A broken blade rattled as aura coursed through its enchanted metal. A wave of pure crimson flew forward to meet an iron wall. It held firm, the wave crashing uselessly once again. This time however, the gates swung against its attacker.

  The broken blade screeched as it slid across Larix’s arm. Sparks flying out from the blade, completely unable to cut through. Ryan had finally run his aura dry.

  Gamielle clapped her hands, satisfied by the result.

  “Okay that should be enough.”

  The adventurer collapsed to the ground, dead tired from the sparring. He stared at the sky covered by a magical dome. His right arm was practically damaged beyond repair. An amputation followed by a regeneration portion was the easiest solution at this point.

  In Gamielle’s opinion, it was the perfect place to rebuild.

  “Are you ready, Ryan?”

  "Always.” He panted.

  She changed her own visual sight, looking deeper, past her physical and metaphysical selves until she came across her true form. A golden line interwoven with layers and layers of other intricate lines. She was in the center of this great tapestry of interconnected paths, the representation of a skill unlike any other.

  A Legend. Supposedly more grand than anything anyone could imagine.

  The truth was, in the end Gamielle was just a thread of mental energy. A desperate skill created by a mother that refused to let go. Gamielle tugged on the thread, sending reverberations through the interwoven web.

  A simple message carried out in hundreds of directions.

  Gamielle metaphysically rolled her eyes. Of course knew to be close by. Someone else responded, one that hadn’t agreed to help until now.

  It was tiring work, Gamielle had been a true [Prodigious Mage] before she died, yet this skill was beyond anything she could truly handle. The problem was that the skill wasn’t traditional magecraft. No, this was a true Witch’s skill, a horrible, horrible Legend waiting for you at the end of [Emotional Resonance]. Possibly the worst skill of them all.

  Worse than even Indigo’s.

  Gamielle opened her eyes and stared at Ryan who had stopped to stare. His expression was priceless. He’d gotten somewhat acceptable at energy control and could see the surface of what she was doing.

  She smirked.

  A grand tapestry of mental energy shot into the sky. Mana and qi weaving towards it in impossible harmony. Something only for the Witch that had spent countless hours studying form of energy. Her mother had the original scrolls of Lu Baizhen, the cultivator that came with Sector Eleven. She shared notes with the Archmage Tyrant himself. Both having peered into spell circles that maintained The Realm itself.

  But that was what a Legend was. They went the bounds of reality. The Trial System dutifully helped to stabilize the skill and a terrible Legend had been created.

  The threads Gamielle wanted returned with a reply. Most were a resounding yes, eager to see the student that Gamielle apparently talked too much about.

  .

  There was nothing she could do about that now. Gamielle pulled the threads until they started manifesting in the air around them. Even ordinary humans would be able to see it now. Ryan’s and Larix’s faces were awed at the display of a fraction of the Legend.

  A moment like this needed an introduction. She spoke airily.

  “”

  She pulled the manifested threads from the air, straining against the skill, against the Legend. Gamielle could control it because was the skill itself. The core. The Witch’s Daughter. The Legend would accept no less. Even her mother didn’t dare fully utilize this skill without her help.

  Gamielle continued.

  “They all think that the Tyrants are above them because most of them have a Legend and they do not. That is true.”

  The courtyard lit up like a beacon, the enchantments on the ceiling of the obsidian sect began to rattle as it tried to contain the reality bending ripples of a Legend. The enchantments held, but only because Gamielle wasn’t pushing the skill to its fullest. She pulled the threads together, enclosing them in her hands. Her hands clasped like it was in a prayer.

  This was indeed was a holy moment.

  “What they don’t realize is that the Witch Tyrant is the only one with two Legends.”

  Her voice shook with the strain of a Legend, turning into a reverberating echo. The Legend echoing out into the whole sect.

  

  Ryan wasn’t sure what to expect when a Legend activated in his face, . Even in his wildest dreams, he hadn’t expected that. The idea of an unparalleled Legend of illusions had already unnerved him. It had him racking his brains on figuring out her exact limits.

  This Legend explained all of the inconsistencies he’d noticed, the gaps that Ryan was trying to fill in his knowledge. Though it did not make his job any easier. The already impossible wall he was scaling had just doubled in size. The mountain had become taller, and the well had become deeper.

  The Legend’s name seared in his mind without the help of the Trial System. Now, the only thing he could see, hear or even think about was the skill itself.

  Great branching threads of gold shot into the air above them, the tendrils warping and piercing the skies, disappearing into the void. It was like a giant twisting tree of gold that originated from Gamielle’s enclosed palms.

  Larix kneeled. The sect leader couldn’t bow his head, he was the same as Ryan. Completely transfixed and unable to look away.

  The branches began to shake, vibrating the very air around it. Ryan began to wonder if a Legend manifestation was about to occur, those great concentric folds in the sky when people activated their Legends in full.

  But they didn’t, Gamielle was keeping the skill contained, or at least that’s what Ryan had first thought.

  Gamielle was wrestling with the skill, struggling to keep her hands together. Her arms shook with the effort. She gritted her teeth as blood started to trickle down from her nose.

  She didn’t need to wrestle with the threads for too much longer. A bulging pulse came back from one of the great branches in the air. At the top of the branch, a golden figure of light appeared, floating towards the ground.

  A man… a man with a shoulder strapped custom keyboard piano.

  The [Bard] gave Ryan a wink.

  “[Righteous Rhythm]”

  The [Bard] started playing a melody, one that invigorated the soul. The sounds were not of a piano, but of drums, drums and percussion. Ozyell, the one man keyboard [Bard].

  The buffing melody invigorated the soul and made Gamielle’s arms stop shaking. She gave a nod in thanks to the [Bard].

  Another light appeared, faster this time. An orc Ryan didn’t recognize, towered over Gamielle and put his hand above hers. He swept all of the threads in one massive palm and shook the golden threads himself.

  “[Hurry The Fuck Up].”

  Ryan had never heard of that skill before. Even to him, it seemed absolutely sacrilegious at this moment. The skill made the branches shake harder as Gamielle’s eyes went wide and her arms shook harder than before. She bared her teeth in anger at the orc. He just snorted at her, contemptuous at her lack of strength.

  That only lasted until his own hand started shaking. Then the orc’s eyes grew wide as his hands started unraveling.

  He hurried to put both hands around the threads.

  The orc cleared his throat in embarrassment.

  “[Chieftain’s Call: Rally To Me], [Comrades In Arms].”

  The threads all seemed to react at the same time, it pulled in the orbs of light as they exploded into vision and fell from the skies. Motes of golden light drifted from the sky as the Ozyell the [Bard] turned into a complete one man orchestra. His fingers blurred on the keyboard piano, switching modes and playing all the instruments, all at once.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “[Grand Entrance].”

  Then the Fallen appeared, past and dead. First dozens, then hundreds. All wearing different equipment. Not all of them were adventurers either. There were famous Realmers who had achieved some level of power. Those that The Realm had once called Archmages and had been lost to war and realm expansions.

  Some appeared with a laugh, hugging each other or Gamielle. Many of them glared at someone else and stepped away from each other. There was even a dog with a wagging tail, looking up at a stern elven [Beast Tamer] with a look of adoration.

  Ryan’s heart dropped as he recognized so many of them. Then looked at the [Bard] playing his heart out. Ozyell wasn’t supposed to be dead, he’d been playing at a concert last month. But if they were all like Gamielle…

  He wanted to throw up for each adventurer that was supposed to be alive. All these powerful and talented people. Far beyond him. They had all died along the way.

  Gamielle finally let go of the threads and let out a sigh of relief. She punched the orc’s shoulder as hard as she could. A blow that would have pulverized Ryan’s head. The orc was completely unmoved.

  “You impatient asshole, you made that way harder than it should’ve been.”

  The orc didn’t say anything, he put his own burnt hands behind his back and turned to look at Ryan. Actually, most of the Fallen were staring at him, evaluating him and making him uncomfortable. The combined stare of hundreds of high realm adventurers was a presence in itself and made him almost step back. .

  Ryan tried to flare his aura until he remembered that he’d drained it all, and all of these people were too strong to even give even a kindling towards his aura. Damn.

  Someone laughed. An elf with a flat mowhawk stepped up.

  “So this brat’s the famous Artigan? He doesn't seem like much, Gammy.”

  Ryan’s eye twitched, his mouth moved before his brain, recognizing what was familiar banter.

  “Well I don’t recognize you despite your terrible hairstyle, so you really can’t be much.”

  There was laughter from the crowd of the Fallen. The elf with the mohawk looked embarrassed, then pissed off. He appeared in front of Ryan in a flash, grabbing him by his robes and pulling him in the air.

  “Name’s Rodstead you little punk. Look me up ‘fore I kick your stupid ass.”

  What generation was this elf even from? Ryan sneered.

  “Picking on an adventurer a quarter of your realm? Why don’t you at least wait until I’m classed up instead of punching down a .”

  There was an “ooo” from quite a few members of the crowd.

  Yep, there were quite a few modern adventurers in the crowd too. They were absolutely enjoying stirring shit from the background. Rodstead realized he was losing his standing amongst the Fallen and threw Ryan onto the ground. The elf pointed at his own chest with a thumb.

  “Alright punk, we’ll fight when you hit the ninth realm, my realm. We’ll make it a fucking show.”

  Well, that wasn’t good. Ryan was hoping with the speed the elf so casually displayed that the dude was at least a dragonslayer.

  Still, it wasn’t like he was going to back down from a challenge.

  “Sure. Loser pays ten million?”

  The punk elf looked at him like he’d said the weirdest thing in the world

  “Money? We bet relics. Ten million? You poor or somethin?”

  “Well it’s all I have, but sure, if I have a relic then I’ll bet it when I get there.”

  The elf snorted and blurred his way back into the crowd. Either way, Ryan’s point had been made. Less people were looking at him like he was a disappointment. Most still did, but that was to be expected, Ryan really was just a third realm after all.

  Gamielle just shook her head while Ozyell laughed. The [Bard] tapped on his keyboard piano in delight. Ozyell walked up to Ryan and clapped him on his shoulder.

  “A fantastic duel, a challenge accepted. Another story to be told.”

  Ryan froze as his attention was brought back to the [Bard]. Not a [Bard] but [Bard], Ozyell. He was famous for pioneering the entire class. When Ozyell had first started he had been ostracized for taking such a useless class. That was, until the [Bard] had shown how useful his buffs truly were. Ryan was both starstruck and horrified at the realization.

  So of course he said the dumbest thing he could.

  “I can’t believe you’re dead.”

  Ryan decided he would punch himself later. It had truly been awhile since he was so shaken up that he put his foot in his mouth. Thankfully, Ozyell didn’t miss a beat, the charming [Bard] laughed joyously and led the conversation.

  “Ah but music is eternal, my adventurous friend. , I heard you liked my composition on the Artigan videos. I must say I did put in a heroic tone along with the savagery, and I’m glad I did. I’d like to finish that composition with the real you. Come on, sit with me while they organize all the boring stuff. I heard you wanted a theme song! Oh! An elf after my own heart!”

  The [Bard] was dragging him away from the crowd. Not using more strength than a mortal but Ryan was still processing the words in his head.

  Was… was Ozyell flirting with him? Ryan had heard that [Bard] was a notorious bisexual flirt, but his brain short-circuited at the idea of Ozyell trying to drag him off in front of an entire crowd.

  “S-sorry I don’t swing that–”

  A spectral hand bonked the [Bard] on the head.

  The sudden hostile action snapped him out of it. Then he shook his head trying to figure out if he’d been ensorcelled. He quickly checked his [Rebellious] title. Nope, this was just deft social engineering by the [Bard]. Trying to drag an innocent Ryan away while he was still shellshocked by all the revelations.

  Gamielle had her hands on her hips, glaring at the [Bard].

  “Ozyell, behave or I’ll replace you with Monica.”

  The [Bard] looked mortified. A similar expression that Ryan realized he was wearing himself.

  “No! She’s but a second rate storyteller. Monica may be a [Maestra] but she’s too selfish, this is a tale, Gamielle! Artigan needs a proper progression. A four part composition that builds up with his mmmm mmm!-”

  Gamielle snapped her fingers and Ozyelle's mouth shut closed.

  Ryan shook his head at the display, then turned back to gawk at the people that were staring at him. . Many of them had fallen off from public interest, or were thought to have retired. It would have shaken the world to know the truth.

  All of the Fallen stood there, staring at him. All of these people were summoned from the dead to help him.

  Gamielle turned to address the crowd.

  “Alright, you all know the plan. Make your teams and get into position. Tap your thread when you're ready. I’ll tap back as the signal to attack. Once you’re done tap back. Then again once you’re safe.”

  They started getting into groups. The teams were already predetermined as adventurers shuffled together, clasping arms or nodding at each other.

  Ryan nudged the half floating [Mage].

  “Attacking? Gamielle what’s going on?”

  “Shush, I’ll explain afterwards,” then she turned back to the crowd, “If any of you has a message for Artigan here, say it now.”

  Her saying Artigan meant that these people didn’t know he wasn’t actually a silver haired elf. Ryan straightened up as the crowd of Fallen went back to evaluating him. He wasn’t so sure why he was so nervous, it was just a couple hundred high realm adventurers. That was all. Most of them hesitated, not sure which one of them should even go up first.

  The [Hurry The Fuck Up] orc barreled his way forward. This orc’s presence felt like a dragonslayer, but so had Rodstead. The orc knelt so that he was at eye level with Ryan. Being on the same height level made the orc more threatening.

  “Don’t go seeking trouble with the Witch Tyrant. You would not want to fight me.”

  Ryan opened his mouth. Before he could speak, Gamielle whispered into his ear.

  Ryan cleared his throat, “What trouble could I possibly make for the Witch Tyrant? I’m just a third realm.”

  The orc’s head went closer to his, until he could feel the orc’s breath. It was taking all of Ryan’s willpower to resist saying something to offend him. A part of him was starting to wish more people would underestimate him and not the other way around.

  A woman stepped forward to save him, her heels clacking on the ground. Her armor had cloth interwoven between the platejoints. White and black, almost suitlike in some areas. Ryan recognized her, . A dragonslayer in the eleventh realm, She wasn’t just a [Dragonslayer Spellblade], she was a true high ranker. Or rather, she had been.

  Finding out that she was actually dead made him feel like shit. It was one less powerful good person in the world.

  The [Magelancer] tapped the orc on the shoulder with her lance and gave him a deathly glare. The orc scoffed and stood back up, turning on the [Magelancer]. He towered over the much more regular sized woman. Gamielle appeared next to Cinnabon and did a shooing motion to the orc.

  “Okay, you said your piece. Now it’s her turn.”

  The orc snorted but still complied. [The Magelancer Extraordinaire] gave the orc a faint smile.

  “The dead shouldn’t impose their will on the living,” Cinnabon then turned to Ryan, “Live your life Artigan. Just remember your dues.”

  Suddenly the [Magelancer] loomed over him, her presence all-encompassing as it swallowed the world. A shimmering lance of silver hovered over him. Ready to drop on his head. Ryan knew it was a spell construct, but everything told him it was real, and that if she decided to drop it on his head, he’d be dead.

  “I’ll be watching.”

  When he looked back down, the [Magelancer] was gone.

  Someone laughed as they made his way up to him. A human adventurer came up to him as he looked behind at where the [Magelancer] was now loitering.

  “Showoff!”

  The man gave Ryan a big smile, his arms spread like he was expecting a hug. The man’s footsteps faltered when he saw Ryan’s lack of recognition.

  “You don’t recognize me? Gamielle told me you’re a huge fan of adventurers, I’m one of THE original adventurers. Ferreton of the Missile Boys. Huh?!”

  Ryan blinked, he hadn’t ever heard of Missile Boys or of Ferreton before. A voice called out.

  “Oi Ferret. Nobody knew your class before we got wiped. We kept it quiet cause we though it was stupid.”

  Ferreton dismissed the commentary with a disappointed wave of his hand.

  “Alright, screw it.”

  The man appeared by Ryan’s side in a flash. Ferreton gave one of his shoulders a squeeze.

  “Artigan, I need you to spread the word that Ferreton of the Missile Boys was the original [Great Adventurer] alright? I always knew being an [Adventurer] was the right way forward. Gamielle tells me you get me. ”

  “Can’t you do it yourself?” Ryan asked.

  “We have rules,” Ferreton gave Gamielle a dirty look, “Well some of us have rules. We can’t influence the living too much.”

  Ryan frowned, “Isn’t telling me to spread your message influencing the living?”

  Ferreton gave him a stiff smile, then he put Ryan in a headlock.

  “Now listen here. You get a bit of privilege, nobody’s gonna stop you from typing some stuff out on the internet about me that people can fact check. If I don’t hear about me on the internet, you’ll be hearing about me in The Realm, got it?”

  “Okay, okay. ”

  Ryan was decidedly not going to write anything about Ferreton on the internet. How stupid would it be to dig up someone retired from decades ago and start fanposting about them? Even Seffara’s stuff didn’t make global news these days.

  Believing that Ryan would comply, Ferreton let him go and walked back to his team. Ryan rubbed his throat as he looked at the rest of the adventurers.

  He was decidedly much less excited about meeting the rest of them.

  Although all of those interactions had made him more comfortable with these people. Dead they may be, they were still adventurers. Ryan was familiar with how to deal with them.

  “Okay, I think that’s three death threats and one duel.”

  Over fifty adventurers started stepping forwards. Ryan turned to Gamielle. She also recognized the problem and clapped her hands.

  “Alright, how many of you are going to give Artigan thinly veiled threats or demands? Step back now. He’s not going to back down, and you’re going to get annoyed.”

  Over half of them stopped themselves and stepped back. Gamielle glared at the rest, and more started stepping back.

  –

  The teams split off one at a time, all heading towards different directions. Most flew high into the sky. Then powered their way to their targets. Only Ozyell, Gamielle and Larix remained with him.

  Ryan just watched in awe.

  “I don’t understand, why do we need a group of people that could annihilate every country on Earth?”

  It really put into perspective just how much the Witch Tyrant had kept hidden all this time. If the Witch Tyrant learned that Legend, there would be nothing stopping her from sweeping the entirety of Earth. Hell, if every single one of them actually followed orders, it might make the Witch the strongest Tyrant of them all.

  Ryan just had no idea why a force like that was needed to help him with his arm.

  Gamielle had a wistful look. “The core of your Epic has a passive that’s constantly getting fed by the perception of you in the same dimension. This includes videos of you. The videos I set up, the ones that are constantly getting views. We’re going to remove that and give everyone in The Realm something else to focus on.”

  “? How does that make sense?”

  “We’re going to attack The Realm and take down the realmnet. Then you’re going to fully drain your passive and relocate the core of the passive into your arm. Then comes the hard part, the thing you’ve been training for. You’re going to try to exceed the perfection of the Trial System itself.”

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