Goddess Reborn: An Isekai LitRPG — The Mirror World Progression Saga

The ‘Wolf of Geirkosi Street,’ Samantha, tried to affect a blase, cocky attitude as she sent a mental communication to Glaelychus while flying on the Pegasus Vahishta to the meeting location. “I mean, it’s not the hugest deal, we didn’t have to go through all this, you know. I’m sure we’d both keep our word once given. Anyway… you sure are big into rules and order. Pretty hypocritical considering the shit you said as Devero.”

Glae seemed annoyed with the subject. “Wearing your heart on your sleeve under a guise is a bad idea when you’re trying to hide. I embrace the masks I wear. Mere shadows of the truth at most. You? You bleed right through everything you do. Everywhere you go, you’re stamping this ‘Samantha’ around. It will be child’s play to piece together for any serious investigator. You’re an amateur.”

Riding on the swift wings of Vahishta over forests, plains, and scattered farmlands, Sammy found herself sneering behind her helmet. Vahishta sympathetically made a disapproving horse sound.

She didn’t let it enter her mental voice, however. She laughed and sent, “Yet I’m still around? I’m getting stronger and stronger. I even ki-...” She almost admitted to killing the sage.

Fuck. I feel an innate competitiveness with him. “Ahem! Excuse me, I swallowed a bug. As I was saying, I killed a powerful Elementalist much higher level than me. I guess it's not up to the standards of the Mighty Glaelychus but I’m no slouch. And I’ve done it all under tremendous pressure and duress.”

“It’s all so impressive,” Glae answered with thick sarcasm. “When do you think you’ll be world-class? A month, a week? I’m anxious to see you stomp the City of Heavenly Order under your mighty boot. I’d like to know how long I have to prepare the parade.”

“Let’s give it a month. Maybe six weeks?”

“Such humility. My heart is touched tenderly.”

“Why did you kill the Meritosi Brothers?”

To her surprise, he gave a mental shrug and answered, “Personal, as was related to you. Revenge for the death of someone precious to me and meaningless to them. Innocent at that. I vowed to kill them by my own hand and I did. Their devil’s due was a long time coming. Answer me this in turn, Sam: was it order or chaos to fulfill? Justice or injustice?”

Sammy considered it. “All of the above, I guess. Order on a personal level, chaos to society which needs laws to follow. Justice for an innocent life taken by scumbags who’d kill again, injustice for the lack of a fair trial.”

Glae made a mental ‘sniff’ but sent, “Fair enough. I appreciate your nuanced take. It seems like you, somehow.” After a pause, he added, “I know you were at the battle, Sam. I know you defeated the sage in the spirit world. Hyginos shared everything. He is like a son to me, you should know.”

She felt a little sink in her gut — a little disappointment. Hyginos was… closed off, right then, as if to privacy.

Damn it. I kinda fucked up, but… how could I have known? Especially that Glae even knew anything, or that he would have something against me. As far as I knew, he’d dig me… but I should’ve been more cautious after realizing the Devero connection.

Jeeves interjected at this point. “My failing, Your Majesty. Some events rang out and felt necessary to update as it happened. The sage death was a great victory, after all. However, Hyginos could not reveal all because most intricate battle details weren’t spread… and I also put a firm gag order on the Zadkiel development, knowing you would want control of such revelation to certain parties.

“I mention so this disreputable character does not bait you into revealing what he does not know.”

Sammy was somewhat relieved to hear it. “Ah… thanks, Jeeves. This is why I leave my brain an open book to you in the first place. Zadkiel. Hmm. It could help smooth things at this point… I wonder if he knows Zaddy is still alive somewhere, though? If he has contact through Servitors and such.”

“A strong possibility, Madam.”

Sammy affected nonchalance as she answered Glae. “It’s just the nature of the beast when making allies and growing. Some have different loyalties. Aren’t we allies, though, Glae? Shouldn’t you be thanking me for my timely assistance?”

To this, Glae only seemed to glower sourly at her, with another feeling of suppressed passion.

Saving that for the meeting, huh? Ugh. This is going to be a fucking pill. Another unappreciative asshole. Rivals suck.

The elven council hall was quite a sight — something like a church cathedral but mostly one long building, with twin taller rises like square towers flanking it in the middle, the very tops coming to points. It had no walls but seemed designed to be fairly defensible. The stone was impeccable and pearlescent white with an aura of enchantment, with a roof made of some darker panels.

It was in a clearing in the forest, though weeds and saplings grew right up to the building, and vines climbed up it as well. Despite the pristine surface underneath and its lack of cracks, it was obviously not regularly occupied and kept up.

She landed at the front of it all, where tall double doors stood open. Thanking Vahishta for the ride, she approached the entrance slowly, in her relic armor and on alert. Above, two pegasi flew in a circle, keeping a lookout, while Vahishta in Angel-form, Seraphiel, and Porthos the Fairy Dragon stood at the ready behind her.

Inside the hall was a space designed for splendor, one giant long hall with a vaulted ceiling, the entire surface painted over with murals of elves in mythological scenes — a joyous meeting with sharing of foods here, a battle between two scowling swordsmen there.

These scenes looked down on a central, grand table of stone that could seat a hundred, with dainty ornate stone chairs still persistent. A few might’ve been missing, but that was all. Though she was sure she had not seen windows or openings, only stone indentations, sunlight filtered from these large, regular gaps, by appearance as if open to the air of nature outside.

This light was caught by crystalline elements on poles as well as inset into the center of the table, to reflect and illuminate the murals beautifully.

Sammy removed her helmet just to see it all better. Incredible. Ancient. Only magic could preserve all this.

The only marring of the beauty seemed to be from the deific beings depicted, such as one figure in a white dress holding her hands out in a prayer sign, which glowed with power… she and many others had their faces somehow smudged into unrecognizability.

“Not our doing, by the way,” Glaelychus said, his voice echoing powerfully in that hall, even at low base volume. He was standing by the table in the armor he’d had in the battle with the mask removed, and it appeared Klymene’s sword was at his belt. He held a chalice in his hand and a pitcher, perhaps of wine, sat on the table as the likely source.

Glae took a sip from his cup and continued, “The face-marring, I mean. The Sage’s spellcraft did it, one by one, as he murdered the gods. Wiping all memory but remnants enough to mystify and mourn. We’re left that, at least. Mead?” He raised an eyebrow and gestured at the pitcher. “It’s excellent.”

Sammy shook her head as she approached the table, still a significant distance from Glae. She placed her hands on the back of the ornate chair at the foot, glancing back at the painting of the goddess, before returning her gaze to Glae. “I’m sure the World Spell doesn’t help, either.”

“They’re interconnected. He draws from it to wipe away identity after death. Like an accelerant granted by Sympathetic achievement. Or perhaps a quest.”

“You know this? You seem to have rare knowledge. Have you managed to retain more than others over the centuries?”

He smiled faintly at her. “I’m not as old as some. As for the forgetfulness, diligence and adaptation are the names of the game. Re-learning the old slows down learning the new, but it cannot be sacrificed under any circumstances. We must remember our failures, our struggles… and our grudges.”

Sammy eyed him warily. “Yours is with the Sage, obviously. And the Dominion in general. I don’t have a grudge so much as an intention, but our enemy is entirely mutual. I will always work to undermine them, and I seek to destroy them, just as you.”

Staring at her expressionlessly momentarily, Glae took another sip of mead, then set it down. Slowly, silently, he walked over toward her.

Knowing it to be an intimidation play, Sammy refused to flinch. She waited and watched the whole way, finally turning from the chair back to face him. She had one advantage, at least in his chosen form: she was half a finger taller than him.

He stopped in front of her, locking his green eyes to hers. She realized he was not attempting any sort of power play of aural authority in this case. No invoking of classes. Still, she felt like he was weighing her, and between them, this very ‘natural’ sort of measuring was massively to his advantage.

‘How things are done.’ Yeah right. This is just his wheelhouse.

“Well met, Sam.” Glae suddenly thrust his hand out, as if for a shake. Sammy only briefly hesitated, dangers running through her head in a flash, but ultimately, she couldn’t refuse by way of her nature. She also just… couldn’t resist. The potential…

“Well met, Glae.” She took his hand.

Within the crystalline dragon construct, the Goddess of Fate, Magic, and Pneuma — Bo Fengshi — utilized the control wands and drew from the Endless Spring to cast a great spell down upon the battlefield, and she Twisted the conduits to spool out multiple spells in immediate succession, hoping to break through defenses.

One great bomb of spiritual disturbance enough to envelop a thousand, and volleys to hit hundreds more with each.

Once more, though, the Defiant One, the Isolator, the Fighter, worked his countering antimagic to halt her primary spell. The rest were mitigated by the power of resonant shields, making her grand effect not even kill a hundred soldiers.

The battle raged on, the martial prowess and discipline of her foe’s heavily-armored regiments ever the match for hers, with her forces’ magical support constantly well-snuffed. All the tricks she’d planned and brought to get around it had been at best mediocre in effect.

Casualties mounted and mounted on both sides.

Bo Fengshi howled in frustration as she glared through her portals at Guo Yong, flying in the air on his golden wings and glittering armor, long hair flowing as if in water, carrying in one hand the legendary Sword of Salt.

Through the psychic pathways she screamed at him, “Enough of this! We’ll be left with the tatters of two nations at this rate, Guo! We should be marching west — as one unstoppable force!”

Guo physically and mentally shook his head. “Bo, Bo, Bo… can you not see? Two hungry mouths full of sharp teeth cannot rest upon the same neck. One must be muzzled and then, what good is it?”

“This is exactly my meaning! If you tear out our throat, we both die!”

He sneered. “I’ve never been with you, fool! I’ll chop your head off, and mine will remain pristine. Gorgeous, even.”

“And then our enemy kills you, pristine or otherwise!”

To this, he laughed hysterically. “Let him try! Let him face me! Just as I have offered to you, though you reject the truth. Even now, I offer it. Face me one-on-one.”

She gazed down at the battlefield again, eyes wild. Hundreds perished every moment. Guo Yong would let hundreds of thousands die in the greatest bloodbath in history. Countless precious champions would lay among them. A Lake of Blood. That was her vision. How could she allow it? But how could she win against him at his own specialty? To duel was his life.

‘He seeks it even now like a thrill. Like he’s playing a game. Damn him! Damn him to play with lives. Where did I go wrong? How could I have steered us from this course?’

Guo howled in challenge as he pointed his blade. “Stop hiding behind your endless trash artifice and trickery! You insult me with it! Embrace who you are and accept the consequences of who reigns supreme! Fight me and end this!”

The Goddess of Fate stared back into those excited eyes and felt sadness. She knew she had failed again in that moment. Failed even before the final battle, because there was no option left that led to victory there. It was over before it even began.

In the real world, Sammy blinked, still holding her rival’s hand, still looking into his eyes. It was a brand new kind of dread.

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