawed it was to hold up a world with mighty, seemingly mythological individuals.

“What do you think, Theskar?”

“I would appreciate it if you did not barge into my chambers while I am with the Queen.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep