The courtyard of Stelluna’s estate had become a battlefield soaked in blood and fury. What was once a noble estate was now a slaughterhouse, and at its heart, four factions of monsters tore into each other like beasts fighting over territory.

  In the early game of Dream Land Online, solo players like Frostina, back when she was just another nameless grind rat, used tactics like this all the time.

  She didn’t need to be strong. Just clever.

  Hide in the shadows, let the monsters do the dirty work, then slip in at the last second to deal the finishing blow and steal the experience points.

  Back then, it was an exploit.

  Now, it was a desperate strategy. And far easier in practice, because here, no one was a player, no experience points needed. So they could just stand and watch the monsters kill each other.

  Especially on a battlefield this vast.

  The courtyard stretched wide, with the collapsed remains of Stelluna’s estate at its center, a jagged pile of blackened rubble and corpses stacked high from the first assault.

  Hundreds of warriors, Cryssa’s group and the mercenaries, had taken cover behind it. The debris acted as a shield, at least from the monsters still too busy killing each other to notice the humans.

  It should have worked.

  But then… fate blinked.

  A massive Cerberus was struck by an Iron Golem’s flailing fist.

  The beast flew through the air like a meteor, crashing through the wreckage with a deafening roar, stone and splinters exploding around it as it tumbled end over end.

  It skidded to a brutal stop just meters from Cryssa’s position.

  The high mound of debris shielding them scattered like sand, revealing them all in an instant.

  Their hidden positions were now exposed.

  And the monsters noticed.

  Eyes turned.

  Roars echoed.

  The battle shifted.

  The territorial war was over. A new instinct surged through the monsters.

  It was predation.

  Now they had a clear target.

  The humans… were the prey.

  The monsters didn’t stop fighting each other, but even as they tore at their enemies, they began to charge, half in bloodlust, half in hunger, toward the exposed humans.

  Cryssa’s breath caught in her chest, the air turning sharp in her lungs.

  And then… things got worse.

  Stelluna’s estate had only one gate. A single point of exit.

  It was at the front.

  And they were at the back.

  The path was cut off.

  They were surrounded and trapped.

  Then…

  Laughter broke the silence.

  One of the mercenary captains stepped forward, sword already resting on his shoulder.

  “I guess we’re on our own now, huh?”

  He didn’t look back. But Cryssa knew the words were meant for her.

  She lowered her eyes, guilt crawling up her throat.

  “...I’m sorry.”

  But he didn’t sound bitter.

  He sounded… thrilled.

  “I’ll take that monster battle show earlier as payment.”

  Another captain stepped up beside him, cracking his neck.

  “Yeah, right. You just want to look good in front of Lady Cryssa.”

  A third captain joined them, rolling his shoulder with a smirk.

  “My damn arm’s stiff from taking orders all night. Let’s stretch it out.”

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  They were all A-rank mercenaries.

  Towering men with bodies built like war machines, each carrying a greatsword slung across their back like it weighed nothing.

  And Cryssa knew this wasn’t bravado.

  They were stepping forward to protect her.

  It was their way of telling her:

  “Run.”

  But Cryssa Stelluna didn’t run.

  She was the daughter of Cassius Stelluna.

  Her father never fled from battle.

  And neither would she.

  To flee would shame everything she stood for.

  So she breathed deep, gripped her sword until her knuckles whitened, and took a step forward.

  “I’ll take the ogres.”

  Her voice rang out like a command.

  The first captain barked out a laugh.

  “Did you hear that?! If you bastards lose, I’ll chop you up myself for embarrassing our lady!”

  The second captain raised his blade to the sky.

  “Move your asses! No lazy bastards on this field!”

  The third roared.

  “No strategy this time. Just KILL!”

  “KILL!!! UWOOOOO!!!”

  A battle cry surged through the mercenaries like wildfire.

  Blades were drawn.

  And without another word…

  They charged.

  Toward the monsters.

  ……

  The roar of monsters shook the courtyard as ogres thundered forward in a stampede of muscle, tusks, and rage.

  Cryssa stood at the front.

  Her sword trembled in her grip.

  This was no game. No simulation. No practice duel.

  This was real.

  If she fell here, there would be no respawn.

  The first ogre broke from the pack, howling as it barreled toward her. Blood matted its chest, and a broken arrow jutted from its eye socket.

  It didn’t slow down. If anything, the pain made it faster.

  A jolt of fear pushed Cryssa back a step. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears like war drums. Her breath came short and ragged.

  “I can’t…”

  Another ogre followed.

  Then another.

  Their howls filled the courtyard, rattling her bones.

  But fear still gripped her thoughts.

  —You’re not strong enough.

  —You’ve never killed before.

  Then… a voice. Not Ayla’s, but her father’s.

  “You bear the name Stelluna.”

  Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword.

  And from the corner of her eye, she saw them.

  To her right side, Iori, her sword drawn, eyes locked on the enemy.

  To her left, Glacia, her staff aglow with frostlight, lips already whispering the beginning of a spell.

  Neither spoke.

  But neither ran.

  They were waiting.

  Waiting for her.

  Not Cryssa the noble girl.

  Not the flustered strategist.

  But Cryssa Stelluna the knight.

  The ogre lunged.

  Cryssa exhaled.

  And stepped forward.

  Her sword moved, not fast, but precise. The edge met flesh with a clean, slicing whisper. Light-blue energy surged from the blade, coating it in a shimmering frost.

  The ogre’s cry twisted into a scream as its leg froze mid-step, then shattered beneath its weight.

  Cryssa turned, blade flowing like a dancer’s ribbon, severing a second ogre’s wrist before its club could fall.

  “This is… Stelluna Swordsmanship.”

  Not brute strength, not frenzied motion. But control, precision, and cold.

  More ogres rushed in, but Cryssa no longer felt the weight in her chest. Her fear had crystallized into focus. Her heartbeat slowed. Her eyes sharpened.

  And the frost deepened around her.

  To her right, Iori moved like a mirrored echo, less practiced, but burning with potential. Her sword slashed in clean arcs, each swing followed by an icy trail.

  An ogre raised a club, but Iori ducked low and drove her blade into its ribs, frost spreading outward with each twist.

  “We can do this, Master. We follow you.”

  To her left, Glacia stepped forward, robes swirling, hair glowing in the cold blue shimmer of her magic.

  Her voice rang out.

  “Frostbind!”

  Chains of ice erupted from the ground, wrapping around an ogre’s legs, locking it in place just as Cryssa’s blade pierced its chest.

  It screamed, the sound cut short by a blast of—

  “Icicle Shards!”

  Dozens of dagger-sized projectiles slammed into the monster’s torso, freezing blood mid-air as it collapsed in a hissing heap.

  From above… support came.

  FWOOOSH!

  A fireball exploded against the far wall, blasting two ogres off their feet.

  A mage’s voice rang out from the rooftops.

  “Cover the Lady!”

  Arrows rained from archers stationed outside the front gate, picking off monsters too close to Cryssa’s flanks.

  The tide was holding, but barely.

  Cryssa spun, ducked, and slashed, ice trailing behind every movement, each strike cleaner, sharper. A chill wind gathered around her as her sword began to pulse with light-blue energy, frost creeping up the blade to her elbow.

  One ogre raised both fists overhead, preparing to crush her.

  She didn’t flinch.

  She stepped inside the strike and whispered,

  “Stelluna Second Form: Fracturing Gale.”

  Her blade split the air in a diagonal sweep.

  The ogre’s torso exploded in a burst of icy mist, flesh frozen, cracked, and shattered before it even hit the ground.

  Silence held for just a heartbeat.

  Then came the roars.

  More ogres, and more.

  Cryssa kept moving.

  Her blade danced in arcs of frost, slashing and cleaving.

  Ogres froze mid-charge. Shattered mid-scream.

  Again. And again. And again.

  She bore the ice of Stelluna, held it in her hands, her breath, her blood.

  As Stelluna, she was the ice.

  Until…

  The ice itself cracked.