The name of a new world

Seras had given them instructions before leaving: they were to monitor Gilly at all times.

Unlike Ephini, who had become more emotional after everything that happened, Zin's mind burned with curiosity about Gilly's true origin.

They all knew she was most likely related to the previous Elven Queen, but no one could tell if she was a direct descendant.

Zin shook his head, realizing that Valmor had quietly left, leaving him alone in the hall.

He exhaled, turned, and walked out, closing the door behind him.

When the room finally fell into silence, a girl around the age of ten appeared as if from nowhere.

She wore a brown hoodie, her face half-hidden in its shadow, and in her small hands she carried a large book—about the same size as the one Gilly had held earlier. But this book had no chains; instead, gears and intricate brass fittings decorated its cove

The girl glanced around, her gaze searching. She sighed.

"I guess I was too late. They must have probably taken it," she murmured, her voice small but clear. "I must report it to Master."

With a turn of the gears on the book's cover, she vanished, leaving behind only a whisper of echoing clockwork.

--

Gilly quietly followed Ephini back to her room.

This time, Ephini spoke little. Whenever Gilly tried to ask something, Ephini answered with short, clipped words that ended the conversation almost before it began.

It felt strange—moments ago, Ephini had spoken warmly about magic, eager to share. Now, she seemed to shrink away, shutting herself off.

At the door to Gilly's room, Ephini paused. She didn't say anything, but her expression gave Gilly a glimpse of something deeper: fear. Fear not of Gilly, but of something else—or someone else.

Not wanting to press her, Gilly stepped into her room and collapsed on her bed. Sleep took her quickly.

-

When she opened her eyes, only one moon hung in the sky—a sign the night cycle was almost over.

She got up quickly, an anxious thought tugging at her: Maybe she could still catch Ephini in the library.

Gilly pushed the heavy door open, peeking inside, half-expecting Ephini's cold gaze.

"Boo!"

She jumped, startled by a light touch on her shoulder.

Turning, she saw the little girl from earlier—the one she'd glimpsed when she first took the mana test. The girl giggled, her bright smile glowing in the silver light of the moon.

"Umm…" Gilly couldn't find words, caught off guard.

But the girl's smile faded as a calm voice called from deeper within the room:

"Zenora…"

Zenora's shoulders stiffened. Without another word, she stepped past Gilly, placing herself between Gilly and the library door.

"My master is busy with some research," she said quietly, but firmly. "It would be better not to disturb."

Before Gilly could protest, Zenora shut the door, leaving her alone in the dim hall.

A cold certainty crept into Gilly's chest: Something had changed in that room… after the book disappeared.

---

With nowhere else to go, she wandered toward the training grounds.

Only Pom was there when she arrived. He was splitting cadets and trainees into groups of ten.

Spotting her, Pom waved her over.

"Perfect timing, Gilly," he called. "We're about to explore parts of the forest. It'll be good for your training."

She nodded slightly, though her thoughts still felt heavy—Ephini's sudden coldness weighed on her more than she wanted to admit.

Now more wary, she looked around the gathered cadets.

Most were older, taller, sharper-eyed. In her assigned group of nine, she realized she was the only female, and the only trainee among cadets.

Pom stepped forward to introduce her.

"This is Gilly. I'm sure most of you have seen her by now. Please be nice to her—especially you."

He pointed at a young elf near the back, who carried a long sword strapped across his back.

The elf had green hair and a nasty expression. When Gilly met his gaze, he spat on the ground and looked away.

Her stomach clenched, but she said nothing. He seemed strong—arguing wouldn't help.

Pom patted her shoulder gently, as if to reassure her.

They were assigned to the far north side of the forest, past the lake where she'd first been found.

Before departure, Pom had quietly advised her: Don't get too close to Siel, the green-haired elf. No reason given—just a warning she had to accept.

It was supposed to be a five-day round trip.

Being surrounded by experienced cadets should have made her feel safe—but something inside her whispered a different warning.

The moment she joined the team, her instincts screamed: danger.

---

On ahead they went into the forest. Most of the cadets dashed along the canopy with practiced ease, their figures flickering between branches like shadows. Only Gilly ran below, on foot, breath catching in her throat as she tried to keep up with the team above.

When they made their first stop, she arrived ten minutes late—lungs burning, legs trembling. But by the time she reached them, they were already preparing to leave again.

No one spoke a word to her. Yet in the silence, she felt it clearly: a strong discord that lay heavy in the air. The only one who spared her a glance was the team leader, Penre—but even his gaze was hard, dissatisfied with her weakness.

They went on ahead, disappearing into the leaves, as Gilly paused to catch her breath, heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.

---

A day had passed. They had reached their fifth stop by now—and Gilly lagged an hour behind.

Most of them didn't seem to care about the distance growing between them. If anything, some were quietly glad; she was more a burden than a help to seasoned cadets sent to patrol the northern border.

This part of the forest was considered safe, and the group's real task lay further north—retrieving something from the border. To them, Gilly was the least of their concerns.

"Penre… are we going?" Siel asked, his tone edged with impatience.

Penre stared back over his shoulder, eyes lingering on the trail Gilly should have been on. After a moment, he shook his head and turned forward again, leading the group deeper into the forest without her.

---

Left behind, Gilly decided to change her strategy. She would make fewer stops than the team—even if it left her exhausted—so she wouldn't fall further behind.

For a while, she tried leaping into the canopy like them, but each attempt ended in painful failure. Still, stubbornness drove her to try again, and by the third stop she managed it—landing awkwardly but at least without falling.

The effort punished her legs and heels, so she limited her practice to moments after each stop.

---

Now she neared the end of a wide, cleared space in the forest, where she thought the team might have paused earlier.

But as she stepped into it, a strange chill brushed her skin.

She hadn't realized it, but little by little, she had drifted off the planned path. By now, she was about fifteen degrees off course, and roughly five kilometers behind the rest of the group.

She stood still, scanning the environment. The forest felt wrong—quiet in a way that was all too familiar. It reminded her of the hush inside that cave where her nightmare had begun.

Her azure hair stirred gently in the wind. Gilly forced herself not to move, holding her breath as instinct prickled along her skin.

She felt it: a pair of eyes locked onto her, watching.

Yet what stopped her cold wasn't only the sense of being hunted. It was the sharp, metallic scent that clung to the air around her—like stale blood left too long under the sun.

She remained frozen, heart hammering, eyes straining into the shadows.

--

She felt a rushing wind, too fast to react.

Her body lifted and slammed hard into the trunk of a tree. Pain bloomed through her ribs and she coughed up blood, crimson drops splattering the leaves.

Groaning, she forced herself to stand, vision blurred—and saw it:

A creature, shaped roughly like a man but covered in dull, hard scales. Its reptilian eyes fixed on her with cold hunger.

She tried to draw her sword, but before steel cleared the scabbard, it struck again—kicking her square in the head.

She flew, bones rattling, and crashed through another tree, snapping it like dry wood. She landed hard, sliding through mud and leaves.

Dizzy, bleeding, Gilly staggered to her feet. Her own blood pooled at her boots. I'm going to die, she thought, despair creeping in.

Then her eyes caught movement: a pile of bodies—four trainees and two cadets, lifeless and torn.

Her jaw clenched. Hands trembling, she drew her sword at last, facing the monster.

But it was gone. The clearing seemed empty—yet her instincts screamed danger.

+"Mirage sense will now be engraved into our soul."

The voice echoed inside her mind, alien yet familiar.

A blur of motion shot past. Gilly ducked instinctively, air whistling over her head as the monster landed meters away in a swirl of dust.

She turned, seeing nothing but shadows and falling leaves. Again it rushed her—she leaped aside, heart pounding, barely avoiding the invisible strike.

Watching how easily it had slaughtered the cadets, only one word formed in her mind: Invincibility.

---

A slow, mocking clap broke the silence.

On a branch high above, a small figure sat cross-legged: a girl in a brown hoodie, a heavy backpack on her back, and a large book adorned with spinning gears.

"I was looking for that," she said lightly. "I'm sorry for the trouble it caused."

She hopped down, landing gracefully between Gilly and the unseen predator.

Gilly's breath caught. There was something achingly familiar about the girl. A name rose unbidden, drawn from half-lost memories of a lab where children were gathered like broken dolls:

"Amy…"

The girl turned back to her, surprise flashing across her face.

"That's strange… was she supposed to know my name?" she murmured, speaking to the backpack as though it were alive.

The monster lunged—too fast for Gilly's eyes to follow.

Before Gilly could cry out, a hand emerged from Amy's backpack—pale and impossibly large—and dragged the creature inside as if it weighed nothing.

Two pairs Of eerie, glowing eyes peeked out from the opening, then vanished into the darkness of the pack.

Amy turned back to Gilly, her smile warm and oddly

gentle.

"I think he likes you."