Only a few days had passed since the end of the Royal Selection Tournament, yet Elizabeth Rousendahal was no longer the same young woman who had stepped into the coliseum with doubt in her soul and borrowed blood in her gaze. Something had shifted. Perhaps it was the clash between Narel and Dren. Or maybe it was the image of Mayron—his magical armor, his modular staff, and the way he wielded each enchanted tool with a grace that bordered on dance—defending himself even against a monster like Dren.
That image sparked something in her:
What if I had gear like that? Something crafted just for me?
That very night, without pause or rest, she summoned the finest artisans in the kingdom: alchemists from the mountain heartlands, jewelers who carved spells into gems, blacksmiths who forged with enchanted steel, and enchanters capable of weaving magic into the thinnest strand of silk. Her instructions were clear:
"I don't want conventional weapons. I need tools that respond to my will. Invisible—until the moment they're needed."
The project came together swiftly. The first result of this elite collaboration was the dual summoning set: a pair of earrings forged from refined Bloodsteel, with embedded runic cores and black gems. Each earring sealed a contract with a legendary magical creature—two black alpha wolves.
These were no ordinary beasts. They were former champions of the Deepwood, tamed through ancient magic and fed for months on moon mushrooms, basilisk meat, and mana-rich fruits. Each of them was twice the size of a standard black wolf—which, even on its own, dwarfed any wolf Elizabeth had ever known in her former world.
One was male, the other female. Both alphas. Both built for war.
Each wore a lightweight battle harness: rune-treated leather with floating metal plates and a saddle tailored for mounted combat. Their speed eclipsed that of any steed, and their strength was great enough to uproot small trees with a single lunge.
A perfect escape route, thought Elizabeth. One to ride… and the other to buy me time.
The wolves were bound to her by contract, slumbering in a dimensional stasis pocket, ready to be summoned if the earrings broke, if she called them by name… or if her heartbeat reached a critical state.
But that wasn't enough. Not for the war ahead.
The earrings were just the beginning. Elizabeth had no intention of being the kind of princess who needed to be protected. Not anymore.
The second most vital item was the Phoenix Belt.
It was discreet, slim, nearly invisible beneath her dresses. Devoid of flashy gems or excessive ornamentation, it carried an ancient and powerful magic. Woven from threads of living fire and inscribed with regenerative runes, the belt did more than protect—it granted a second life.
If she were mortally wounded, the belt would automatically trigger: sealing wounds, restoring vital organs, and even purging toxins from her system. Elizabeth knew one thing for certain:
"No matter what happens… if I fall, I will rise."
Then came the set of combat jewelry—subtle, but deadly.
On her left hand, she wore a precision ring, a runic artifact linked to a matching bracelet on her wrist. With a simple motion—mimicking the act of drawing a bow—an ethereal crimson bow would manifest in her hands, complete with a gleaming energy arrow.
At first glance, it seemed like a basic trick. But she quickly learned that her natural limit was astounding: nine shots before her mana reserves ran dry.
"A common awakened mage only manages three," her master had said with a rare smile. "Your soul is far more awake than you know."
The ring enhanced her aim to match that of a trained archer. The challenge, however, was in the arrows: conjured from her own mana, each one had to be programmed before release. For now, she could only create basic impact arrows—powerful enough to cause real harm, but still weaker than the enchanted arrows used by most royal soldiers.
On her right hand, she wore a different ring—the Sigil of the Invisible Blade.
With a simple motion, mimicking the act of unsheathing a sword, a weapon of pure energy would manifest in her grip. Its shape followed her will, guided by the martial runes engraved into the ring. The blade was solid enough to cleave iron, yet light enough to swing with ease. Not a perfect weapon—but the perfect extension of someone who needed to react instantly.
On her opposite wrist, she wore a defensive bracelet. When raised in a blocking motion, it would project a circular, semi-transparent shield strong enough to absorb mid-level physical attacks and lesser spells. A last line of defense—but an essential one.
And resting against her throat was one of the most personal artifacts: the Necklace of Inner Resilience.
Forged from lunar salt crystal and the essence of purified morning dew, the necklace had two key functions: it neutralized all poisons within her body and accelerated her natural healing, allowing damaged tissue to regenerate in minutes.
"How I wish I'd had this months ago…" she thought, trying it on for the first time with a touch of irony.
Would you like me to continue with the next part of the chapter—Elizabeth's enchanted shoes, her transforming dresses, and the scene of their departure with the unicorns?
Her other wrist bore a bracelet of immediate defense. When she raised her forearm in a blocking gesture, the bracelet responded by summoning a circular, semi-transparent shield—strong enough to repel mid-range physical attacks and lower-tier spells. A last-resort tool… but a crucial one.
Around her neck rested one of her most personal artifacts: the Necklace of Inner Resilience.Crafted from lunar salt crystal and the essence of purified dew, it served two vital purposes: neutralizing any poison in her body, and accelerating her natural healing to the point of regenerating damaged tissue in minutes.
"How useful this would've been a few months ago..." she thought as she tried it on, a mix of irony and rueful hindsight in her smile.
And finally—her enchanted shoes, a masterpiece of magical precision.
Two specific enchantments turned what appeared to be ordinary heels into indispensable survival tools:
– If she clicked the heels together, all sound generated by her body—footsteps, breathing, the rustling of her clothes—vanished. Perfect auditory invisibility.– If she tapped the toe against the ground, her body's weight would drastically decrease without affecting her strength, allowing her to leap like a cat, run with acrobatic grace, and perform movements that would otherwise require rigorous physical training.
Now she was ready.Not just as an heir.Not just as a witness to the coming storm.But as someone who could endure it, shape it, and carve her own path through it.
But Elizabeth didn't stop there.She ensured that all her clothing was redesigned from the ground up. Every dress—without sacrificing elegance or imperial sophistication—was reconstructed with enchanted fibers: flexible, breathable, and four times lighter than traditional noble fabric. A discreet transformation spell was woven into each one, allowing the garments to change, with a single motion, into a sleek combat-ready outfit. Something worthy not just of a princess… but of a heroine in a spy epic.
"Beauty, yes. Vulnerability? Never again."
And then, at last… the day came.
The Celestial Palace awoke to fluttering banners, sunlight cascading over a procession of carriages adorned with protective runes. But what truly stole Elizabeth's breath were the steeds.
They were not ordinary horses.They were unicorns—creatures of legend. Towering, majestic, their silver-white coats shimmered like moonlight woven into mist. From each noble forehead rose a spiraling horn, crystal-pure, ancient as starlight.
—"Unicorns...?" she whispered, barely believing her eyes.
And for the first time in ages, Elizabeth Rousendahal acted her age. Not the woman with burdens of empire. Not the wielder of prophetic dreams. Just a girl of thirteen… marveling at magic.
She stepped forward slowly, half-afraid she might startle them. But the unicorns—sensing the reverence in her heart—lowered their heads in calm greeting. She reached out with trembling fingers, touching their coats that felt softer than any silk, more radiant than any velvet. One of them even let her hug its neck, its body glowing faintly as though blessing her in return.
—"Ahem…"A refined voice broke the moment.
Her personal butler stood nearby, tall and thin, immaculately dressed, his gloves white as snow and a living ledger floating beside him.
—"Your Highness," he said with gentle formality. "It is time. Please, follow me."
Elizabeth straightened, smoothed her gown, and walked with royal composure toward the main carriage—trying to pretend she hadn't just been cuddling unicorns like a starstruck child.
Inside, her travel companions awaited her:
Prince Narel, half-asleep before even taking his seat.
Prince Dren, arms crossed, wearing an expression that said, "I'd rather be anywhere else."
Prince Mayron, perfectly groomed, perfectly tense, perfectly ignoring Dren.
Lord Vincent, her master, calm and steady as a snow-covered mountain.
Sir Velndora, her silent, watchful bodyguard whose gaze spoke louder than words.
And of course, a detachment of elite knights, a handpicked entourage, and the royal escort—guarding the convoy as if it were the crown itself in motion.
All the princes, with their respective aides, would ride in the main carriage alongside Elizabeth on their journey to the Kingdom of Vhalmir.
Five days. Five days by carriage.
Why not a portal?Because the laws forbade it.
According to inter-realm treaties of neutrality, transporting armed personnel, weapons, or magical security forces via teleportation was strictly prohibited.And so, the old ways had returned: wheels on stone, hooves on earth.
The unicorns reared softly. The wheels began to turn.The Celestial Palace faded behind them.
And Elizabeth sighed.
She was about to spend five days trapped in a moving room with:
A prince who slept more than he spoke.
A prince who refused to look at the other.
A prince who pretended that the previous didn't exist (hard to do after Dren publicly floored him).
A teacher who could out-silence a ghost.
And a bodyguard who might as well have been carved from stone.
"Well…" she muttered in resignation."At least I'll get to study magic."
Five days.Five very awkward days.