Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

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"Impossible… this must be impossible!"

The female mage shook her head violently, trying to dispel the absurd thought in her mind.

The Tree of Life was a sacred existence—unique to the world of elves. Everyone knew there could only be one. The idea of a second one appearing here? Preposterous. Surely it was just a coincidence.

As she wrestled with her thoughts, a figure emerged—a slender elf with pointed ears and an unfamiliar, commanding presence.

"This… this isn't a type of elf I've ever seen," the mage muttered, a wave of unease creeping over her.

This wasn't the first surprise of the day. It was, in fact, the fourth time she had encountered someone—or something—that radiated overwhelming power. Each of these beings seemed stronger than the last, and all of them were unfamiliar.

Where did they all come from?

In the Shinra Empire, demigods didn't just spring out of nowhere. They were legends forged through centuries of trials, known by their deeds, their power etched into the annals of history. Yet here, these strangers appeared as if from thin air, each wielding strength that sent shivers down her spine.

"Take her to the Sunwell for a dip," Rhode's voice broke through her chaotic thoughts.

The elf at his side, clearly a figure of great importance, inclined her head slightly. She was the Sun Elf Queen, her aura regal and her golden radiance matching the brilliance of the ancient tree behind her. Without a word, she approached the female mage and gestured for her to follow.

The mage hesitated but knew resistance was futile. She trailed the queen to the edge of the Sunwell, a shimmering pool of molten gold that seemed alive, pulsing with vitality and power.

"Disrobe," the Sun Elf Queen commanded.

The mage felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment but complied, slipping into the radiant waters. As she lowered herself into the Sunwell, she cast a nervous glance toward Rhode, who remained under the Ancient Sun Tree, seemingly preoccupied.

Before she could process her thoughts, an unbearable heat surged through her body, forcing her to clench her teeth to avoid screaming.

Her blood felt as if it were being burned away, replaced by something far greater. Her very essence was being transformed, reshaped by the Sunwell's power. Pain and vitality mingled in equal measure as she felt her magic evolve.

She was no longer simply a wielder of fire magic; her flames had been exalted into something divine. They were no longer flames but the power of the sun itself—a power capable of burning even the gods.

"Not bad," Rhode said, his eyes briefly sweeping over her. "Your strength has undergone a significant transformation. From here on, even the weaker incarnations of gods won't dare look down on you."

The mage panted heavily, struggling to adapt to the overwhelming strength surging within her. Rhode's words barely registered in her mind as her senses reeled from the change.

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Rhode, meanwhile, turned his attention back to the Ancient Sun Tree, its radiant golden branches stretching high into the heavens.

He extended his hand, a small wound opening in his palm, allowing his blood to flow freely onto the tree's roots.

The tree trembled, its roots greedily absorbing his blood. Its branches expanded, growing thicker and more vibrant. But something peculiar occurred—two distinct hues began to form among its golden branches: one as dark as the abyss and the other as blue as the deep ocean.

From the main trunk, two additional branches grew rapidly. The first exuded a menacing aura, its patterns dark and intricate, pulsing with destructive energy. The second shimmered with a serene, oceanic glow, radiating a calming presence.

The transformation wasn't limited to the tree. The Sunwell rippled and divided itself into three distinct pools.

The Well of the Sun, burning golden and radiant.

The Well of the Night, as dark as starlit skies.

The Well of the Deep Sea, tranquil and sapphire blue.

Rhode's blood continued to fuel these changes, and soon the wells began to stir. Within the Well of the Night, something broke through the surface.

A soft pop echoed as the embryonic membrane burst, revealing a figure stepping forward.

She was a Night Elf—her skin a deep shade of violet, her leather armor revealing more than it concealed, and her every movement radiating an allure that was both enchanting and dangerous. Her sharp eyes glimmered with dark energy, and her aura spoke of destruction and seduction intertwined.

She approached Rhode, her movements like a predator's, and knelt before him with a devilish smile.

"Father," she purred, her voice dripping with charm.

Before Rhode could respond, another soft pop came from the Well of the Deep Sea.

This time, a figure emerged with an entirely different presence. The Deep Sea Elf had sky-blue curls cascading around her shoulders and wore a delicate veil that complemented her serene, ethereal beauty. Her every step was accompanied by rippling water, and her aura was gentle yet unshakably strong, like the tide itself.

"Father," she greeted, bowing respectfully, her voice soft and sweet, like a soothing melody.

The contrast between the two elves was stark—one exuded fiery passion, while the other embodied calm grace. Yet both radiated immense power, their potential on the cusp of breaking into the demigod realm.

Rhode's gaze flickered between the two as he evaluated them.

The Night Elf would be a force of destruction, her dark energy capable of overwhelming foes with raw power.

The Deep Sea Elf, on the other hand, represented healing and defense—a stalwart protector of her kin.

Each was perfect in their own right, and Rhode nodded with satisfaction.

"Rise," he commanded.

The two elves obeyed, their devotion apparent in their every movement. For Rhode, they were more than creations—they were weapons, allies, and a testament to his growing dominion.

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