Sergie, absolutely triggered by the receptionist's mocking tone, exploded with goofy anger. "What do you mean I learned? What did I even learn!?"
The receptionist smirked, unfazed. "You can see all my attacks. You've memorized my pattern."
Sergie's eyes widened, disbelief washing over his face. "Why the hell would you tell your enemy that? Even if I'm just some exam taker, you're helping me beat you!"
The receptionist shrugged casually, twirling her staff before pointing it at him. "Because I can do this." Her voice dropped as she chanted, "Ignis!" Flames erupted from her staff, igniting the training grounds in a blaze of fire magic.
But Sergie was ready this time. He had seen the angle of her strike, predicted her moves. With a swift motion, his wooden sword sailed through the air, narrowly missing her neck. In his momentum, he swung with full force—and in a blink, the blade collided.
The receptionist's head rolled clean off her shoulders.
Sergie froze. His heart dropped to his stomach. "Oh shit... I... I killed her," he muttered, backing away, disbelief creeping in. His eyes were locked on the lifeless body of the receptionist, her head lying still on the ground.
He took slow, trembling steps toward her. Closer and closer, his breath shallow, until he was standing over the corpse, his mind spinning. What do I do? He leaned down.
Suddenly, the head snapped up. "BOO!"
"OH SHIT!" Sergie screamed, stumbling back. His heart pounded in his chest, eyes wide as he stared at the seemingly revived receptionist. "You—what the—are you alive!?"
The receptionist laughed, dusting herself off as if nothing had happened. "Mud people don't die, you know. We can be sealed, but we only really die when we lose the will to live. My Arcane represents willpower and resilience. So no, I'm not dead."
Sergie exhaled, hands on his knees. "Good to know," he muttered, trying to regain composure.
The receptionist extinguished the remaining flames with a quick chant, and they made their way back to the reception desk. Without ceremony, she handed Sergie a small badge. "Rank A," she announced, offering him a sly grin.
Sergie blinked, surprise evident. "A rank? Just like that?"
"Just like that," she echoed. "By the way, my name's Mara."
Sergie grinned. "Oh, what a nice name—"
Before he could finish, Dante strode up to the desk, his dark, imposing presence cutting through the atmosphere. "I'll take the orc mission," he stated, his tone leaving no room for debate. The mission was one that required either ten A-rank adventurers or one S-rank.
Mara's demeanor shifted. "Prince of Darkness, huh?" she said, acknowledging his rank. "It's yours."
Sergie, still coming down from his adrenaline rush, turned to Dante. "Wait, we're going on this mission? To hunt orcs?"
Dante's cold eyes didn't waver. "First, we need equipment."
They walked into a high-end armory, and to Sergie's confusion, Dante picked out a set of noble attire, fine silks adorned with elaborate designs. Sergie's brow furrowed as he eyed the elegant clothing. "Fancy stuff for hunting orcs, don't you think?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I thought we were fighting, not attending a ball."
Dante's smirk was sharp as a blade. "We're attending the Mud Princess's party."
Sergie's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what? Royalty? Oh wow, how exciting," he drawled sarcastically. "You a fan of royalty or something?"
Dante's expression remained cold. "Doesn't matter to me."
Sergie sighed. "I don't hate royalty, but back where I'm from, the idea of a royal party was unheard of. Our governments were either evil or dead—there's literally no in-between."
Dante's eyes narrowed. "Where the hell are you from?"
"The past," Sergie answered nonchalantly.
Dante's eyes flickered with something deeper, a shadow of an old memory, as he turned to Sergie. "If you're from the past, you must remember the Blue Light War," he said with sarcasm, though his words carried an undercurrent of seriousness.
Sergie scowled. "Shut up, Dante."
But Dante wasn't joking anymore. His voice took on a darker, more somber tone. "You seriously don't know? The Blue Light War... it wasn't just a skirmish or some forgotten conflict."
Sergie narrowed his eyes, a flicker of curiosity rising. "No, I don't. What was it?"
Dante paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "It was the event that erased the era of technology. The world used to be a place of advanced machines, great cities of metal and glass. We had technology that could do anything—transportation, healing, control of the elements, even extensions of human life. Then, one day, this light appeared in the sky."
"Blue light?" Sergie asked, now fully engaged.
"Yeah, a light that stretched across the world, like some god's hand reaching down from the heavens. No one knew what it was. It hit the earth, spread across continents, and within days, everything—every piece of tech—was fried. The systems that ran the world? Dead. But it wasn't just tech that was lost."
Dante's voice grew quieter, more haunted. "Seven and a half billion people died. In less than a year. Entire populations were wiped out, whole nations vanished. The collapse was total. And the thing is, most people today don't even know it happened. The history of it has been buried or forgotten, like it was a nightmare no one wants to remember."
Sergie stared at him, stunned. "Seven and a half billion?"
Dante nodded. "Most of the deaths weren't even from the Blue Light itself. When tech failed, chaos took over. Disease spread. Wars broke out over food, clean water, and resources. It wasn't a war of guns or weapons—those didn't work anymore. It was survival, and most people didn't make it."
"Why hasn't anyone talked about this?" Sergie asked, bewildered.
"Because we moved on. Arcane power took over. Magic replaced machines, and those who controlled the Arcane rebuilt the world in their image. It's been long enough that most people don't even realize what was lost. Some still see remnants of the old world—ruins, old tech—but it's all dead, lifeless. The Arcane is all that matters now."
Dante's eyes were distant as he continued. "I was ten years old when it happened. I remember watching cities crumble, people desperate to survive. My family… they didn't make it. We had everything once, but the Blue Light reduced it all to nothing."
Sergie swallowed hard. "That's insane."
Dante's expression hardened. "It's the truth. The world was reset. And those with Arcane power took control, rebuilt things the way they wanted. We live in the shadow of that war, whether people realize it or not."
Sergie stood there for a moment, the weight of the revelation sinking in. "So… the world just started over?"
Dante nodded. "Yeah. We went from an age of tech back to relying on the Arcane, just like the ancient days. Those of us who lived through it… we remember what was lost. But the world we have now? It's built on the ashes of that war. And most people have no idea."
Sergie shook his head, trying to process it all. "That's... heavy."
After finishing the tale of the Blue Light War, Dante fell silent for a moment, then suddenly stepped closer to Sergie, eyes narrowing. "But you know what really happened during the Blue Light War, right?" he said, voice low. "Seven and a half billion people. Gone. Just like that. And most people don't even realize it."
Sergie blinked, taken aback. "Seven and a half billion? No one's ever mentioned numbers like that."
Dante grinned, his sharp gaze locked on Sergie. "Of course not. Because the world doesn't want to remember. Technology was destroyed. Knowledge, cities, history itself—wiped out overnight. People think we live in the past now, but the truth? The Blue Light War brought us here. It set everything back to zero."
Sergie frowned, struggling to absorb the weight of what Dante was saying. "How did no one know about this war? How could something like that happen, and no one remembers?"
Dante smirked, walking ahead a few steps, then spinning back around. "Because history isn't written by the survivors, Sergie. It's written by those who want to forget." His voice was almost a whisper, filled with mystery. "People needed to forget, or they wouldn't be able to live in the ashes."
Just as Sergie was trying to comprehend the scope of the destruction Dante was describing, Dante leaned closer, his voice conspiratorial. "Oh, and the funniest part? I made all of that up."
Sergie's expression twisted with frustration. "What?! You just spent five minutes dumping that on me, and now you say it's fake?"
Dante shrugged, his smirk not fading. "Yeah, I came up with that in about ten seconds. Sounds good though, right? A nice little history lesson."
Sergie was clearly annoyed now, about to snap back, but Dante continued, his grin widening. "But what if it was real?" He paused, watching Sergie carefully. "What if that's exactly what happened, and no one wants to remember because it's too much?"
Sergie glared at him, trying to figure out if Dante was still joking or if there was some truth in his words. "You've got a messed-up sense of humor."
Dante chuckled. "Oh, I know." In his mind, though, he thought Maybe one day you'll find out just how much truth there is in every lie. But not today. You're not ready.
Dante's expression shifted back to the present, his gaze sharpening. "Now, let's go. We've got orcs to hunt—and a Mud Princess to meet."
As they approached the entrance, the weight of Dante's story lingered between them, a reminder of the forgotten devastation that shaped their world.
They reached the gates to the Mud Princess's estate, and Sergie rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. But before he could retort, the guards at the entrance stepped aside, bowing low as they were allowed inside.
The party was about to begin.