"Dragons," Avaris said, casually tossing an apple into the air as he reclined on a sunlit stone. "A race of mythical creatures that have inhabited the world long before humans and other species. Arguably, the oldest existing species besides the high elves."
He bit into the apple with a loud crunch.
"Originally, dragons ruled the seventy-five continents; all other species were subject to their authority. That era—also known as the True Dragonian Era—lasted for millions of years, until the gods intervened, sparking a great war that leveled the majority of the continents. In the end, the dragon god TAMIRA was defeated by three beings: an anonymous human god, the chaos god BETHRA, and the high elf king, VRAGGAR."
Maya said nothing. She sat nearby, her back pressed to the rough bark of a tree, letting his words drift over her like wind.
Avaris continued, voice calm but heavy with a strange fondness, like he was remembering a favorite old tale.
"TAMIRA fled. Under pursuit from the chaos god, he made a deal with the King of the Underworld to craft an abstract realm—a world even the chaos god could not enter. This realm eventually became the World of Dragons."
He smiled without humor, eyes following the apple as it floated above his palm.
"The chaos god, furious that TAMIRA had escaped, took out his rage on the remnant dragons, singlehandedly wiping out every single one. What remained was ash, ruin, and silence."
A beat of quiet passed. Birds chirped overhead, indifferent.
"Ugh," Maya muttered, rubbing her temples. "I don't want to hear this dumb story. Why are you even here?"
"Oh please," Avaris replied, unbothered. "That's a common misconception. Who would want to sit all day just watching? You mortals seem to think gods don't get bored or feel emotions."
She sighed, dragging her fingers through her tangled hair. He hadn't left her alone since that first encounter. Now he was just always there. Annoyingly present.
The forest around them was thick with towering trees, at least twenty meters tall and three meters wide. Moss coiled around their bases. Golden beams of sunlight pierced the canopy in broken shafts, painting the forest floor in uneven light. They were deep in the northern forests of Hacrale.
After Maya had finished off the third lesser dragon, she'd kept heading north until she found the river. That was three weeks ago. She drank her fill, bathed, and for the first time, felt clean. Then she sat. Then she trained.
Right now, with her physical strength alone, she could restrain dragons that could uproot small mountains. Her speed and stamina were even more terrifying. Crossing hundreds of kilometers in less than an hour had felt… effortless.
She looked down at her hands.
Polarity Reset.
Her mysterious ability.
It allowed her to reverse a state into its corresponding opposite—hot to cold, life to death, up to down, forward to backward. Like flipping a coin and deciding whether it landed on heads or tails. There were restrictions: she had to make direct contact. It also didn't seem to affect beings with the same qualitative existence level very well, and it probably wouldn't work at all on higher beings.
She couldn't directly erase same-grade entities from existence, but she'd still managed to kill them by toggling the condition of "alive" to "dead." Weaker creatures—like germs or insects—were easy. A mere thought could strip them from reality. Which meant, in theory, once her qualitative existence reached higher levels, she could reset even lower or mid-grade dragons into nothing.
The river nearby flowed gently, and the golden forest light danced over its surface, indifferent to her presence. There were no humans. No voices. Just trees, water, wind—and a god she didn't trust.
Am I really supposed to just keep going? Alone? With no one to talk to, no one to help?
She had no memories before this world. Just the chains she'd escaped, the fire, and the blood. And now she was here—with nothing but a deadly gift and a smiley god tagging along for reasons she couldn't understand.
Is this my life now? Wandering a dragon-infested world with no end in sight?
She dug her fingers into the dirt beside her.
I don't want this.
Maya finally broke the silence.
"Hey. How do I leave this world?"
Avaris didn't reply right away. He just smiled, staring into the distance.
"Ah," he said, tapping a finger against his temple. "That's what I've been trying to tell you—through the Dragonian history."
Maya was beginning to feel frustration and anger.
"Just get to the point, or take me out of this world yourself. Aren't you a god?"
He appeared thoughtful for a second.
"Hmm…"
"I could, technically. But where's the fun in that? You'd skip all the interesting parts. Currently, besides praying for me to take you across the dimensional barrier, there are three ways for you to leave."
Maya scoffed. "Why would I pray to a dumb bottom-tier god like you? What are the three ways?"
"Option one."
Avaris lifted one finger, closing his eyes like a philosopher about to deliver profound wisdom.
"You keep killing dragons and absorb their life essence until your qualitative existence reaches greater grade. Then you can forcefully escape through holes in the dimensional walls. At your current stage—assuming you can kill one high-grade dragon every day—it should be achievable in approximately 791 years."
Her jaw dropped.
"What the hell? Seven hundred and—"
"Ninety-one," he repeated cheerfully. "Of course, this assumes there are no mistakes, injuries, mental breakdowns, or death."
He continued, not caring about Maya's reactions or whatever questions she might have.
"As you already know, for all mortal lifeforms—by mortal lifeforms I mean lifeforms that don't possess any amount of godhood—qualitative existence is classified into eleven grades: micro, minor, lesser, lower, medium, high, higher, great, greater, ascendant, and transcendent. There are only two ways to ascend to a higher grade. You can either kill lifeforms and consume their life essence—of course, the lower the grade, the smaller the life essence. Perhaps, if you get lucky and kill a transcendent grade, you can acquire enough life essence to ascend to greater grade. Jokes aside, you have no chance of winning against a medium grade at your level. So killing a high grade every day is impossible—and it's not like high grades are that common, even if you had the required capabilities. Also—"
Maya interrupted him sharply.
"What if a person willingly gave up their life essence—or just a bit of it?"
With a beaming smile that made it seem like he didn't care that she'd just interrupted his profound session, Avaris shook his head repeatedly.
"Sharing or directly manipulating life essence is impossible without godhood. I'm sure you don't know any gods who would help you ascend directly." There was a moment of awkward silence. Avaris sighed and continued, "Please don't look at me that way. Helping you ascend is even more boring than personally taking you outside the dimensional barrier. I'll never do it."
Maya exhaled and replied with a bit of disappointment in her tone.
"I thought as much."
What a jerk! Maybe it's possible to reset my grade to a higher one using Polarity Reset, theoretically—
"You know I can hear your thoughts, right?"
Maya made a face that said I know, but I don't care.
Avaris continued. "Anyway, it's possible with your ability, but with your qualitative existence still at lesser grade, it's absolutely impossible. Remember, directly manipulating life essence requires godhood. That's the number one requirement. That means even if you were a transcendent grade, you'd still be unable to do so."
Getting sick of being told she couldn't do things because she had no godhood, Maya simply asked—
"Then how do—"
"I obtain godhood," he finished the sentence for her with a sly grin, pressing a finger to his lips. "That's a secret."
Not giving her a chance to get another word in, he quickly added, "Option two."
Quickly deciding not to dwell on the topic of godhood, she immediately focused on his next words.
"Kill the dragon god, TAMIRA. This dimension will automatically collapse if you do that."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she let out a quiet sigh, clearly tired of the impossible suggestions this dumb god kept bringing up.
In an imitative voice that mocked his tone, she said, "Knowing you, you'll probably say something like Knowing you, you'll probably say something like I can't kill the dragon god for you—it'd ruin the story or whatever."
She pressed on.
"What's option three?"
Avaris didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he gazed upward, as if the trees and sky held something mildly interesting. A wind stirred the leaves, but the silence dragged on long enough to annoy her. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too casual.
"Most of you never think of it. Not seriously. Not until your bones are breaking and your soul is unraveling."
He glanced her way.
"But it's always been there. A path etched into the base of all things. The simplest option."
He turned to her now, expression unreadable, but that slight smile lingered at the corners of his lips.
"Die."
He let the word hang.
"Option three is to die."