Prologue

Blue pulled her black cloak tighter around her shoulders, casting a wary glance over one shoulder.

Nothing unusual.

Just the usual hush and bustle of those who operated in the dark. No ordinary players dared linger in the alleys of Ridgenhorn—deep within the empire’s capital, these streets belonged to a different breed.

In this part of the city, even the NPCs had ties to crime syndicates. Power wasn’t optional here. It was survival.

And that made it the perfect hideout for a woman like her.

You didn’t walk these alleys unless you were dangerous.

Or desperate.

Blue used to be neither.

Just weeks ago, life had been normal. She’d been expanding her merchant empire into new kingdoms, the task going off without a hitch. And her latest innovation—the mana burst potion—had earned her so much EXP, she’d finally hit Level 200.

That number sounded impressive to outsiders—but the truth was, after nearly fifteen years since Thirian’s launch, hitting Level 200 wasn’t as rare as it once had been. For the dedicated, reaching it had become a long-expected milestone. It marked the end of one journey, but not the start of anything truly elite.

No—the real line in the sand was Tier Five.

Most players sat comfortably at Tier Three or Four, even the famous ones. Progressing to Tier Five wasn’t just about level anymore. It was about refinement. Insight. Control. A test of how deeply you understood your class, your magic, your place in Thirian's intricate systems.

Reaching Level 200 opened the door.

Ascending to Tier Five meant stepping through it.

Blue had never played Thirian to climb leaderboards or chase infamy—her joy came from being a part of her son’s world and from the wonder she found in alchemy and herbology. The delicate balance of reagents. The way a single drop of nightshade extract could shift an elixir’s entire behavior. From turning theory into tangible, elegant solutions—her knowledge and inventions stood on a level comparable to the best NPCs in the game. And unlike them, she had the creative touch that allowed her to invent and refine the pinnacle of her craft.

But despite all that, when the bottleneck broke and the Tier 5 qualification arrived, she couldn’t help herself. Curiosity tugged at her like gravity. What was it really like beyond the ceiling? What lay past perfection? What would an advanced brew tempered with Tier 5 magic result in?

Thoughts of this notion led her to seek out the answer.

The Tower of Magic stood at the heart of Arenthia—a place only those seeking a deeper understanding of magic would visit. The NPC mages were just as fanatical, so it took a high affinity with them to even be granted a member card.

Luckily, since Blue joined the game, scholarly pursuits had always been the road she traveled—so all it took was flashing her gold card.

Ancient runes layered sixfold into the floor—one for each Tier.

She stood alone in the chamber, the game around her silent, as though the servers themselves held their breath.

She stepped into the circle and drew her mana inward.

The moment her hands moved into the opening sequence, everything changed.

The world dimmed. Sound vanished. Light pooled from the runes beneath her feet, rising in silent spirals. One tier… two… three… the colors shifting from silver to gold to violet flame. Her control was absolute—mana responded like a river finding its source.

Then came Tier Four. A burst of pressure against her mind, like air thinning at altitude.

And finally: Five.

The world shattered.

For a moment, she wasn’t Blue anymore. She was mana itself—a luminous thread woven into the fabric of Thirian. She could feel every leyline beneath the surface of the digital world, every crafted potion humming in distant inventories. The balance of magic—its hunger, its joy, its motion—all of it was hers to understand.

And then the world rushed back.

She gasped and fell to one knee, glowing still, her hands trembling. Notifications popped in the corner of her HUD.

Congratulations. You are the 31st player to reach the realms of demigods.

Her rewards were plentiful.

But she ignored them.

All she could feel was wonder.

Not power. Not conquest. Wonder.

She’d ascended.

She had reached the realm only thirty others had ever touched.

She whispered it to herself, just to hear it aloud.

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“Tier Five.”

She’d been proud. Elated.

But it didn’t take long for that to change.

How did I end up here? she thought bitterly, eyes on the cobblestones. How did everything fall apart so fast?

Reaching Tier Five had not gone unnoticed for too long, and she hadn’t kept it a secret—nor had she broadcasted it. Blue had, in the beginning, been busy shutting down guild invites, TV interviews, and the like.

Fame was not entirely new, with her empire’s notoriety, but Tier Five garnered a whole new kind of fanfare.

Not long after her success, Frost had stopped coming home for their Sunday dinners.

She had thought him busy, but when he kept dodging her calls, she finally snapped and sought the man out at his flat—only to learn that his guild, seemingly out of nowhere, had designs on her company.

He’d been too ashamed to tell her the trouble they were causing him.

His guild had made unreasonable requests. Knowing he was her sole heir, they had demanded that he—and by extension, she—become a vessel shop under their guild.

They wouldn’t hear of his refusal. In fact, they dug up the contracts he’d signed as an 18-year-old.

The lawyers he’d hired had shaken their heads. He had, unknowingly, signed a 50-year contract stating he would strive to better Red Fang in-game, and that all assets accumulated while under contract were the property of the guild. Its value and shares would be run and operated under the discretion of the guild elders.

Frost had argued her company had nothing to do with him.

But it was there in writing—when she opened her merchant company, 50% of the shares had been placed in his name. Upon her demise, it would all be his.

And since her company opened after his joining of the guild, under the laws of Thirian, his shares were rightfully the guild’s shares.

For him to forcefully terminate his membership, there would be a hearing with the residing kingdom his guild operated from—and from there, his fate would befall the mood of the Magister of Rule.

Frost had felt cornered and had ultimately chosen.

Rather than let them take everything, Frost had quit the game and would never log in again, all to protect her company.

Meaning—he chose exile.

And Blue… couldn’t undo it.

He wouldn’t hear of it when she begged him to fight the contracts, to let her hire new lawyers. He had just shook his head. And as the days passed, the light in his eyes dimmed, and he regressed to his former self—the same boy that had once lost the use of his legs.

The joy and function Thirian had given him… once more, gone.

I did this, she thought. Trying to give him everything… I gave them the weapon to destroy him.

Blue shock of the memories shed arrived at the spot mentioned to her by the broker..

She took in the unassuming door weary yet resolved, she knocked three times.

A voice from inside asked, “Who goes there?”

“It’s me,” she said quietly. “Blue.”

Several clicks followed as heavy locks were unlatched. The door creaked open.

Inside, two players sat at a rickety table, drinks in hand. Both turned to watch her as she entered. She moved with purpose—silent and confident—and took a seat beside them.

From beneath her cloak, she produced a basic magical pouch and placed it on the table.

The woman nearest to her, her stats fully blurred, took it and inspected the contents.

“150,000 gold,” she said flatly.

“200 stacks of advanced fire resistance potions.”

“100 stacks of intermediate ice resistance potions.”

“Three stacks of death penalty reduction scrolls.”

She passed the pouch to her companion—a quiet man with a low voice and sharp eyes. He nodded, satisfied.

“I looked into your son’s guild,” he said at last. “And I uncovered the real reason they went after him.”

Blue’s breath hitched. Her eyes locked onto him.

“On the surface, it looks like they were after your wealth—your empire. And when he refused to sell you out, they retaliated. That’s the story. But I found rumors going back nine years. Whispers… of Tier Five players disappearing without a trace.”

Blue’s brow furrowed. “Frost is Tier Four. Talented, yes, but not lost. That doesn’t explain—”

“It’s not him they want,” the man said softly. “It’s you.”

Blue froze.

“You’re the Tier Five,” he continued. “You reached that realm. Red Fang wants to get to you—and they’re using Frost to do it. Your empire is just the excuse. You’re the real threat.”

She felt like the breath had been punched from her lungs.

“You mean… because of me, they banned him?” she whispered. “I don’t understand. I’m Tier Five, yes—but I’m not a combatant. My experience is mostly from potion crafting. Surely they know that.”

The man scoffed. “You’re not called the Goddess of Mana for nothing. Triple-cast speed, unmatched precision, global influence. You not fighting isn’t because you can’t.”

Blue looked away, jaw tight. “So what, they punished my son because I wouldn’t play their game?”

“That’s the theory,” he said. “And there’s more. The Tier Five players who disappear? The ones who do resurface always end up rich—protected. Tied to one of the top ten guilds in the world.”

Her head throbbed. “And the ones who don’t resurface?”

He shook his head. “I tried every channel I’ve got. Nothing. They vanish.”

Silence settled over the room like fog.

“My advice?” he added quietly. “If you want Frost back in Thirian—and don’t want to vanish yourself—comply. This world stopped being a game long before launch.”

Things were not making sense. But one thing was clear—she wouldn’t let it end like this.

No. Frost loved Thirian. She wouldn’t be the reason he lost it.

She rose slowly. She nodded once toward the two spies, then pulled her cloak close.

Without another word, she vanished into the night.

Retirement sounded just about right.

If it was Green Dawn they wanted in exchange for Frost’s return… then they could have it.

Yet a nagging feeling whispered in her mind.

This can’t be it. There are secrets… secrets only the top guilds know. And somehow, they all tie back to me—

to being Tier Five.