Sylvenmire Estate — Elsa's Bedroom
The moonlight filtered gently through elegant cathedral windows, glistening against the crystal chandeliers that swayed ever so slightly in the still air. Elsa Sylvenmire's room, though undeniably luxurious white marble floors, a golden vanity, velvet cushions and all was currently a warzone of clothes, gear, books, and open bottles of half-used elixirs.
In the middle of the chaos stood Elsa herself, now with shorter, slightly curled brown hair that brushed just the edge of her neck. The new cut exposed her soft neckline and made her green eyes appear even brighter but of course, her hair was still an absolute mess. Her pajamas were wrinkled, mismatched, and her feet were bare on the cold polished floor.
She suddenly leapt up from her bed, fist raised in excitement.
"YES! Finally! A real adventure!"
She twirled in place, eyes gleaming.
"I mean, it's only with one guy though... but still! A real dungeon! Just me and..."
She froze.
"…Wait. Only one guy...?"
She blinked. The thought began to blossom inside her mind.
"…Is this… a date?"
Her cheeks flared crimson.
"W-Wait no. No no no. It's not a date. It's a raid. An official dungeon raid. Right? Right…?"
She slapped her cheeks gently.
"Pull yourself together, Elsa."
Knock knock knock!
"Madam Elsa," came a calm, composed voice from the hallway. "It's Sarah. May I enter?"
Elsa's eyes went wide. She spun toward the disaster zone behind her and shrieked.
"Oh shit this place is a mess!"
She sprinted to the floor, grabbing a pile of dresses and tunics, tossing them into her wardrobe. Potions flew into drawers, half-eaten bread vanished under her bed, and she slapped a blanket over a stack of unwashed plates.
> "Uhh Y-Yeah! Come in!" she called out in a too-high voice.
The door opened with a regal creak. In stepped Sarah, her long silver-blonde hair tied into a perfect low bun, emerald green uniform ironed crisp. She looked no older than her mid-twenties but carried herself with the calm dignity of a royal butler.
Sarah gave the room a brief once-over.
"Hm. Moderately clean… by your standards."
She folded her arms.
"Your parents expect you to begin maintaining your space like a true Sylvenmire. I'm only here to oversee, not do it for you."
Elsa smiled awkwardly, inching toward the wardrobe.
"Right, right. I've been… improving!"
Sarah narrowed her eyes and walked directly toward the wardrobe.
Elsa bolted forward, arms wide.
"WAIT! You don't need to check that one—!"
Too late.
She opened the wardrobe and was promptly buried by an avalanche of clothing. Dresses, boots, scarves, belts, and a single bow clattered onto her.
Silence.
Sarah slowly rose from beneath the pile, her expression perfectly neutral.
Elsa, now nervously giggling
"Uhm… am I… in trouble?"
Sarah's eyebrow twitched.
"What do you think, Madam Elsa?"
Elsa bolted.
"AAHHHHHHHH!!"
Sarah chased her with practiced speed.
"Get back here and clean up your royal disaster!"
---
Meanwhile, at the Morvayne Bloodline Training Hall…
Elira Morvayne stood alone on a polished obsidian mat, her training suit slightly damp with sweat. Across from her, a humanoid combat bot red-eyed and enhanced with level-9 reaction runes charged at her with surgical precision.
She parried every strike with fluid, deadly grace. No weapon, just her hands swift, brutal, elegant. Her expression was still, her crimson eyes sharp.
BAM.
She spun into a kick that blew the bot's head off its neck. Smoke billowed.
---
At the Eldraven Mansion — Art Room
Jin Eldraven stood before a massive canvas. Oil paint streaked across it in black and vermilion violent but refined strokes, raw emotion in every flick.
He painted in silence, his sword leaning against the wall.
---
Elsewhere, in the Elarquist Library…
Cynthia Elarquist sat by a stained-glass window, legs crossed elegantly, a rare book open in her lap. The soft golden light kissed her pink hair, and her violet eyes scanned the pages with deep interest.
A cup of herbal tea steamed beside her.
---
In the Solaris castle…
Samuel and Samantha Solaris sparred, one using brute force and stone-enhanced punches, the other using grace and light magic-infused kicks. A clash of siblings, laughter in the air, pride in their strikes.
---
Back at Kael's House…
Kael Vernier sat on a plush sofa, a cup of strong black coffee in hand. The television was on, displaying world news and magical developments. His white hair caught the light of the screen as he leaned back, calm for the first time in a while.
He exhaled.
"Tomorrow, we raid."