Filler Episode 1 - The Match Beneath the Light
The courtyard of the guild buzzed with warmth. A modest celebration was underway-no banners, no big announcements. Just a laid-back gathering: sparring demos, shared meals, and light training games. The kind of day when even officers could breathe.
Wooden benches were set in a half circle near the training field. Mugs clinked. Laughter rose between clashing weapons and short cheers. The mood was light, almost festive.
Jinn stood off to the side, arms folded, watching. Detached but alert. Her braid was undone, glasses pocketed. She wore her plain officer's uniform, quiet and unnoticed.
Lavirra's voice broke through. "Officer Jinn. You're up."
Jinn blinked. "What?"
Lavirra tossed her cloak aside with a grin. "Let's show them what soft-spoken really means."
A ripple of excitement moved through the crowd. Bella gasped and leaned forward. Ven raised a brow, smirking.
Jinn gave a reluctant nod and stepped forward. Calm. No fuss. She picked up a practice staff and entered the circle drawn on the dirt.
Lavirra twirled her wooden blade once. She looked eager-electric.
"We go light," Lavirra said. "Unless you feel like making it interesting."
Jinn said nothing. She lowered her stance.
The crowd leaned in, some standing now. The background clatter quieted, the tension rising.
---
Lavirra lunged first-quick, clean strikes. Her wooden blade cut the air with confidence. Jinn moved fluidly, sidestepping without overextending. Her staff parried with minimal effort. Feet skidded. Wood cracked. The rhythm built fast.
Jinn never struck. She flowed. Every block and deflection used the least effort. Her footwork was measured, responsive-not flashy, but clean.
Lavirra advanced again. Her angle shifted. She dropped low, pivoting into a rising cut aimed for Jinn's ribs. Jinn tilted, twisted her upper body just enough for the strike to pass, and countered with a sweeping arc toward Lavirra's exposed side. Lavirra parried it, but her stance shifted.
The crowd hushed.
Clack. Clap. Thud.
Their weapons met in bursts, the sound sharp and satisfying. It wasn't magic. It wasn't light. It was timing. Edge meeting path. Staff against blade. The sharp hiss of controlled breath.
Lavirra narrowed her eyes. "You've trained before. Where?"
No answer.
Jinn pivoted. Staff reversed under her arm in a subtle hook-disarming Lavirra for a breath. Lavirra recovered, blade skimming dirt before her grip snapped back into place.
Again, Lavirra rushed-this time more contained. She tested Jinn's centerline, aiming for controlled pressure. Horizontal sweep, vertical drop, short stabbing feints.
Jinn adapted without overcommitting. Her staff circled, brushing each strike off-line. Every counter was compact. Her eyes stayed locked, calculating. Her movements were reactive-no waste.
There was no flash. Only focus.
The watching guild members said nothing now. Even the chatter from nearby matches had dulled.
Bella leaned forward, whispering, "This is real."
Ven nodded slowly. "That's not training. That's experience."
Lavirra smiled-not from arrogance, but satisfaction. She adjusted her grip, reversed her stance, and shifted left.
"Then let's go full rhythm," she whispered.
The fight continued. Balanced. Human. Perfect.
Filler Episode II: The Match Beneath the Light (Final Phase)
Lavirra's smirk sharpened as she reset her stance. Sweat dampened her collar, but her grin widened.
Lavirra (whispering): "Finally... someone who can actually fight."
She eyed Jinn-still, unshaken, not even a flicker of exhaustion. Her staff barely shifted between strikes, as if waiting for something.
Lavirra (grinning): "No. She's more than that. Let's see what happens when I push her."
She burst forward, blade raised-not randomly now, but deliberate, layered strikes in clean succession.
Skill One: "Break Line!"
The air cracked as Lavirra's blade ignited faint blue arcs. A slash meant to crush through any defense, built from the old Hero's frontline art.
It hit.
Jinn didn't move.
Her staff tilted a hair, deflected the blow like glass against a stream.
Lavirra pulled back, surprised-but laughing.
Skill Two: "Shatter Pulse!"
She vanished mid-step, blinking to Jinn's flank with a burst of footwork. The crowd gasped. The ground fractured beneath her second strike.
Jinn parried again. Fluid. No counter. No aggression.
Only focus. Cold, unreadable calm.
The ground around their feet had cracked. Lavirra's blade hummed from strain. She narrowed her eyes.
Lavirra (serious now): "Then I'll go all in."
She pivoted back, took a stance no one recognized.
Skill Three: "Legacy Void Slash!"
The entire field shifted.
Mana surged. Wind spiraled. Her sword glowed with old light-deep red and gold, like fire forged from stories. The audience backed away as the arena walls groaned under pressure.
A loud crack split the sky-
Manager (shouting from above): "Lavirra! STOP!!"
Too late.
The strike came.
A golden dome snapped into place mid-air-barrier magic, reacting to the threat. The entire arena boomed. Dust and pressure shook the crowd. The guild building trembled.
Manager (gritting his teeth): "Damn it... I can only hold the barrier. I'm sorry, Jinn... the only choice now is protecting the rest."
Silence. Then the smoke faded.
In the dead center-Jinn stood.
Still.
One hand raised.
She held Lavirra's blade-a reinforced wooden sword, imbued with old mana relics-now cracked in half.
Lavirra's pupils shrank.
Lavirra (inner voice): "Even an arc demon couldn't take that full strike. What... what is she...?"
Her sword crumbled.
Jinn raised the blade's jagged end toward Lavirra's throat. Not touching. Not threatening.
Just pointing.
The crowd was silent. Breath held.
Jinn's voice-finally-came.
Jinn: "...Wait. Did I win?"
Lavirra stared. Then blinked. Then laughed.
Lavirra: "Hfft... hahaha... You're really something."
A booming voice cut the air.
"LAVIRRAAAAAA!!"
The stage rattled again. People covered their ears.
Jinn (inner voice): "Was that... Roar of the Beast?"
Lavirra (nervous): "Uhm. Father. Haha. I didn't see you there."
Guild Manager: "LOOK at the mess you made! To my office! NOW!!"
Lavirra dragged her feet behind her red-faced father. The crowd finally exhaled.
Jinn looked down. Her hand-still faintly glowing.
She frowned and raised her glasses. Appraisal activated.
[Hand of God]
Jinn (thinking): "Tch. Must be a glass glitch."
She wiped the lens.
Her reflection shimmered.
[Genesis: God Of Creation]
The rest of the text shrank too small to read. Strange symbols. Words she didn't recognize.
Jinn stared for a while... then pocketed her glasses and walked off thinking the glass might read her past life username as developer.
Later, across the guild and even in town, whispers began:
> "The Iron Gate's been replaced." "That officer from the other branch... she's no gate." "She's the hell behind it."