The Empire was unraveling.
The barrier had shattered; black lightning split the skies. Temples burned, the air reeked of decay, and the screams of the dying echoed between collapsing spires.
Then—amidst the maelstrom—three figures walked out of the storm.
Each step they took rippled through the flooded streets, and even the storm's madness seemed to pause.
The first was a man cloaked in midnight robes stitched with runes that pulsed faintly red. When he raised his hand, symbols flared across the air—ancient, geometric sigils of pure destruction.
The soldiers nearby felt their hearts tremble.
Even the rain avoided him.
"Begone," Seir said softly, his eyes glowing with crimson light.
With a single gesture, the Law of Ruin unfolded in the sky. A vast circle of intertwined symbols rotated like a burning wheel. It pulsed once—
—and the black lightning vanished, consumed by its own annihilation.
The storm shrieked in defiance. New clouds gathered. Seir only smiled faintly. "So even this storm fears to die."
He raised another hand, weaving symbols faster than the eye could follow. His Law of Ruin extended outward, each sigil acting as an anchor of entropy. The storm's corruption began to decay upon contact—dark rain dissolving into harmless mist.
"I can destroy what taints us," he muttered, "but not what is nothing."
Seir, the Supreme Archmage of the Lalrem Empire, had subdued the behemoth storm threatening the city by himself.
Such was the power of those who had comprehended their own Law.
...
Where the Archmage's presence twisted the air, the second figure made it still.
A towering man clad in battered plate armor walked into the floodwaters, each step leaving ripples that shimmered with invisible weight. His very will pressed down upon the world like a mountain. His path had never been one of magic, but of pure essence—the comprehension of the Law of Dominion.
Dominion—Control.
He slammed his spear into the earth.
Power surged.
The storm-winds bent around him, unable to touch his body.
"Stand behind me," Ragan told to the knights. "I shall command the heavens to yield!"
His voice carried the weight of Law. The rain above his head stopped. Even the clouds hesitated to descend further into his domain.
His aura expanded like an unseen fortress.
All who stood within his presence felt the Law of Dominion—the authority to command existence itself through sheer will.
"Advance," he ordered.
And so the broken army of the Empire found its breath again, surging forward beneath a sky that dared not defy him.
....
High above, on the crumbling edge of a tower, a lone swordsman stood motionless in the storm's heart—his hair whipping like silver flame.
His blade hummed quietly. He had not yet swung it.
He did not need to.
"Everything has a line of weakness," he murmured, eyes half-closed. "Even the heavens."
The sword pulsed once—then vanished.
In the next instant, a single stroke cleaved through the clouds. The storm split apart in silence before sound caught up, roaring through the heavens like a thousand drums.
Kael exhaled slowly. His Law of Severance did not simply cut matter—it cut cause.
He had sliced through the source of the storm's fury, separating corruption from sky.
For a heartbeat, the world was still.
....
Lightning flickered one last time and faded. The rain softened. The corrupted air dispersed into ash.
The three figures stood amidst the half-ruined capital.
The First Prince's eyes flickered as reports poured in—three cities had been stabilized by the Supreme.
There were eight Law Bearers in the Lalrem Empire, yet only three could be contacted. The Principal of Evigheden Academy was not someone even a prince could command.
Each of the eight Law Bearers held a title.
Together, they were known as "The Eight Sagan."
The Emperor himself was one of them.
The reason the Lalrem Empire reigned supreme over the other kingdoms was simple—
The Eight Sagan.
At present, no other kingdom had more than five Law Bearers.
.....
Lord Borris looked up at the projection showing the three cities where the Evigheden students resided. His expression darkened.
The Three Supremes—three of the Eight Sagan—had intervened to assist those cities.
Then what about Ravine City?
A storm of curses exploded in Lord Borris's mind.
He understood all too well: because he was too competent, because he had prepared too well, his city was placed last for aid.
The hell do they mean by that?
Mana stones were burning en masse, villagers were suffering from black rain and storms, and he could no longer expend his own reserves to stabilize the wards. Just because he managed his city well didn't mean it wasn't suffering.
Of course he was excellent. He was a cautious man who always put his own safety first—and to ensure that, he always ensured his city's safety.
And this was his reward? To be ignored for doing his job too well?
Discrimination. That's what this is.
It was the fault of the other city lords for being unprepared—why should he bear their windfall? Parents always paid less attention to their most well-behaved child.
Borris swore to himself that he would not back down.
He would demand compensation—heavy compensation—once help finally arrived to deal with his city's storm.
...…
Enyo heaved a sigh of relief as aid arrived.
Finally, the damn storm was being dealt with.
Alaric, however, gazed silently at the Supreme Mage who had come to assist Varellia City.
As the sigils flared, the Law of Ruin negated the storm.
His eyes narrowed at the sheer display of power, the way a natural disaster was unraveled as easily as one might lift a hand.
This—he thought coldly—
This is what true strength brings.
Privilege belongs to the strong.
As that thought swirl his mind, his attention got distracted on the projection above when he try to look at how the other cities are faring.
A lone figure suddenly leapt up.
Wind bellowing her hair.
If the city barrier fell, she was doomed.
That was Yuna's first thought as she shot up through the rain, her wind element barely keeping her steady.
Her second thought was that she really wanted to cry.
"What can I even do?" she muttered, voice nearly drowned out by the howling storm. "I'm not even the protagonist here…"
But if she didn't do something—anything—her conscience wouldn't let her sleep at night. And if there was one thing she valued in this miserable fantasy world, it was her sleep.
The rain lashed against her face as she hovered above the city. Ravine's barrier flickered like a dying candle, its mana stones pulsing erratically. The air itself was trembling from the storm's fury.
"This is seriously annoying…"
As a non-main character without any cheat skills, Yuna had no miraculous plot armor to save her. She only had her brain, her overworked elemental circuits, and her bad luck. Because she was too busy worrying, she didn't even notice the arcane projections flickering over the other cities—where the Supremes had descended to help.
If she had seen that, she wouldn't be panicking this much.
With a frustrated exhale, Yuna spread her hands. The downpour responded instantly, bending to her will. Her Kasa Water, bearing the trait of Domination, surged upward to meet the rain head-on. And maybe some of the wild storm.
She need to somehow tame the storm.
Reckless? Absolutely. But sitting around waiting for the barrier to collapse wasn't an option.
The mana stones below screamed in protest, glowing feverishly as they tried to repel the wind's assault. Normally, they could've held off the black rain for months—but this storm wasn't something normal.
Yuna laughed weakly, rain streaming down her face. "Ahaha… I'm going to die doing weather control, huh?"
Her wind element wasn't even meant for this—it was a tool for flight, not for fighting natural disasters. The storm was alive, wild, untamed, and it snarled back as if mocking her every effort.
Yuna's lips trembled. She wanted to cry again.
"If only… if only some random treasure fell from the sky and saved me like it does for every other main character…" She sighed. "Reality's always disappointing."
'Named wind element.'
The voice or more like thought of the mutated moonlit orchid echoed calmly in her mind.
"Now? Really? You want me to name my wind element right now?" Yuna wanted to scream. "Will that even work?!"
No. She didn't have time to doubt it. It had to work.
Naming an element wasn't simple. It required understanding—real comprehension of what that element meant.
In her understanding of fire, fire spread and consumed; thus, its trait was Multiplication.
Water drowned everything like the ocean; its trait was Domination.
Then… what about wind?
Normally, she would've done proper research, run tests, made charts. But right now, she only had chaos, thunder, and existential dread.
Her hands trembled as she stared into the furious clouds.
'Fuck the wind, really'
Wind… air… it moves through everything. It's everywhere, unstoppable, free—
"That's it."
Her breath steadied. Her eyes, dark and glassy, hardened.
Future Yuna could yell at her all she wanted of her choice and thought right now. But present Yuna was busy trying not to die.
"Bami Wind!"
The words rang out, and in her palm, a small swirl of air took form—a delicate breeze shaped like a swallow. It chirped once, softly, before darting forward into the heart of the storm.
The storm roared, enormous and unyielding, but the little swallow didn't falter. It weaved through the vortexes, slipping past every raging current, and wherever it flew, the chaos followed—like threads tugged by invisible strings.
One by one, the vortexes unraveled. The storm's howls turned into whispers, its violence fading into drizzle.
And then… silence.
The Bami Wind dissolved, scattering into faint motes of light.
Yuna, still suspended midair, let out a weak laugh. "...Ha. It worked. Somehow."
Then gravity remembered she existed.
She tumbled, barely managing to summon a thread of wind to soften her fall. She landed on her knees, soaked, trembling, but alive.
Belatedly, she realized her elemental reserves were empty—completely hollowed out. Her vision blurred.
"Ugh… I'm never touching wind element again," she mumbled before collapsing, which is a lie because she is sure to check what really her freshly minted named wind element is.
Her patch up body from overuse, shut itself down to recover. The elements sustaining her body scrambled to absorb ambient element, desperate to keep her 'form' intact.
Because even as her consciousness slipped away, Yuna's stubborn wish lingered—
She still wanted to stay human or even a semblance of human.