ROWAN
Woooo!!!
My mind was in sheer amazement. The scene before me was nothing short of magical. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. The flowers seemed to hum, their petals swaying gently as if in rhythm with some unheard melody, while the glowing bambi grazed peacefully, their delicate bodies adorned in soft, shimmering patterns. About ten of them roamed, their presence enchanting and serene. Far off, at the edge of the meadow, stood a simple village. The villagers watched us with quiet curiosity.
"This is Log Horizon. It's part of the Royal Academy," Lang said, breaking the silence.
He sat beside Darialla, and although the two seemed distant, there was an odd closeness about them as well. She wore her usual white and shimmering blue hanfu, the fabric reflecting the light in delicate patterns, a fan gracefully held in her hand. Like always, her words were few, only speaking when spoken to, answering with minimal effort. Yet, her beauty was undeniable—stunning, even in her quiet demeanor.
We had departed after thirty minutes of back-and-forth arguments within the family. Her Majesty and her daughter had insisted on accompanying us, declaring that remaining at the Dragneel household was dreadfully boring. The Lord, however, stood firm, citing pressing duties that required his attention. In a bizarre twist, Roderan used his dragon speech, hypnotizing the women into compliance, and Royeel whisked them away. As for the Lord, well, that came down to a rather unexpected game of rock-paper-scissors.
Yes, it happened. They were utterly engrossed in the game, and the scene still replayed in my mind—it was ridiculous, yet somehow intense. Time and again, Roderan won, until finally, the Lord conceded, though not without insisting we take the Grand Chariot.
And what a chariot it was—comfort like none I had experienced. The space between us was ample enough to fit a marble table where tea brewed and three jars of fine wine rested. In front of Darialla lay her slender sword encased in a blue-flowered sheath, along with her small embroidered bag. The journey itself was smooth, the road beneath us a glowing, milky path that seemed to stretch out like stardust. Only the major roads in the immortal realm gleamed like this, and only a select few were allowed access to such routes. I had only passed two other chariots along the way, in the immortal realm, it was too rare to travel by road, for immortals usually warped to their destinations instantly.
But not today—today, we traveled by chariot. And that, of course, was all due to poor me.
Tara hands me a smooth, spongy ball while clutching a metallic box. Inside the box is a gift from the Lord—an egg. Not just any egg, but one of a Golden Phoenix, a creature of which I've only read. The egg resembles a golden orb, its surface glowing red intermittently.
"It's normal for it to glow like that," Lang remarks, noticing my fascination. "It means the egg is breathing well. You should know, my lady, that the egg will hatch once you infuse it with your spirit energy. After that…"
Crack!!!
The sound breaks through the room's silence, causing us all to start in surprise. Even Darialla gasps in confusion as the egg continues to crack. Gradually, a tiny head emerges, gazing up at me. The baby phoenix's feathers shimmer with a golden light as it continues to chip away at the shell. Its eyes lock onto mine, and it spreads its wings, emitting a series of loud, urgent chirps—as if calling out to me.
Wait a minute!
How am I able to understand it? It's not words that flow into my mind but a profound sensation and emotion that conveys its needs. I extend my hand, and the tiny creature hops into my palm, chirping as I draw it closer. Its dark eyes, filled with intense curiosity, examine me with a fervor that tugs at my heart.
"It's said that once your spirit energy assists in hatching, the phoenix naturally perceives you as its mother. But you lack any spirit energy. How did it even hatch?" Darialla's voice trembles with disbelief, her eyes wide as she stares at the small creature before us.
It just keeps on chipping away at the shell, a rhythmic sound that fills the silence. The moment its beak breaks through, we lock eyes, and I can feel something indescribable pass between us.
Lang steps forward cautiously, his gaze fixed on the tiny phoenix. "When it comes to phoenixes, especially one of the golden flame, there is little to no recorded information about them," he murmurs. The bird suddenly snarls a fierce, guttural sound. It spreads its tiny wings, though still damp from the shell, and wisps of smoke curl from its beak. Lang freezes, taking a step back, palms raised in surrender. "They are the highest and most powerful of all magical beasts, extremely rare and even more fiercely loyal. And you should remember one crucial thing," he adds, his voice growing serious as the bird hops onto my lap, curling into itself, seeking warmth. "The golden flame phoenix undergoes growth much faster than any other magical beast. Once you give it a name, it will begin to advance in strength."
"A name?" I whisper, staring down at the creature in awe as its molten gold feathers shimmer faintly under the light. The weight of the moment hangs between us. "A name can do that?"
"Yes, my lady," Lang affirms, his expression calm yet reverent. "Names are the most valuable thing for magical beasts. It's more than a title—it means they have a home, a bond that cannot be severed."
I look down, and its bright, intelligent eyes meet mine. They sparkle with something like expectation. It wants a name, I realize. It's waiting.
The tiny phoenix blinks, its gaze unwavering. Somehow, I can sense its thoughts—or at least its intentions. It's incredible. Could it understand me already?
My heart pounds in my chest as I consider the right name for her. *Her*. I don't know how I'm so certain, but I am. The golden shimmer of her feathers and the fire in her eyes tell me she's female—powerful, proud, and dazzling. Everything about her is radiant and wild, yet there's a softness to her as she presses against my lap.
A name begins to form in my mind, one that feels right. I murmur the word under my breath, feeling the power behind it. "Yàojīn," I say softly. "Dazzling gold."
In response, the phoenix chirps excitedly, leaping up and down in my lap in an attempt to fly. Her wings beat wildly, tiny sparks flickering in the air around her. She hops again, clearly delighted by the name, her energy bounding with joy.
"Yàojīn," I repeat, louder this time, a smile tugging at my lips. The connection between us deepens, something ancient and instinctual. Her loyalty is already cementing itself.
Tara chuckles beside me, watching the phoenix with amusement as she tries to pat her head. "Dazzling gold—it's a perfect name," she says, her voice light and warm.
Lang nods, his arms now crossed as he watches the scene unfold with approval. "Indeed, my lady," he agrees, his voice deep with respect. "It's a fitting name for such a rare and powerful creature."
"Wow, miss, look out!" Tara shouts as her hand grips my shoulder. I follow her gaze, my eyes widening in shock.
"What in the world is *that*?" I exclaim. In front of us stands an enormous, mirror-like structure, glowing as it shifts between colors—purple, red, blue, green, and yellow—before cycling back again. Behind it, a massive gate towers over the landscape, and beyond that, I can see well-built houses stretching out in neat rows, all crafted in the same classic design, extending up toward the base of a distant mountain.
"Welcome to Tayion City, commonly known as the Royal Academy," Lang replies smoothly, his voice calm amidst my awe. "This is the home of those who seek to become immortals, open to all races without bias."
My jaw drops. "That whole place… you mean the entire city is for cultivation and teaching?" I cry out in disbelief. The scale of it is overwhelming—it's as large as my kingdom back in the human realm, if not bigger. It's an entire city! My mind reels at the sight. "And that glowing thing… what is that?"
Lang chuckles, clearly used to seeing this reaction. "The Royal Academy is the largest city in Etral, and also the most populated. Every clan and race lives here. Apart from its reputation as a place for cultivation, people flock here because it's home to the second strongest immortal in the entire universe—the Headmaster of the Academy. You could say it's the safest place for many."
"Second strongest?" I ask, my curiosity piqued. "Then who's the first?"
"Well…" Lang hesitates, glancing at Darialla, who has been trying to coax the phoenix into her lap the entire time. The bird is hopping around her, chirping happily, clearly bonding with her despite her earlier hesitations.
Darialla grins, momentarily distracted by the phoenix's antics. "Once you become a disciple, you'll learn all about it," she says, brushing off my question with a teasing smile.
"She's right," Lang continues. "Nobody truly knows who holds the title of the strongest being. No one has ever dared challenge the Headmaster and lived to tell the tale. His power is… beyond comprehension."
The carriage comes to a halt as a group of guards clad in blue armor approach us.
"What's going on?" I ask, stepping down from the carriage. Just as my feet hit the ground, Darialla's voice rings out with a cheerful tone.
"Oh, I forgot to mention," she says with a grin. "You two will be participating in the exams to see if you'll be chosen by a master. The portal ahead will take you to your respective trials." She points to a glowing portal, and I notice several men and women walking toward it, their curious gazes fixed on us.
"Are you from the Dragneel clan?" a man asks as he approaches. He wears an elaborate golden hanfu, with rich golden patterns flowing across his shoulders. His presence radiates power. Immediately, Darialla and Lang bow in unison.
"We greet the Fifth Master," they say in perfect harmony.
I exchange a glance with Lang before hurriedly lowering myself to the ground to bow as well. But the man lets out a deep laugh, waving his hand dismissively.
"There's no need for that," he says, his voice a deep, smooth rumble. "I'm not like the others." He gestures for us to rise, then strides directly toward me with surprising speed. His eyes lock on mine. "So, you're the little bride?"
"The little what?" I blurt out, confused, my gaze darting to Lang for an explanation.
The man chuckles, clearly enjoying my confusion. "You're Roderan's fiancée. They've started referring to you as 'the little bride.'"
I stare back at him, noting the heavy smile spread across his youthful face. Despite his looks—he could easily be in his early thirties—there's no mistaking his power. Even with his cultivation restrained, I can sense he's far stronger than my uncle, perhaps even stronger than my father.
"If you'd like," he begins, his tone light, "I could take you as my disciple. And by—"
Before he can finish, Darialla steps forward, holding out a golden scroll with a sharp motion.
"If any of the masters try to remove her from the exams," Darialla says firmly, "I am under orders to hand them this. A message from my young master."
The Fifth Master hesitates, his eyes narrowing as he takes the scroll from her. He opens it, scanning the contents, and his expression darkens with a faint sneer as he shuts it with a snap.
"What a rude brat," he mutters under his breath, handing the scroll back to Darialla. He glances to the side, clearly irritated, before sighing. "Well, I suppose it can't be helped." He waves a hand, and two men in uniform step forward. "These two will escort you through the portal. The others will prepare your quarters."
I hesitate for a moment, unsure.
"I'll take care of it. We've grown together, haven't we, Yao Jin?" Darialla smiles, the phoenix now comfortably nestled on her shoulder. "You just need to relax and focus on the task ahead."
That's not the problem, though. I try to communicate my unease with a glance, but she doesn't catch on. Instead, I move forward, following the guards. I can already feel the frustration building inside me. More exams? Seriously? I thought I'd just show up and find a master, not go through this.
Grinding my teeth, anger simmers deep within me. I bet Roderan had something to do with this—probably slipped a word into that scroll. As we approach the portal, I walk ahead, Tara by my side. We both glance back. Lang gives us a warm smile and waves, but Darialla is too busy petting Yao Jin to notice. She's completely absorbed. Curses to her too.
Tara squeezes my hand as we step into the portal.
The moment we arrive, a refreshing breeze greets us, and we find ourselves in a lush garden. The grass is a vibrant green, and flowers of every color bloom around us. To one side, there's a dense forest, and all around are people—lots of people. Let's see... about thirty men and... forty-eight girls, all impeccably dressed.
Just then, a glowing screen appears before us.
"Welcome to this year's Royal Academy disciples assessments."