[Estate Grounds – Morning Training Field]
When Alter and Lira stepped out of the Still World, the transition was seamless—but the change in sensation struck instantly. The Still World's dusky, eternal twilight was replaced by bright morning sun, crisp mountain air, and the distant rhythm of sparring metal and shouting voices.
The estate grounds were alive with motion.
Rows of adventurers trained in formations across the expansive courtyard: archers adjusting wind-calculated trajectories, tanks cycling their stances, mages locked in controlled spellcasting drills. The clang of weapons, the pulse of mana, the shout of orders—it was the heartbeat of a growing army.
Lira squinted at the sky, then glanced down at the sun's position.
"…It's still morning?" she whispered. "We spent weeks in there."
Alter nodded with a calm smile. "One day out here. You get used to it."
Lira shook her head slowly, eyes wide in disbelief. "That's going to mess with my sense of time forever."
He chuckled. "That's part of the danger—and the gift. But you handled it well."
They moved toward the training field where Kaela stood, commanding one of the sparring groups. She wore lightweight training gear—a fitted jacket over enchanted leather, her longbow resting across her back. Her golden-brown hair was tied back in a short braid, and her sharp eyes flicked over her trainees like a hawk gauging flight patterns.
She noticed them immediately.
Kaela broke off from her instruction and approached. "Back from the time abyss, I see."
Lira raised a brow. "You noticed?"
Kaela gestured to the sky. "Sun barely moved. You two vanished for hours. Either you slept in a dimension pocket or…"
Her gaze narrowed, then she smirked.
"…you were making very efficient use of time."
Lira flushed faintly but held her chin high. "Magic study. Creation theory. Maybe some practical testing."
Kaela rolled her eyes. "You mean—"
"Training," Alter cut in smoothly. "And crafting."
Kaela grinned. "Uh-huh."
Her tone softened as she glanced at the sparring teams behind her. "We're making progress. The vanguard squads are finally learning to coordinate between casters and frontline. Mages are syncing with archer suppressions. Even the ones who messed up in Thornveil are showing promise."
"Any standouts?" Alter asked.
Kaela nodded. "Four, maybe five. Not enough to call them elites, but they've got good instincts. A few are asking about mentorship roles."
"Good," Alter said. "I've been thinking about expanding command structure. Twelve commanders—class leaders. That way you and Lira don't have to shoulder it all."
Kaela whistled. "Twelve, huh? Planning to build an empire?"
Lira smiled. "Not an empire. A foundation."
Alter's gaze swept across the field, where adventurers pushed through drills in the morning light, sweat glinting like dew on their armor. Most of them had only seen a fraction of what awaited them out in the wilds—true dungeons, divine foes, world-shifting power.
But they were here.
And they were willing.
"Let's give them a reason to follow," he said quietly.
Kaela nodded, serious now. "Then we train harder. No weak links."
"I'll help with the next phase of instruction," Lira offered. "The magic side still needs discipline. And with the new spell I've been working on—"
"You'll inspire half the mages into early burnout," Kaela snorted. "Fine by me."
They stood in silence for a moment—just the three of them—watching the field, watching their team.
No longer just a party.
But a rising force.
A dawn forged in myth.
[Celestia – Mythral Dawn Estate, Day Four of Training]
The sun rose over the capital, casting soft golden rays across the wide training grounds behind the estate. Morning mist curled low against the earth, dispersing as the first of Mythral Dawn's members stepped into formation.
Alter and Lira emerged from the Still World, stepping out from a shimmering veil near the manor's inner sanctum. The light was already high in the sky.
Lira blinked, stunned again by the passage of time. "Four days… it's only been a few hours out here."
Alter gave her a quiet smile. "That's the Still World. One month inside, one day outside. We'll use it wisely."
Down below, Kaela stood at the center of the training field, clad in her newly forged equipment, sharp eyes scanning over the assembled team like a hawk. Her presence radiated strength and control, but as soon as she caught sight of the two descending the terrace stairs, her expression shifted slightly.
"You finally rejoined the living," Kaela called out, smirking.
Lira playfully elbowed Alter. "I told you we spent too long in there."
Alter's tone was light as he approached. "Only what was needed. The team's progress?"
Kaela's smirk faded into something more serious. "Better than I expected. Their coordination's improving. Some of them show promise—real promise. But… we're still too top-heavy. You, me, and Lira shouldn't be carrying the weight alone."
Alter nodded. "That's why we'll finish the selection today."
As if on cue, a procession of new figures stepped through the estate's grand gates.
Messengers from across the realm had already arrived over the past two days. But this latest group stood apart—elegant silhouettes with long, flowing robes and light armor. Cloaked elves from the borderlands. Beastkin warriors from the distant glades and volcanic plains. Their presence was quiet, yet commanding.
Lira turned to observe them, her eyes glowing faintly with curiosity. "Word traveled far."
"They came because they heard," Kaela said, crossing her arms. "About the Thornveil clear. About Alter."
One of the elves stepped forward and bowed with traditional reverence. "We come seeking truth… and strength. If you are the dawn that the world speaks of, let us prove ourselves in your shadow."
Alter studied them—assessing not just their posture, but their presence. The air around some of them shimmered with suppressed mana. A few carried weapons enchanted by ancient rituals. Others bore runes etched into their skin, signs of sacred pacts or old-world training.
Kaela leaned closer. "Some of them are strong, Alter. A few… might even rival the top five we already have."
"Good," Alter said softly. "We'll need more than strength. We need unity."
He turned toward the entire field—now over seventy members standing in rows. Humans, elves, beastkin, hybrids. Warriors, rogues, healers, conjurers. All watching him in reverent silence.
"Today," he said, his voice carrying across the courtyard, "you will fight. Not to impress me. Not for power or rank. But for something greater."
He stepped forward, drawing Astral Requiem and planting the blade into the training field with a deep thrum that resonated like a heartbeat.
"Twelve of you," he continued, "will become the foundation of this guild's future. My personal disciples. Commanders of your class and calling. If you believe you have what it takes to stand among them… prove it."
A pulse of energy erupted from the sword's hilt, marking the field with ethereal sigils—each one linked to a class category: vanguard, marksman, arcane, guardian, support, and more.
Lira raised her staff, Starwoven Grace, and began drawing radiant spell circles overhead to segment the arena.
Kaela stood at the marksman quadrant, arms crossed, her old Mythic-grade bow still slung across her back. She eyed the archers gathering with sharp scrutiny.
"No holding back," she said coolly, voice carrying across the field. "If you think just hitting your target is enough, turn around now. We're not training trophy hunters. We're building commanders."
Lira, standing nearby with Starwoven Grace in hand, leaned toward Alter. "She's going to push them hard."
"She should," Alter replied, his gaze momentarily shifting to Kaela. "She's next to receive her Artifacts. I want to see her break limits before I place that kind of power in her hands."
Alter turned to the new arrivals, and among them, a single figure stirred.
She wore silver-trimmed training armor fitted to her lithe form. Her long platinum hair was braided tightly down her back, and emerald eyes studied Alter not with awe… but focus.
A High Elf, quiet but composed. A sword at her hip, its design neither ornate nor crude. She had not moved when the others stepped forward. But now—now she did.
She stepped into the vanguard trial circle.
Kaela raised a brow. "She's got guts."
Lira glanced at Alter. "Do you feel that?"
Alter did. The resonance. Not magical—spiritual.
"She's different," he said softly.
And in that moment, a name echoed across the forgefire edge of his thoughts.
Selene.
She hadn't said a word. But the sword at her hip hummed faintly. Her steps were deliberate. Her aura, quiet yet composed.
Alter's eyes narrowed.
"Watch her," he told Lira and Kaela. "She might be the one."
The sun had dipped low behind the estate walls, casting a golden glow across the training courtyard where the day's final drills were winding down. Kaela stood alone at the far edge, the last rays of light catching her auburn hair as she adjusted the grip on her aging Mythic bow. Her form was steady, but her focus seemed distant—as if waiting for something she refused to ask for.
She didn't look up when she heard him approach.
"I see you're still using the old one," Alter said, his tone calm and teasing.
Kaela raised a brow. "It still works."
"It's been outclassed for a while now."
"Then maybe someone should've done something about it," she replied without heat, eyes glinting with challenge.
Alter didn't argue. Instead, he lifted his hand.
A ripple of starlight broke open the space beside him—his crafting dimension responding to his intent. From within, two glowing artifacts hovered forward, suspended in a delicate cradle of mana.
Kaela's breath hitched.
The first was unmistakable: a bow, yet more than any weapon she'd ever held. It bore the shape of an unfolding phoenix—crimson and gold wings forming its limbs, the energy-string humming softly with ever-burning flame. Every inch of it radiated life, like the spirit of a divine beast had been captured mid-flight.
[Artifact Created – Ashplume Reign]
Type: Phoenix-Bonded Bow
Traits:
– Passive: Generates mana arrows automatically
– Flame Echo Shot: Fires mirrored trajectory volleys
– Soulfeather Resonance: Redirects arrows mid-flight via thought
– World Effect: Enhanced damage against airborne or spellcasting targets
"I call it Ashplume Reign," Alter said, voice steady. "She'll fly wherever your will guides her."
Kaela stepped forward, fingers trembling as they brushed the Phoenix crest. The bow pulsed in recognition, attuning instantly to her aura. Heat danced along her arms, not burning—but warming, empowering.
"I—" she swallowed. "It's beautiful."
Then he revealed the second gift.
The light dimmed into a sharper hue as the gauntlets materialized—sleek, fingerless, forged from layered dragonhide over a dark Evercrystal core. They bristled with silent strength, faint kinetic arcs glowing between plates like the heartbeat of a sleeping predator. A subtle, low hum followed every motion, promising retaliation.
[Artifact Created – Iron Howl: Gauntlets of the Stray Vanguard]
Type: Defensive / Counter-Offense Gauntlets
Traits:
– Reactive Frame (Passive): Returns 30% of blocked force as counter-pulse (stacks up to 3x)
– Stray Vanguard's Fury (Active): Doubles Strength/Agility for 10 sec; attacks leave afterimages (CD: 2 minutes)
– Breaker Edge (World Anchor): Ignores one layer of magical defense/barriers per strike
"They're meant for the frontline," Alter said quietly. "For someone who charges into the fire without hesitation."
Kaela exhaled, gaze locked on the bracers like she'd found a lost piece of herself. She strapped them on slowly, reverently, feeling their weight settle like a second skin.
"Iron Howl," she whispered. "Now that sounds like me."
A whistle broke the moment.
Lira leaned lazily against a nearby pillar, arms crossed, golden hair catching the breeze. Her smile was sly. "So that's why you've been holed up all week. Flaming feathers and fistbreakers? Kaela's going to be intolerable now."
Kaela grinned, flexing her fingers. The gauntlets responded with a ripple of force.
"Jealous already, mage?"
"You wish."
"Maybe I'll start punching spells out of the air next."
"You punch one of my spells and I swear I'll hex your bed to catch fire."
Alter cleared his throat. "Please don't incinerate the estate."
Kaela slung the bow across her back with a graceful motion, then tested a swift punch forward. A shimmer trailed behind her knuckles—the gauntlets pulsing with promise.
"Alright," she said with a fierce smile. "I've got wings and claws now. Let's see who dares underestimate me next."
Lira raised a brow. "You always had claws. Now they're just… shinier."
Kaela smirked, then turned to Alter with a rare softness in her gaze.
"Thank you," she said. "For trusting me with these."
"You've earned more than that," Alter said. "But this is a start."
The sun had barely crested over the capital skyline when the gates of the estate rumbled open once more.
A caravan of adventurers—new recruits from the outer territories—marched forward in disciplined formations, their armor marked with regional guilds now absorbed into Mythral Dawn. Among them were elven rangers draped in forest-born cloaks, towering beastkin warriors with tribal tattoos, arcane monks from the eastern steppes, and even two twin sorceresses whose magic whispered through the air like lightning chasing silk.
The estate grounds, once spacious and serene, now buzzed with life—too much life.
Sparring matches erupted in corners of the training yard. Laughter and greetings echoed through the garden paths. Cooking fires were set in overflow tents. Mages created illusory boundaries just to control the swelling crowd.
Kaela leaned against a balcony, scanning the sea of new faces. "That's the third group this week. This place is turning into a fortress."
Lira stood beside her, expression thoughtful as her gaze swept the courtyard. "They're not just wandering in. Word's spreading. People know who Alter is now. They want to follow him."
Kaela tilted her head. "Well, they're going to be disappointed if they think he's the hand-holding type."
Down below, Alter stood at the center of the courtyard, arms crossed as he listened to the latest status report from the estate's steward.
"…including the new arrivals, sir, our roster now exceeds 130 active members."
Alter's gaze shifted across the gathering mass. The once quiet estate was now swarming—training fields packed, the secondary villa filled to the brim. Even the stables had been repurposed into bunkhouses for the overflow.
This wouldn't do.
He turned to Lira and Kaela as they approached.
"We're out of space," he said simply.
Kaela shrugged. "Told you we should've bought the whole block."
Lira offered a soft smile. "There's land available along the eastern ridge. Private. Defensible."
Alter nodded. "Then I'll secure it today. But we also need structure. Rank. Leadership."
He turned back toward the assembled adventurers, stepping onto the raised stone platform at the center of the courtyard.
With one step, the murmurs fell silent.
With two, all heads turned.
By the third, the very air seemed to hold its breath.
Alter's voice rang out—not shouted, but clear and commanding.
"This is the last expansion of this estate."
Murmurs rippled, uncertain.
"We are now over one hundred strong," he continued. "But strength without discipline is weakness. Mythral Dawn will not be a mob. It will be a spear."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"Starting today, we begin trials for the Twelve. The Twelve Commanders of Mythral Dawn. Each will represent a division by class or domain. They will lead, train, and act in my stead."
A quiet thrill passed through the crowd—mixed with tension and ambition.
Alter's gaze swept across them, golden mana glinting faintly in his eyes.
"Only twelve will be chosen. They will reside here—at the central estate—alongside myself, Lira, and Kaela. All others will be housed in the new wings and outposts we're establishing."
Kaela stepped forward beside him, arms folded. "Commanders are expected to surpass. Not just in power, but in clarity. Tactics. Loyalty. If you want to impress me, don't show off—lead."
Lira smiled faintly. "And if you want to impress me… don't die during the trial."
A few chuckles broke the tension.
Alter raised a hand, and silence returned.
"The trials begin tomorrow at dawn."
A final echo pulsed from his words—an unspoken force that resonated with the mana of the estate itself. Even the wind seemed to bend around him.
Across the courtyard, the hopefuls stiffened—some gripping their weapons, others clenching their fists with determination.
And somewhere in the back of the crowd, an elven girl with silver-blonde hair and calm, golden eyes observed in silence—watching the man who would one day teach her to bend the heavens with her blade.