seorang manusia dengan kemampuan khusus dan grimore pertama yang menjadikan makhluk terkuat di seluruh dunia namun di jebak oleh para penghianat dan iblis menggunakan sihir transfer terlarang mengirimnya ke dunia yang berbeda. dengan kekuatannya apakah dia mampu kembali kedunianya

Are we really alone in the universe? 
Only a train of sand in the vastness of possibility, an unlikely love between a human girl and the prince of another word... Raimu

This will be the last upload for a while ... 
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When Sophia awoke, she was first shocked. After, when she realized what happened, she thanked Dyon profusely, swearing to pay him back in any way she could.
Dyon only laughed and waved it off. He didn't save her for the credit. Plus, he got a valued experience out of saving her life. When he became a genius of runic vein theory in the future, she would definitely be among those he thanked in his mind.
As for the three disciples Arthurian injured, Dyon simply gave them pills. The valley was closing soon, so despite their injuries being less severe, he didn't have to time to heal them personally. It was a good thing none of them knew much about alchemy and pills, or else they would have been shocked by the level the pill reached.
It wasn't long before the group of six began walking toward the edge of the outer valley. They all knew that there was a large elephant in the room that they weren't speaking of, but there was nothing they could do about Violet's deathly silence. It seemed as though she had not even breathed in the last few days.
Giving Dyon a meaningful look, Sophia and the three disciples walked off ahead, slightly disappearing into the fog.
Dyon couldn't help but cringe when he saw this. Did they really think he was her boyfriend? Dammit.
'If I try to avoid this, they'll think I'm insensitive.' In the end, he could only grit his teeth and walk beside Violet. Although he didn't particularly care about what others thought of him, he had his own moral line to follow as well. He couldn't leave a woman who had just gone through something like this alone, despite him not having a good initial impression of her.
After almost another hour of complete silence, Violet suddenly spoke. Her voice was clear and firm, once again, as though nothing had happened.
"How did you manage to escape the Grandmaster?"
Dyon smiled weirdly, but still answered. "Our month-long contract was up a while ago."
"Oh? I'm surprised she kept her word." Violet muttered absentmindedly.
Dyon could only silently chuckle. It was true that in those sorts of situations, it would be more likely for the sun to rise in the west than for a woman of Clara's caliber to let something go so easily. But, Clara was his wife, no matter how abrasive she is, she wouldn't make things too difficult for him.
After another long silence, Violet couldn't help but break it again.
"Are you going to make me say it?"
Noticing the odd tone in her voice, Dyon frowned in confusion. "Say what?"
"You asked me what I thought about you when you stopped me from killing those three. Do you really need a woman to ask you for an explanation? Shouldn't you be active and provide it for yourself?"
"Uh…" Dyon's words became stuck in his throat. In any other situation, he would draw a clean line between them no matter how her feelings were hurt. But, he almost didn't have the heart to do so just two days removed from those events. The process of 'letting someone down easy' wasn't so easy at all in this situation. Dyon felt like whoever came up with the saying should suffer punishment for being so misleading.
Seeing Dyon unable to answer, Violet pressed. "I didn't kill them because of your word. Is it that your word means nothing?"
Her voice cracked, a flurry of bottled emotions overflowing. "I get it. You don't want a woman who's been tainted like me. Who would want a wife seen so casually by another? Am I worth nothing now?"
The complex emotions in Dyon's eyes lit. That wasn't it at all! He wanted to roar. But, no matter how he tried to frame it in his head, nothing came out right.
With his speed of thought, he must have thought through thousands of possible responses in that moment, yet none seemed to fit.
Dyon knew in his heart that Violet's plight wasn't the reason he didn't want her. If the words she was saying came from Ava's mouth instead of her own, Dyon wouldn't hesitate to take Ava in arms.
The difference was clear. Violet was only seen naked, while Ava, although she fell unconscious, was legitimately anally raped. It wasn't to belittle what Violet had gone through, but it was to prove that Dyon wasn't judging her based on merely being seen by another man considering he was willing to accept Ava despite far worse being done to her.
He just didn't have those kinds of feelings for Violet. And although his relationship with Ava wasn't romantic either, she had a place and pedestal in his heart Violet didn't.
Maybe the largest difference between the two was that Ava would never try to leverage her situation or entrap Dyon on moral standings like Violet was doing now. This made the irony of it all that this very situation would never occur between him and Ava. In fact, if Dyon knew Ava at all, even if she did grow feelings for him, she would rather die than tell him about it for fear that he would only accept her feelings out of pity.
When Dyon reached this conclusion, his heart steeled.
"Violet, I'm sorry. I can't accept your feelings."
Dyon didn't turn to see Violet's face fall or her devastated reaction. Or, more accurately, he couldn't. Because the moment his words sounded out, the valley trembled and their nearly three-month adventure came to an end.

編輯

The chapters of this novel are currently being deleted. 

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With a hotel rooftop as our edge, he pulled away, breaking the kiss, and with the moon as our lamplight, rested his forehead against mine.

He moved away, after a few minutes, and a wind gently blew through me.

Ed looked out to the moon again. Still holding my hand, but over time it loosened, fingers relaxing, becoming the smallest of bits further away from the back of my palm. And then our palms separated from one another, like he was finally ungluing himself from me. 

I

I didn't know what to think of it. 

I lifted my head up from his shoulder, asking if there was something wrong. Or at least I wanted to; I almost did, before I saw his face. How low he hung his head, and it threw me back into a moment when we'd first started traveling. Stepping out into a hotel living room, seeing him at the kitchen sink with one hand on the edge and his eyes hidden from me. 

His eyes were hidden now, like they had been then. Like they were when he spoke with Winry. 

I didn't know what to think of it. 

I finally asked him, or at least I tried to. I got some word out, some small moment of a line never finished. Because he just turned away from me, hiding his face further. 

"I... Need you to go," he told me.

What?

This question must have slipped out; some part of me must have said something, echoed something from a brain rattling with recycled thoughts. I must have made another noise, because his hand slipped from mine. I wanted to reach out, follow his movements, but I just watched that stature rise. He stood, and he spoke again. Repeating it. 

"I need you to go," and he didn't say my name this time, like the word itself was acidic, staining and eating away at each letter, every syllable. 

I started speaking again, tried to make some selfish statement. But only the first syllable got out, and it was a word I knew all too well.

"I..."

I tried again, helplessly watching him turn his back to me, hunch a little. Displaying that flamel insignia against the moonlight, like a beacon for my inevitable suffering.

I had always been in pain, this was just a new level.

A new adventure for both of us.

He straightened, head turning up to the sky. And he spoke again, voice stretched slightly, like he wanted to get the rough sadness out of his words.

"You can't keep coming with us," he said. As if it made all the sense in the world.

With his face towards the moon, with tears brimming his eyes, he spoke, telling me what I feared most. What I had been thinking all along; a reflection of my own civil war, my own inner crossfires.

"J...Just let me in," I pleaded, tears brimming my eyes. "I can take the weight—I can take on—"

Ed just shook his head, and with his eyes closed to the moonlight, he spoke once more. 

"I was scared about that, in the beginning. Let you in enough, more than anyone. Deep enough for you to really leave a scar when you left."

I... I had to be dreaming. This has to be another nightmare. It had to.

I stayed still, stayed standing, waiting to wake up, and then, finally, with his heart as the lead, he spoke again. Powering my own self-destruction. 

"I know now that's just a bunch of wishful thinking. That every person I come in contact will just end up getting hurt, in more pain then they had been when I arrived. So that's why it's best we leave things as they are now. Fold our cards before we end up busting and losing everything."

He was using card analogies?! He was comparing... Whatever we were to a CARD GAME? I wanted to get angry, yell at him or do something other than cry. But I couldn't. I couldn't even open my mouth wide enough to speak. All I could do was fucking stand there, knees shaking and legs barely holding me upright. I wanted to fall, hit the ground hard and be back on that hospital rooftop again. Alone this time, without him there. Because I kept throwing myself back to that moment, and it's the beginning of the hell I deserved. It's the only thing that would begin to suffice my punishment, my next sentence. 

How much pain had I caused him? How much did I deserve this time? A life sentence? Two? 

He bowed forward just a little bit, his hunched figure blurred and half-silhouetted in my vision. "I..." He was trying to speak, but I just heard how rough his voice was. How it seemed as broken as I felt.

"I..." A click sounded, then another one. His hand coming into a fist, secured away inside his coat pocket. Like always. Another thing he was hiding away from me. Another thing I didn't deserve to see. 

"I can't tell you how much you mean to me," he said, and I nearly collapsed, hearing my name with those words. "I... I keep trying to. I keep looking for some way, some word or moment or drawing that captures you in a way that makes sense to me, but I can't. I can't explain that feeling. I just know it's going to hurt both of us"—He turned away even further. His hand clicked again, and distantly through my own fucked up brain of pure useless noise I heard how his arm shook a little. Trembling before it stabilized quietly. He was so much better at putting himself back together. He could actually do it. I was just a sorry excuse; a forgery of a broken piece of art. He took in a breath, a small one that he quietly let out through his mouth before speaking, continuing on. Picking up where he left off. "And I know I can't let any of it happen. That I need to close our road before it gets any longer, and I need to make that inevitability an impossibility."

"But... You and Al... We were searching, traveling..."

"It's not..." He paused again, and I felt the silence dig into my chest. Carving a deeper emptiness, one that broke down further like a sinkhole when he spoke again, nearly rendering me absolutely, purely useless. "It's not the journey that's the problem. Or, at least, it's not the main issue. Even if we had bumped into each other some other way, in some other reality, the result would be the same."

How did he know?! I wanted to SCREAM at him, shout it with whatever pathetic excuse for power I had. I wanted to tell him he DIDN'T have to do this, but I was caught up in my will to actually fight. The idea that I actually could do anything to slow down what I knew was right. He was right. I wasn't good enough.

"I'm sorry," I wanted to say.

These words were at the back of my lips, buzzing against my mouth and my tongue and everything that still tasted of him. I wanted to apologize, to use every breath I had left in this worthless life to say how sorry I was. And even then, it wouldn't cover it. I didn't deserve to speak, to fill that air with my disgusting god forsaken sound. Not even the vibrations would do anything but make things worse. Carnage, making bodies that didn't deserve anything but pain and darkness and the absence of everything they would never have. It was a cycle, that agony. That emptiness. And I was simply destined to live my life repeating all of it.

"I keep hurting people," he said. "Good people, like Al; innocent ones, like Winry..."

I did what I could; I moved, rendering my physical body useful in a way. I reached out, and without looking to me, he reached as well. The ungloved metal hand fitting into the spaces of mine.

The fingers in between the spaces of mine curled, like they were trying to somehow hold on. "There isn't a word to describe you," he told me, and I felt myself break when he spoke my name again, "I... I keep trying. I keep trying to find something that envelops every part of your existence, your meaning to me, whether it's in a word or a sketch. I can't." His fingers curled like they were slowly trying to grasp something, slipping away from the spaces of mine. "I can't do it; I can't hurt you like that."

"Just let me in," my voice was incredibly weak; less powerful than a squeak of a mouse.

He shook his head. "No. We can't keep taking you with us," My name fell from his lips again, and I felt that wall... The one that prevented me from really hearing it... I felt that protection crack a little more. 

I listened instead to the only thing I could hear. His words. What he just told me. But it was a line I had been given before, when I woke up in the hospital after Dublith. 

"We can't keep taking you with us. You have to stay here."

"Y-you were going to leave me there," I began, feeling my throat shake as I opened my eyes. Forcing myself to keep staring at him. Watch as he looked away, foot sliding back again. Turning him to a partial profile, half illuminated by the moonlight. Partially covered in darkness. I forced myself to keep speaking, producing a mess of sobs that thankfully translated into actual words. "You were going to leave, and you changed your mind..."

I wanted him to do the same, right now. Just look over at me and give that big grin, tell me to get that look off my face. Because this was some kind of test; because there was no way—no way—I actually believed he would ever do something like this. I had to know that there was no way that this could ever be real.

But he never looked over at me. He kept his stare down, on the street far below us. Wind gently breezing through; a sweeping air that picked up at the very end, giving a small gust against his hair, a light snap of his coat ends. That sound struck a pain right into my being. Just reminding me of how he had turned away from Winry... 

He spoke again, finally answering me.

"I wanted to keep traveling with you, and Al..." he said softly. "I..." He looked to me just a little bit, head turning a little closer, a little more in my direction. But eyes remaining low, searching the edge between us like he might find the words he wanted to say written in the concrete. With a swallow, he stepped back again, completing the step his foot was positioned to take, and his eyes closed again. 

"I... Felt something with you. Something I hadn't felt in a really, really long time." 

I waited, watching as he grinned just a tad, almost making the expression sarcastic. "I keep calling it my light side, but most of the time I think I just feel a warmth." His smile spread into a grin, and he laughed just a little bit. "You're that warmth," he told me, and I choked back another sob, muting it in my throat. "You're that light," and the sound my name nearly made me crack completely.

I slapped a hand to my mouth, curling my fingers until the nails dug into my skin. Leaving streaks of red on white.

"Please," I sputtered. "Please stop..." Stop saying my name. Stop... 

Ed just closed his eyes, hand curling at his side, and the silence spoke so loud. Calling my name all over again. That name broke me all over again. I forced myself to hear it, to take in every sound and syllable. Repeat it back to myself in my mind, ingraining the sound and engraving the pain it had been the cause of for such a long time. 

Mirah.

It was that mirror I could never look into. And now Ed was forcing me to stare back at myself with just a single word. 

I stayed standing, giving my legs the remaining amount of energy I had. I was on the brink of collapsing completely. Holding my hand to my mouth, teeth between one finger because it was all I could do to not collapse on the ground in a mess of agony.

"It... It doesn't have to be this way"—My hand raised to my hair, getting tangled in stressed out strands—"I know—"

"No..." He shook his head, and took another step back. Putting more distance between us. "That's another reason. This is way too dangerous. I've been so fucking selfish with letting you travel with us."

"If something were to happen to you"—Glossiness suddenly came to his eyes, and he tried to smile through, his voice shaking—"I don't know what I'd do. I don't know what I would be," I felt my chest cave in, hearing my name again. More tears welled up in his eyes, and his smile faltered, whispering, "Where I would be."

I wanted to take his pain away, do something to get that grin back on his face. That brilliant smile that would laugh for a moment and tell me to cheer up, to not worry because things would be okay. I wanted him to smile again, and I didn't care the reason why. I just wanted him to be happy. 

And that's why I needed to leave. So he could. So we could both finally part— go our separate ways and just leave. Better off if we did. For both of us. For everyone. 

Winry flashed into my consciousness, and it hurt. Seeing her again. Sobbing like that, desperately trying to hold herself together, one arm wrapped around her waist, one hand holding her side like there was a stab wound inside her; parting the flesh, leaving the blade to twist.

I blinked more tears into existence, feeling my hand shake, wanting to raise to my hair and cover my mouth at the same time, shaking somewhere in between; feeling my lungs want to implode and my heart want to break. I wanted it to happen. All I could think of is that I wanted the pain to go away. He just stood there. Head down, eyes hidden. And I barely caught sight of the light flashing down, hitting the ground between his boots. 

My own eyes closed, trying to hide away in that darkness where I belonged. But I couldn't stop the sobs from bursting out of my throat. And I couldn't stop the rough wheezing sound made when I tried to pull those sobs back in. Like I could rewind time and make all this go away. Make it so I never found that stupid watch and we would both be nothing but distant memories to each other. I didn't even deserve that much. I didn't deserve to take up space in that brain of his. 

I nearly crumbled, I nearly fell to my knees but something kept my upright. My foot stepped out, scarred calf keeping me standing. Some part of me was trying to hold on. Or maybe I just knew I needed to go. I was wasting their time. Still being here. I needed to leave. Needed to go. 

And Ed didn't stop me. He didn't say a word, didn't make a move, and I have no memories of stumbling down the stairs, miraculously making my way down without getting hurt. But it would be a good start. A broken leg, a forearm snapped in two. A good landmark for my most recent and worst fuck-up. 

I didn't realize Al had stopped me until I noticed I was no longer moving. His arm was stretched out, partially curled around me. I didn't feel the metal, not at first. But then the sting of the coldness gradually buzzed against my skin, and I almost broke completely. I tried to take in enough air, feeling my lungs hyperventilate and my mind begin to slip even further away from me. I heard Al's voice, alarmed and panicked and worried for something he shouldn't be worried about. There was everything else in the world to spend his energy on. 

His arm shook a little, trying to get my focus. And it worked for a moment; his voice rang out even louder, piercing through everything I now had exposed. Everything that was no longer covered by walls. 

"Mirah!"

My knees shook. They buckled for a moment, legs stabilized once again by someone so much stronger than me. I could feel his other hand at my back, trying for a thicker support. I just heaved with loud breaths and monstrous sobs. 

"What happened?" Al was pressing me, and the concern forced my eyes to shut. Trying to bring myself anywhere but here. "Why are you crying?"

It took everything in my power not to let out a moan; something that I was sure would turn into another broken, skittered sob. Another breath I was using. Air I was stealing. Space I was taking up. 

I found some type of "strength", something that made me shake my head and respond to Al's question. Speak in a voice I didn't recognize. Something that was weak and small and everything I truly was. And I told him how Ed wanted me to leave, that it was best that I left. 

I felt Al's arm lower just an inch; a side effect from the shock he was feeling, probably. But I still felt my hands trembling, fingertips flinching against the surface of his arm. Torturing myself with the coldness. 

"Why... Would Brother say something like that?"

I didn't know. I didn't know but I knew I had to leave. It was best that I did. They didn't have to keep dragging me anywhere. Lose the weight. Lose the baggage. Make their lives better. Easier. More manageable. It was so long overdue, so I had to leave now.

And that's what I did.

Yet, the unbreakable will of the Cang Jiang Military Force had highly surpassed Raphael's expectation. The fight had lasted for 3 hours and it could be considered as an extremely long lasting fight for the card artisans.
There were only 300 men left in the Cang Jiang Military Force. However, their fighting spirit was admirably tenacious.
Sang Hanshui's face went gloomy as the Wooden Word Camp had lost over 80 men ever since the war had started. Furthermore, the amount of casualties was over 150. Anyhow, the Wooden Word Camp had acquired the upper hand during the fight all the time. However, judging by the situation, the difference in combat powers between both teams was obvious.
The equipments owned by Cang Jiang Military Force were above the average within the Heavenly Federation. Even regular card artisan's equipment were built with 4 stars cards. However, in comparison to Wooden Word Camp, the equipment that Cang Jiang Military Force had were rather inferior. Before acquiring the Computation Box, Chen Mu's 3 stars numbered series card was already enough to be on par with the 4 stars cards. After getting through the optimization by the Computation Box, those cards had become even stronger in overall performance.
The cards' power had greatly increased. Higher shooting rate and less energy consumption and they had even achieved lower energy fluctuation…
However, the current Wooden Word Camp was like a child with a knife. Although they were equipped with the best weapons in the world, but unfortunately, they were unable to perform its best. As for Cang Jiang Military Force, they did not use 5 stars cards quite often but instead, they were using those regular 4 stars cards most of the time. However, their combat capabilities were extraordinary, especially the insane tenacity shown by Sang Hanshui, which allowed him to be highly respected by evevryone.
It was terrifying to know that the Cang Jiang Military Force could still manage to hold their ground with 300 men left after losing over 3,000 of them throughout the fight!
If both parties were to fight with one another face to face, Sang Hanshui could assure that his team would definitely lose the fight. Generally speaking, they were just mercenary soldiers. It would be difficult to expect loyalty from them unless they were granted with their own territories which would allow them to bring their families to live together. Only so, the mercenary soldiers would remain loyal. 
However, it was not the right time to think about it and it was not his concern after all.
For now, his only concern was to end the fight as soon as possible.
He looked at Raphael and started hesitating in his mind on whether he should arrange the team 1 into the battle. Team 1 was the strongest among the five in both combat power and equipment levels. Hence, he was not willing to place them into the battle. Raphael was following the boss all the way from Tai-shu family to where they were now. Therefore, none of them would doubt her loyalty.
Raphael had realized that Sang Hanshui was staring at him. The horrible impression and the beaten experience left by those fighters in the minds of all these card artisans from Tai-shu family were unforgettable .
"Sir. Let us join the fight!" Raphael asked. Card artisans in team 1 who stood beside her were feeling the urge to fight. It was a torture for them to watch the battle which had reached the climax but could not do anything at the side.
Sang Hanshui did not speak a word.
Back in the operation vehicle, Chen Mu Was looking at everything happening in the frontline. He was brainstorming while observing the situation in the battlefield. For him, he would still have a lot of things to learn. He had never been through any proper systematic learning progress before and instead, he learnt it all by himself. What he could recall was what Bogner had told him to do.
However, the reality proved that " practice makes perfect". Without any help from Bogner and Jiang Liang, he could only count on himself. Although there were plenty of obstacles during the process, but eventually he still managed to build the Wooden Word Camp.
He observed the image displayed carefully from the Spinulosa Disk as he quickly did some maths in his mind.
From his perspective, Sang Hanshui obviously was not flexible enough. Chen Mu strategized several ideas that which would be able to destroy the enemy but Sang Hanshui had turned the battle into a prolonged state. However, Chen Mu did not stop him. Since he had given the Sang Hanshui the authority to take control of the battle, he would not interfere. He was a fighter without a solid foundation but what about Sang Hanshui and Xiaobo? They were not provided a solid foundation too.
All of us required time and experience to grow.
Other than them, the Wooden Word Camp soldiers were also lack of foundation. This battle had greatly impacted them. He had realized that the soldiers would learn from the enemy and their chemistry between one another had improved. They started to cover each other with their instincts and experience. These soldiers was slowly forcing themselves in adapting to the tough battle. Such improvement could be seen from the decreased casualties rate as compared to the previous fight.
"Struggles develop strong and undefeatable fighting spirit." The tougher the fight, the greater the fighting spirit of a team would become!
By witnessing the fallen of his card artisans, Chen Mu suddenly realized how calm he was. A quote popped out in his mind, "One who is lenient will never fit to lead an army! When have I become so cold-blooded?"
He sighed and laughed sarcastically himself before turning his focus back to the battle once again.
Chen Mu had finally realized the changes in himself. He used to chill most of the time when Bogner, Jiang Liang, and Xi Ping were still by his side as he would never have to worry about anything. He would only have to focus on his research. Unfortunately, once he left Bogner and others, he had to manage everything on his own and this had changed his personality and his attitude in doing stuff.
On certain levels, he could be considered as a leader.
The level 7 card artisans who stood beside Chen Mu were surprised. They were impressed by everything they saw on the screen.They were following Chen Mu's orders most of the time just because they were afraid of the White Commander. Honestly, they were disappointed because even though the White Commander had managed to achieve level 7, his perception power was weaker than anyone of them.
They would not be convinced that easily in the world that admired power and strength.
Most of the people would not pay any attention to these arrogant level 7 card artisans from Wooden Word Camp.
 However, they had witnessed with their bare eyes on the fate of Cang Jiang Military Force, which was the First Army of the Underworld, had suffered from total annihilation by Wooden Word Camp!
The Wooden Word Camp's combat capability was far beyond everyone's expectation!
Nothing was more persuasive than power! Those level 7 card artisans had finally decided to pay their respects to this young man in mask, who had built such supreme army all by himself !
Whatever Chen Mu had found out, Sang Hanshui who was present at the battle must have sensed too. Sang Hanshui was definitely much stone-hearted in comparison to Chen Mu. Xiaobo would share the same trait too. A true card artisan would have struggled to survive, while the lenient ones would have died long ago.
He did realize the changes in his soldiers. Sang Hanshui declined Raphael's battle invitation without any hesitation.
He had a simple concept. Card artisans were supposed to fight with their lives at the frontline. Human lives would be valued the most in this crucial world! Among all the people in Wooden Word Camp, he did not care about anyone but his boss.
For now, the Wooden Word Camp had lost over 150 card artisans! Furthermore, there were 300 wounded card artisans too! 
This was definitely the most disastrous record they had ever since the Wooden Word Camp was established. 
Yet, their efforts did not go to waste.The Wooden Word Camp soldiers were experienced card artisans. They had managed to obtain the rhythm and chemistry through this battle. They had fought in a more skillful and experienced way as he cooperation between each of them went better.
"Damn it! They used us as a stepping stone!" Cang Jiang Military Force had only 2 captains left in the battle. One of them spoke with a gloomy face. As compared to the Wooden Word Camp's inexperienced leadership, the captains from Cang Jiang Military Force were experienced in fights and they were pioneers. Hence, it was definitely a shame for Cang Jiang Military Force to become someone else's stepping stone.
Another captain spoke in a serious tone, "Alright. We can't continue this way anymore. I'll stall them while you go and bring the other half of the troop to breakthrough the battlefield."
The captain shouted in madness, "What do you mean by that? If we were to die,we shall die together!"
The other captain was calm as shook his head and said, "We have to deliver this news to Cang Lan. This way, we get to atone for our mistakes of losing the fight, so that our families could get a better compensation!"
"Shall we deliver the message to the other 3 families?" The captain remained silence before he said the words. The option of staying alive was a temptation that he could not refuse as everyone was afraid to die.
"Definitely not!" The captain quickly stopped him. "Our Cang Jiang Military Force had been completely defeated. If the 3 families were in a good state, then our North Facing District might be ended up as a servant to them. Hmph! How could we allow this to happen? You try your best to make your way out, and stay in the woods. Do not take the way you came to avoid from the 3 teams. They'll definitely go head to head with the Wooden Word Camp and they will soon realize who benefits them most."
He went silent for a moment before answering the question. " Please take good care of my family."
"Alright!" This captain nodded solemnly with his eyes soaked in tears.
They both were decisive men. Therefore, they both split their paths decisively afterwards and immediately started to make the formation adjustment.
Sang Hanshui had noticed the changes in the enemy's movement. He whispered the instruction to Raphael, who was standing beside him. Raphael nodded and started falling back with team 1 quietly.
Sang Hanshui's assumption was right. 5 minutes later, the enemy had greatly strengthen up their firepower to an intensive level!
Although they had made an early preparation for this attack, several card artisans of Wooden Word Camp were injured in a blink of an eye. However, the well-prepared Wooden Word Camp card artisans had launched a counter attack in response, causing way more deaths and casualties on the enemy's site.
All of a sudden, over 100 card artisans turned back and started to charge out from the battlefield! They were like a bunch of rats running towards all directions.
They did not activate the energy shield instead, they were doing all those dodging moves continuously, as if the Cang Jiang Military Force Camp went exploded.
A partial of the card artisans went straight for Sang Hanshui!
Within a short period of time, the leader of those card artisans had managed to slay 3 of the Wooden Word Camp's card artisans without any mercy. He then took a glance at Sang Hanshui with his sharp eyes before tearing another card artisan apart right in front of him. He might have been using a 5 stars card, which could allow him to control the Seven-sided circular lightsaber the way he wanted. This lightsaber was extremely sharp and powerful that it could easily slice a man into half. 
Level 7 card artisan!
Sang Hanshui grunted. He was pissed when the enemy tried to provoke him. He stared at the enemy ferociously and said,''Are you trying to kill yourself?"
Oncethe Wooden Word Camp's card artisans knew that Sang Hanshui intended to have a solo battle with the enemy's leader, they got excited and moved aside immediately just to make space for the fight.
As for normal days, the Wooden Word Camp's card artisans were suppressed by the hit man. Their rules were strict and therefore, none of them would dare to cross the line. The hit man was well-known for his insane attitude but whether or not he was a good fighter, none of them could ever knew. It was Sang Hanshui's first time in achieving level 7 which tend to make all of them curious about his true strength.


This is both a work of science fiction and an exploration of the meaning of life, love, literature and art. Brainpower is no longer the main ingredient for being human in this far distant future world.  Spirituality, physical balance, and diligence all come together as integrity for Chen Mu, the Card Apprentice.  The cards which Chen Mu masters in his own scrappy way, distill all the powers of the cosmos –  human and nonhuman –  into something that is not a book, not technology, and neither art nor magic, but is these and more.  Learn about these strange cards, which can embody everything you might imagine for the future of technology, but also a future beyond technology which promotes the best, and sometimes the worst, from mankind’s past.

It's been two months since Harmony, the first Virtual Reality Massively Multiplayer Online yadda yadda yadda has been launched. Since then it accumulated more than 400 million users and it was still booming evermore. Experts estimate at least another billion players will join the game within the next half a year. 
Yet despite that fact…
"Couldn't care less."
That's the response Higashi Murasaki held. He scoffed at all the praises the game received, considering them ridiculous and sometimes plain absurd. He believed the topic would disappear from everyone's memory once enough time had passed, like those other games which became international sensations for maybe half a year or so.
"Sheesh. Downer as always eh, Mura?"
A youth beside him spoke with lips curved upwards. Though those words might have sounded like complaints, the smile on his face told a different tale. This was the best friend Murasaki had within school grounds, which translates to his best friend in general since he had no life outside of school. Mura was a loner through and through, which was another reason he detested MMOs that encouraged party play.
"Bitch about it to someone else, Shindou."
"But then they'll actually enjoy the topic..."
Sometimes he wondered why he was friends with Shindou Arata in the first place.
Then he would remember this stubborn git of a classmate would pester his every living moment at school and then some, asking to become friends with him. 
Mura would thus sigh in helplessness. This series of instances occurred a few times every week.
"Ah well, it's about time we head home anyway. Let's go!"
The excitable git spoke the last line in English for whatever reason. Their homes were close to one another so oftentimes either of the two would encounter the other during their way to school. The return trip, however, was another matter entirely.
"You go on first. I have things to take care of."
"Again? You siscon."
Mura exhaled another mouthful of air as his gracious response. Time and time again he tried to convince Shindou he was no deviant of such nature. Yet as one might expect, this git seemed to be selectively mute to Mura's words and had permanently labeled him with the title. It only served to exacerbate Mura's already infamous reputation within school grounds. 
One might argue that being infamous was better than being ignored but he will have to disagree.
Normal was best for him.
"Well then, see ya next week!"
The friend gave him a mock-salute before leaving the classroom. Though Mura's reputation in school had never been worse thanks to that youth, there didn't seem to be any ill-will behind the undermining action. Shindou was just an idiot who couldn't seem to understand the result of referring to someone with the word 'Siscon' in a loud voice, within a classroom full of other students.
Because you know, that requires way too much brainpower from his side.
Basically, Shindou is dumb.
Not malevolent, but dumb.
There's a small difference.
The clock ticked. Mura merely sat idle on his seat. No word, no movement, no nothing. He was leaning on the table, arms just folded over it for support. There was nothing to do. He was merely waiting for time to pass.
And pass it did. Time waits for none, it continues moving forward for all of eternity. Soon enough Mura snatched his school bag and walked away, leaving the room bereft of people. It would stay that way until next weekday.
His legs carried him to the front gates of this whole 'place of learning', whatever that was supposed to mean. The current form of taught education was... not something he particularly enjoyed.
Another step and he would be released from the grasp of this nonsensical place, yet that was a step he did not take.
Instead, he gazed over the surroundings, searching for a familiar form to no avail. Strange considering she was usually around before him.
It took another dozen seconds of staying idle and useless before the hurried sounds of footsteps drew his attention.
"Oh, sorry I'm late!"
There was a girl running towards his direction. She looked younger than him, her detailed school uniform identifying her as a student from the nearby prestigious middle school. Those natural brown locks and blue eyes which were rarely seen around Japan stood out in contrast to his plain looks.
Higashi Erika, his sister dearest.
The two had a Japanese mother and Russian father. He took all the Japanese genes while she got more Russian ones, though there were traces of oriental appearance on her as well, which only enhanced her beauty in his opinion.
"Sorry!" She held her hand together. "I had to discuss things about a study group and there was someone who had something to say about it and then someone else had bones to pick with it and--"
He poked her nose.
"Don't mind it Erika"
Thus he waved the worries away before starting to walk again, bag carried over his slouched shoulders. She followed without another word.
The two navigated towards their home in silence. Verbal communications were sparse between the two. Not because of strained relationships or anything of such nature, but rather the natural result of their personality being pitted against one another.
He was quiet by nature, and she was the accepting type who tries to not drag others out, leaving them be in their comfort zone.
Thus with those factors in the mix, it was normal for silence to ensue between them--
"Ah, by the way, Onii-chan."
--Though it seems she has something more to say today. Mura could tell from the way she referred him. Erika would never be caught using that pronoun anymore unless there was something she wanted from him.
"I have a surprise for you back home."
"What do you need from me?"
"How blunt."
"I rarely- and by that, I mean never- enjoyed beating around the bush."
"Well, just hope you'd use it properly."
Using something properly. 
He was too lazy to try and play detective. Why bother trying to deduce her vague wordings when he would find the answer without doing any of that bothersome stuff anyway?
Mura will just pray it wasn't a prank and call it a day. Pranking might not seem to fit her current persona at all, but she was quite the unruly child back in the past. How such a person could change so much, becoming studious and raising her ranks to reach the top ten within an elite school he has no idea.
A few hundred seconds passed and they reached the destination. It was not that far away anyway. One of the reasons Mura was given the nickname Siscon, was because he always went to and fro school together with Eika despite the short distance between house and school.
If Mura was asked why he walks with her every single schoolday, his response would be to shrug and say there was no deeper meaning behind the gesture. 
They could, therefore they did. Even if you try to dig farther nothing would pop out. Maybe it could be called [affectionate inclination between siblings] but nothing more.
This house they live in was larger compared to the ones surrounding it. Fortune decided he was to be born between two wealthy parents. Count his sister in and he would say his family was the best thing that ever happened to him.
Opening the front door, Mura was greeted with the living room seemingly spotless with nothing out of place. He raised an eyebrow towards his sister.
"It's already in your room. There is one in mine too."
Mura moved for the specified room with a fed-up sigh held in his throat, while Erika followed right behind him for whatever reason. At a guess, she wished to see his reaction towards this gift. Turning the doorknob Mura found his room as it usually is… minus one glaring difference.
"A Harmony headgear."
"Yup! I got two of them, one for us each."
"…Do I need to repeat how much I detest this game to you of all people?"
"I know you don't mean it, so you need not bother." She smiled. "You're just scared of having too much fun, aren't you?"
That was a strange way of putting 'I do not wish to become addicted to an imaginary world as many people seem to do lately'. 
And he was not even joking around. There are many gaming addicts showing up within Harmony, and the realism the game held was a matter of concern. Many people seem to prefer the game over reality. Big surprise. On another note though…
"So you're playing as well?"
"Yup."
"How'd you convince pops and mom?"
Erika was currently studying to be a medical doctor with a scholarship. That worked well for the past year as her grades have spiked significantly since she stated her ambitions. Their parents would never let all the efforts she made in the past year waste away because she wanted to play some games.
"With a lot of insisting. But I also promised them you'll play together with me, which might have played a part in convincing them."
Mura sighed. That was certainly sneaky of her. Now he either plays the game or convinces their parents why their son's avoidance of the game is more important than their daughter's whims. 
The second is straight-up impossible..
"…Fine, I'll play along for a bit."
"I knew you'd see things my way. By the way, start at Rockingham city when you create your character, yeah? That's where I will start as well. I'll return to my room and play the game straight away, so… mind doing the same?"
Mura sighed again. There was no holding it back. Both the sigh and the fact he will be playing this game he has been avoiding for these past few months for varying reasons...
Last time he conquered the entire Japanese martial arts community with his fighting skills, and this time it will be the Harmony gaming community. Seem so be a downgrade but fitting considering his degraded condition.
"...Sure."
Receiving those words with a smile the younger of the two left the room. Meanwhile, the older one stood still for a while before putting the headgear on. His logic was that the quicker he gets over it this the faster this whole charade will end.

A second chance is a blessing, A second chance after you let go and move on is less appreciated. He left the world of martial arts a year ago with an injured leg, and now his sister came knocking with a virtual reality game.
Thus came the rekindling of passion, among other things of similar nature.

There was a pot of tea in Yujia's hands, and Yu Zixu was correcting her every way of pouring it.
At first, the speed by which she worked was wrong. She was pouring it too fast, then too slow, then too fast, then too slow. She worked on correcting her speed for a solid few minutes, cups after cups of tea poured. Next, the issue was the angle by which she poured. And then, there was the exact way she held the pot. She was standing with the wrong posture. The distance between the table, Yu Zixu, and her, was completely wrong. The way she presented the cup of tea, finally poured properly, also turned out to be wrong.
There were many seeming nit-picky details, but Yujia knew that if she was going to be pouring tea anytime soon in the Yang Villa, at least she had become a master at it.
She didn't think that she had this many issues before she stepped into the Yu Villa and adopted Yu Zixu as a teacher. She thought that she did fairly well during her time pretending in the Yang Villa and Lingxin. Only, in front of someone like Zixu, more and more issues appeared out of what felt like nowhere. 
At the very least, Yujia was learning to correct every mistake. She was becoming perfect.
What was, possibly in the past, a decent disguise that she had, was becoming a full on second identity. Yujia had the sensation that she was developing a second ego. 
After working on her tea pouring skills, Zixu gave her advice on many other things. The two went out to the middle of the courtyard again, where she walked back and forth in front of him. He, as usual, offered plenty of corrections. He then brought Shen Li out, who ran through the list of ways for servants to greet their masters and more laws involving interactions. Yujia knew most of them already, from her experience interacting with servants, but going through them acted as both a way to refine and reinforce her knowledge.
Once that part was over, Yujia was given many miscellaneous tasks to carry out, from wiping tables, chopping vegetables, sweeping the yard, dusting shelves, washing clothes, polishing antiques, carrying trays and baskets, and many more. Whatever Yu Zixu could think of, Yujia practiced.
A few hours passed like this. Zixu spent half the time reading a book, barely supervising her. Except, every single time Yujia began to wonder if he was even paying attention, he always looked up and gave her another tip that she hadn't noticed before. 
Reaching the end of doing all that she could manage to practice, Yujia arrived at two major accomplishments. One, she was extremely well-trained in the art of being a maid now. Two, Yu Zixu's courtyard, which was already spotless before, was now shining in how clean it was. 
She found herself exhausted at the end of the day, both physically and mentally. She could see what Zixu meant by manual labor now, since this was definitely it.
Zixu finished reading a stack of books too. Her last task occurred in the study, so Zixu sat at his desk, the pile of books he had finished resting next to him. While Yujia waited by the side for any last tasks he had to give her, he stood up and walked around the room, tapping the book in his arm as he thought.
Finally, he faced her with a smile. "You've definitely become a good maid, Yu'er."
With the sign that there was no more manual labor coming up for her, Yujia threw a mini celebration in her head. She didn't let any sign of this relief show on the outside, in fear that it would become another point for Young Master Yu to pick on. Looking up at Zixu, Yujia waited for him to say anything else. 
"I—" Opening his mouth, Zixu seemed like he was about to say a word, but he quickly bit it back. He turned away, taking a few more steps in the opposite direction.
Yujia followed, keeping always a perfect distance between her and Zixu. There was a very specific distance that a maid should keep between her and her master, from what she learned. 
Zixu was always someone who mused over every single word before he allowed it to roll out his mouth. He spoke with few stammers, few mistakes, and few moments of hesitation, giving him an eloquent way of speech that was difficult to copy. It was also what Yujia believed to be the reason for why Zixu had a way of drawing attention and respect to him when he spoke. 
Seeing him stutter like this— to say something, and halt in saying it the moment after uttering the first word— was definitely a rare sight. He wasn't drunk or discussing an emotional topic either.
In a tentative manner, Yujia urged, "Young Master, is there anything else you need?" She was curious to see why Zixu faltered like that.
"I wondered, for a brief moment, if I should tell you something. But I decided not to. Not yet." He faced her again, a small smile across his lips. His eyes looked at her with a different gaze, one that was sly and knowing, as if he knew that keeping a secret like this from her would frustrate her.
And he was right. It bothered Yujia. A lot.
"Young Master, this maid would recommend telling it now rather than later," Yujia continued to urge, "Perhaps later, Young Master would forget."
She knew Yu Zixu would not forget. But still, she wanted to know right now. There were enough mysteries in her life already.
"Would you really like to know?" 
Yujia nodded to his words in response.
"Alright then. But don't blame me for speaking too early." Zixu took a step closer and leaned forward to her. One of the last dimming rays of sunlight filtered through the paper windows, catching perfectly on his strong features. His next words were soft, stuck between a whisper and a confession.
"I think, the more time I spend with you, the more I like you."
Yujia wanted to check if she heard right.
So many memories flashed in her mind, from countless times in the past where she heard wrong or misinterpreted Zixu's words in wrong ways. Most of the time, he meant innocent things that she took in completely incorrect ways.
This had to be another one of those situations. Yujia was more than wary. Zixu probably meant it in a friendly way.
"Young Master…" Yujia began, her voice trailing.
"I'm being serious," Zixu continued, "Let's step outside of this entire Young Master and Yu'er deal. The more time that I spend with you, the more that I think that I'm falling in love. What should I do about these feelings, hm?"
Yujia's emotions promptly skyrocketed into emergency mode.
She was pretty sure that she wasn't hearing wrong this time. 
But at the same time, Yujia had been traumatized way too many times in the past with Yu Zixu's antics. She really couldn't believe him anymore. He was probably messing with her. This was another test.
Gritting her teeth, Yujia managed to blurt out, "Young Master, please do not mess with this maid like this." It was difficult to keep her composure, but she managed to.
She thought about it some more. Zixu had to be messing with her. There was no way any normal person would make a confession like this, in the same manner that he did.
Only, Zixu's next words made Yujia really rethink.
"Do you seriously think that I would joke about something like this?" Zixu stated, "I know that you may think of this as another test, but it's not. Yang Yujia, I think I'm falling in love with you."
'Oh sh*t,' was the only phrase going through Yujia's mind.


At 24 years old, Yang Yujia is an unemployed art major, living off heavy debt and instant noodles. During a high-school reunion, Yujia gets drunk, does stupid things, and when she wakes up again, Yujia is no longer in the correct world, time-period, or body. 

Unfortunately, as a transmigrator, Yujia does not seem to have much luck either— instead of transmigrating with a set of stunning martial arts skills, knowledge that would aid her in troubling situations, or a position of royalty that would make her life much easier, Yujia is the fourth (illegitimate) daughter of a small merchant. And what skills does she have to help her survive this world?

A pretty face, witty mouth, and useless artistic talent?

Good enough. 

...

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She opens her eyes to meet, a pair of black eyes staring blankly on her face, "Drink it." as she hears the words, her eyes follow where it comes from. They landed on the mouth with a twisted corner of disgust, or was it disapproval? As she stares on those lips, her stomach tighten to another knot. This time it has nothing to do with the alcohol she drank in stupor but rather from a tiny pride that results to this shame, that if there is another human being alive that she wants to see her in her current state is not this man, bent over, hovering above her with no space to run.
She blinks her eyes to refuse the tears from spilling out, she feels the nudge of the warm bottle of tea on her face once again. "Hold it." he said, as he picked her up from the floor, she heard the toilet cover slam hard, and a small amount of impending scolding was acknowledged at the back of her brain that slowly sobered up. But before she could even open her mouth she was sat down on the toilet, and the face she doesn't want to see is right back in front of her face again.
Too close,  she thought as she could feel the air he exhales fanning her face, that now even without looking in the mirror she knows turn red. As she can feel the skin from her neck heat up to the back of her ears. It woke up the last sleeping cells from her brain, and clearly remember how her mouth tastes and how it smells, that probably being breath in with the same clarity of the air she inhales.
"Oh my fucking God, please kill me now!" her panicking brain screams as she grabs the bottle of tea offered in an attempt to wash her mouth with it, to hide the smell of alcohol from her. As she brought the bottle of tea to her lips, he stepped back and leaned on the bathroom wall across from her.
She watches him while slowly sipping the tea, not really sipping it but slowly moving the water inside her mouth to secretly wash it before swallowing. She saw a much gentler face watching her. No, definitely not gentle. He would never be gentle with her this time, after what she did in the moment of her uncontrolled temper. It happened too many times already that she is sure, this man would probably be too tired of her. Same as everybody with the people in her life. Tired and given up on how difficult she is. The word "difficult" is not just a word thrown as something hard to deal with, but mostly with contempt,  but hiding the real thought of "if only we can do something to you to make you disappear from our lives".
She blinks her eyes fast, and clenches the tea bottle to remind her brain to stay focused and not give in to self pity that is slowly rising. Not now. Not in front of this guy. Never in front of him. He should never know how trash she is.  She called in the anger, it's easier to manage and always straight forward.
" Why are you here? How did you get in?" she angrily asked him. 
"The door still remembers my fingerprint, while you on the other hand forgot to answer your phone, when I called last night so many times." he slowly draws the word as he speaks.
She stands up and walks to the lavatory, lowering her head to wash her face to hide the tears that are about to escape. It's hard to understand how it's so easy for her eyes to shed tears when it comes to DT.
Growing up she rarely cries, one of the many reasons why her mother is disappointed with her. She never shows real emotion except anger. Her great-grandmother Elizabeth, instructed the headmistress of her boarding school in Berlin to make sure she never missed an Anger Management session with her therapist. She is now fifteen years old and would turn sixteen in a few months. But the memory of Brandenburg, keeps on hunting her ever since her great-grandparents found out she's in Shanghai.
It feels like a decade already since she ran away from home, using the cover of never ending year end parties between her great-grandparents villa, grandparent mansion and shuffling between estate of so many family friends and business associates. Normally, she never attended those holiday events, her great-grandparents made sure for her not to, because it's better not to explain her existence to the world. Her mother never brought her to any of those kinds of parties either for her presence is not a good conversation starter in the circle of associates for her mother and her husband.
She spends Christmas and New Year holidays between Spain and France with her Aunt Joy, a high school classmate of her mother. The presence of her aunt Joy that is not a blood relative is another accepted yet unexplainable  in her life. She thinks it's not that it has no explanation, it's just adults simply refuse to give a story on who, what, where in her life. They just expect her to smile and just nod her head to whatever is being served in front of her. No need to justify things. Just do what they say. They never give her excuses, and at the same time she is not allowed to explain anything too with whatever reports about her given to her great-grandparents. They all believe those reports, bound in leather files, thick as a diplomat dossier. They must count and write the breath she takes everyday, for why would they end up with so many documents as a result.
The thought that she might send back again to another boarding school to what country only God knows, scared the shit of her.  But she will die first, if she lets the Old People know that those kinds of punishments called discipline scare her. She won't give them the satisfaction of winning her life.

With the never-ending holiday party at home, no one will miss her if she takes the same flight with that tall boy, right?  All she has to do is get on the plane, never mind if the plane will bring her from Oslo to China!

---------

"Would you like to come into my room, join me with some drinks and hear what I want?" she drunkenly said it at that time.

"Don't worry, I don't mean any harm," she said assuring the man before she dropped herself to the couch. 

"Are you traveling alone? Don't you have any adult companion with you?" he carefully asked as he stood in front of Ellise.

"Hey, mister, you must have difficulty understanding, I already said, I'm alone, right?" she answered back.

"You're clearly too young to be drinking alone in a hotel room, in a country where you don't know anybody and on top of that you invited a stranger in your room," he said with concern.

"Why, you're also too young to be having an affair with a married woman, meet her in a hotel away from the city in the middle of the night. How old are you, anyway?" she sarcastically answered back, avoiding the issue of inviting a stranger.

"I'm twenty, and I'm not having an affair with a married woman," he answered with a straight face.

"If you're not having an affair why the two of you clearly look like you're hiding," she said, not planning to lost an answer and question interrogation

"Listen, little girl. You better stop drinking because you're already drunk with all of these expensive wines," he said in annoyance.

"You see, I have a credit card that has no limit, paying for all of my expenses here. I've been here in Shanghai since the first week of January, and today is my birthday. It's almost two months already, but nobody has come or asked from my family if I'm okay." she said in a broken voice.

----
Book Cover by: Sendaline_16



She opens her eyes to meet, a pair of black eyes staring blankly on her face, "Drink it." as she hears the words, her eyes follow where it comes from. They landed on the mouth with a twisted corner of disgust, or was it disapproval? As she stares on those lips, her stomach tighten to another knot. This time it has nothing to do with the alcohol she drank in stupor but rather from a tiny pride that results to this shame, that if there is another human being alive that she wants to see her in her current state is not this man, bent over, hovering above her with no space to run. 

She blinks her eyes to refuse the tears from spilling out, she feels the nudge of the warm bottle of tea on her face once again. "Hold it," he said, as he picked her up from the floor, she heard the toilet cover slam hard, and a small amount of impending scolding was acknowledged at the back of her brain that slowly sobered up. But before she could even open her mouth she was sat down on the toilet, and the face she doesn't want to see is right back in front of her face again. 

Too close, she thought as she could feel the air he exhales fanning her face, that now even without looking in the mirror she knows turned red, she can feel the skin from her neck heat up to the back of her ears. It woke up the last sleeping cells from her brain, and clearly remember how her mouth tastes and how it smells, that probably being breath in with the same clarity of the air she inhales. 

Oh my f*cking God, please kill me now!, her panicking brain screams as she grabs the bottle of tea offered in an attempt to wash her mouth with it, to hide the smell of alcohol from her. As she brought the bottle of tea to her lips, he stepped back and leaned on the bathroom wall across from her. 

She watches him while slowly sipping the tea, not really sipping it but slowly moving the water inside her mouth to secretly wash it before swallowing. She saw a much gentler face watching her. No, definitely not gentle. He would never be gentle with her this time, after what she did in the moment of her uncontrolled temper. 

It happened too many times already that she is sure, this man would probably be too tired of her. Same as everyone in in her life. Tired and given up on how difficult she is. The word, difficult is not just a word thrown as something hard to deal with, but mostly with contempt, but hiding the real thought of if only we can do something to you to make you disappear from our lives. 

She blinks her eyes fast, and clenches the tea bottle to remind her brain to stay focused and not give in to self pity that is slowly rising. Not now. Not in front of this guy. Never in front of him. He should never know how trash she is. She called in the anger, it's easier to manage and always straight forward. 

" Why are you here? How did you get in?" she angrily asked him. 

"The door still remembers my fingerprint, while you on the other hand forgot to answer your phone, when I called you so many times last night." he slowly draws the word as he speaks. 

She stands up and walks to the lavatory, lowering her head to wash her face to hide the tears that are about to escape. It's hard to understand how it's so easy for her eyes to shed tears when it comes to DT. 

Growing up she rarely cries, one of the many reasons why her mother is disappointed with her. She never shows real emotion except anger. Her great-grandmother Elizabeth, instructed the headmistress of her boarding school in Berlin to make sure she never missed an Anger Management session with her therapist. With her situation, the memory of Brandenburg, keeps on hunting her ever since her great-grandparents found out she's in Shanghai. 

Before she turns sixteen she left home, and that was just about two months ago, yet it feels like a decade already since she ran away from home, using the cover of never ending year end parties between her great-grandparent's villa, and grandparent mansion, shuffling between estate of so many family friends and business associates. Normally, she never attended those holiday events, her great-grandparents made sure for her not to, because it's better not to explain her existence to the world. Her mother never brought her to any of those kinds of parties either for her presence is not a good conversation starter in the circle of associates for her mother and her husband. 

She spends Christmas and New Year holidays between Spain and France with her Aunt Joy, a high school classmate of her mother. The presence of her aunt Joy which is not a blood relative is another accepted yet unexplained in her life. She thinks it's not that it has no explanation, it's just that adults simply refuse to give a reason on who, what, where in her life. They just expect her to smile and just nod her head to whatever is being served in front of her. No need to justify things. Just do what they say. They never give her excuses, and at the same time she is not allowed to explain anything too with whatever reports about her given to her great-grandparents. They all believe those reports, bound in leather files, thick as a diplomat dossier. They must count and write the breath she takes everyday, for why would they end up with so many documents as a result. 

The thought that she might be sent back again to another boarding school to what country only God knows, scared the shit out of her. But she will die first, if she lets the Old People know that those kinds of punishments called discipline scare her. She won't give them the satisfaction of winning her life.

With the never-ending holiday party at home, no one will miss her if she takes the same flight with that tall boy, right? All she has to do is get on the plane, never mind that the plane will bring her from Oslo to China!




------

"Would you like to come into my room, join me with some drinks and hear what I want?" she drunkenly said it at that time.

"Don't worry, I don't mean any harm," she said assuring the man before she dropped herself to the couch. 

"Are you traveling alone? Don't you have any adult companion with you?" he carefully asked as he stood in front of Ellise.

"Hey, mister, you must have difficulty understanding, I already said, I'm alone, right?" she answered back.

"You're clearly too young to be drinking alone in a hotel room, in a country where you don't know anybody and on top of that you invited a stranger in your room," he said with concern.

"Why, you're also too young to be having an affair with a married woman, meet her in a hotel away from the city in the middle of the night. How old are you, anyway?" she sarcastically answered back, avoiding the issue of inviting a stranger.

"I'm twenty, and I'm not having an affair with a married woman," he answered with a straight face.

"If you're not having an affair why the two of you clearly look like you're hiding," she said, not planning to lost an answer and question interrogation.

"Listen, little girl. You better stop drinking because you're already drunk with all of these expensive wines," he said in annoyance.

"You see, I have a credit card that has no limit, paying for all of my expenses here. I've been here in Shanghai since the first week of January, and today is my birthday. It's almost two months already, but nobody has come or asked my family if I'm okay." she said in a broken voice.

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Bookcover by: Sendaline_16

Moving through Omnipotence City, it was obvious that things were tense. There were a number of Gods from Pantheons of worlds that had been destroyed or their populations wiped out. Omnipotence City had expanded from its original mandate and actually served as a refuge for those Gods, providing them places to stay until new planets were found that could accommodate new Pantheons.
This was not always the case and there were hundreds of Gods that spent the remainder of their lives in Omnipotence City. As a result it was now a bustling Metropolis always filled with activity and bustling streets, Gods and Goddesses combining their knowledge to create a truly marvellous city worthy of the Gods.
However, now things were different.
The deaths of numerous Gods and even entire Pantheons of Gods being wiped out had not gone unnoticed and the bustling city had changed to one of tense silence. The various Gods looking to one another to blame, unable to believe the idea that a mortal of all things could kill one of them. As a result, many were viewing these deaths as acts of war by other Gods.
And as the sight of Norse and Olympian Gods, two of the most famous and powerful Pantheons were seen in one another's company, it attracted a great deal of attention, and not all of it was good.
As the acting guards on this mission, Amora, Sif and Hercules watched those around them warily. Waiting for anyone to attack, while Thor and Athena continued to converse as they made their way towards one of the meeting rooms that had been prepared in advance.
"You're sure that it was a mortal?" Athena asked and Thor nodded his head. "It seems unlikely that a mortal of all beings could even match a single God, let alone kill entire Pantheons."
"I am aware of how unlikely it sounds." Thor said, a frown on his face as he remembered what happened that night when he encountered the shadowed figure. "But I give you my word, what I sensed was true. That was no God nor beast, it was a mortal, but there was something strange about him. The power surrounding him is not his own."
Athena nodded her head, understanding what he was saying. "I see, so he has found something that has given him the power to kill Gods. That is a worrying thought."
At that moment, they arrived at the meeting room and entered inside, Hercules, Amora and Sif remaining outside while Athan and Thor took a seat at the table. Removing his decorative cloak that showed his position as Prince of Asgard, Thor reached out and poured himself a glass of wine, offering one to Athena who shook her head.
"Hercules trusts your word, he believes what you say about it being a mortal that's killing Gods. Even if what you say is true and this mortal has found a weapon of some kind that is allowing him to kill Gods, it is still difficult to believe." Athena admitted, Thor nodding his in agreement, having expected this. "However, due to Hercules backing your words and trusting them, I have been told by Zeus to accept what you tell us."
Thor made a mental note to thank Hercules for the trust he was been shown. Zeus was notoriously stubborn and was once quite a lustful man back in the time when Olympus had a large presence in Midgard. Though the first initial conflict between Asgard and Olympus as a result of Hercules leading a band of warriors to attack a Viking party under the command of Thor had nearly sparked a war. It was these two Kings who created peace before a war could truly spark between their two nations.
But there was still a tenseness between the Norse and Olympian Pantheons, Thor and Hercules' constant battles against one another, despite being friendly duels they had made a few things strained. The fact that Hercules was able to convince Zeus to to place his faith in him was a testament to their friendship.
"I thank you for that and while you may not believe me yet, I give you my word as the Prince of Asgard and the son of Odin, that what I tell you is the truth.
Athena said nothing to that affect. "What do you intend to do then, Thor Odinson? From what I'm aware, King Odin has forbidden any Asgardian to exit the lands of Asgard you've already taken a great risk to come here. So I wonder, what exactly do you plan to do?"
"Its simple, I intend to remind this, God Hunter the natural order of this world." Thor firmly told her. "I have no intention of hiding, in doing so we are giving the God Hunter exactly what he wants, confirmation that we are not Gods, but simple cowards. And it emboldens our enemies further."
"Your enemies, you mean." Athena corrected. "We have no enemies, the Dark Gods were our last ones but only Perrikos and Adva elude our capture. You on the other hand, Prince Thor, stand to lose far more than we do. You have many enemies that would love to take the Nine Realms for themselves, allies as well."
"And if this works, not only would both Asgard and Olympus be praised for defeating the God Hunter, but we could further secure an alliance between our Pantheons." Thor offered. "We are both aware that there is a secret pact that our fathers signed, the context of which I imagine neither of us are aware. But if we do this, I can convince my father to extend the terms of our alliance just as you and Hercules could do the same."
"An alliance between Asgard and Olympus would benefit both nations." Athena agreed. "But this all depends on whether you can defeat this God Hunter, he has already proven skilled enough to kill numerous Gods, what makes you any different."
Thor chuckled. "Come now, Lady Athena. We both know that the Pantheons he has wiped out were nothing more than lowly Gods, hardly worthy of the title of God. But we are different, are we not?"
That was the truth, there was a very clearly defined hierarchy in terms of Godly Pantheons and up at the very top were those such as the Norse and Olympian Pantheons. An alliance of a hundred smaller Pantheons could not rival even one of them, let alone an alliance of two such Pantheons. But after the Dark Gods, one of the few rival Pantheons to them both had been wiped out, the other lower Pantheons started to get a little more cocky.
"Even so, I did not take you for a man to underestimate their opponents."
"I am not." Thor said firmly. "But I am also not overestimating him. I look at what he has done, who he has killed and I take what I know into context. If I underestimate him I give him the advantage and if I overestimate him, I once again give him the advantage. The battle between me and him has already begun Athena, a battle of the minds. If I lose here then I have no chance of victory."
Athena remained silent, studying Thor closely as she poured herself a glass of wine for the first time, refilling Thor's own glass as well.
"It seems Hercules was right, you're not just a brute." Thor chuckled. "Are you sure you can win?"
"Aye, I'm sure. The God Hunter will be defeated, that I assure you."
Both Athena and Thor tapped their glasses against one another before taking a drink to commemorate their agreement.

When the soul of a dead Thor fan fuses with the God of Thunder, it creates an unforeseen result. Thor due to his divinity survives, but his mind is forever altered.

Now he wanders the world of Marvel as a hero, a warrior, a leader, a legend, a King and above all else, a God of Thunder.

= = = = = = = = = = 

Just want to let you know this isn’t your typical SI fanfic where the MC has meta knowledge. That isn’t the case and there’s a plot reason behind that. Instead, the meta knowledge is there but sealed away and comes across as powerful instincts and vague visions in his dreams.

My own unique little spin on something that’s been done to death.

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