Chapter 118: A Golden Crown

My player!

The God of Shapeshifters praised her.

Blanche didn't even have time to take a single step.

Her knees gave out beneath her.

They struck the still-warm sand as an invisible wave of power swept across the beach with overwhelming force. It wasn't physical pressure. Nothing actually touched her. Yet every fiber of her being screamed for her to bow, as though her soul recognized before her mind did that she stood before something infinitely older than herself.

Older than kingdoms.

Older than the gods.

Perhaps even older than the world itself.

She slowly lifted her head.

Fenrir hadn't moved.

Still motionless.

Still impossibly immense.

Yet something had changed.

He no longer resembled the wolf she knew.

Or rather...

He finally looked like what he had always been.

The wind died.

The waves slowed until they lapped almost silently against the shore, as though the ocean itself was holding its breath.

The sky seemed frozen.

Not a bird.

Not a sound.

Only that presence.

Overwhelming.

Majestic.

Terrifying.

Blanche realized she had stopped breathing. Her heart pounded so violently she could hear it echoing in her ears, yet her body stubbornly refused to obey. She wanted to look away, to catch her breath, to simply take a step back...

Impossible.

The god's heterochromatic gaze held her captive.

It wasn't threatening.

It didn't need to be.

His mere existence was enough to remind her how utterly insignificant she was before him.

And yet she knew Fenrir.

She had laughed with him.

Argued with him.

She had even found him insufferable at times.

And despite all that...

Only now did she truly understand why ancient civilizations had built legends around his name.

Why entire peoples had trembled at the thought of his awakening.

Why even the gods spoke his name with care.

He was monstrous.

Not through cruelty.

By nature.

He embodied such absolute power that no living being was ever meant to witness it without collapsing beneath its weight.

The sand slowly sank beneath her knees as the air itself became almost liquid around her, heavy with an ancient energy that seemed to make every grain of silica tremble.

And yet...

She knew this beach.

Every detail matched the memory engraved within her.

The endless sea.

The impossibly white sand.

The distant cliffs bathed in gentle light.

This was where she had found the Viking.

Where part of her destiny had begun.

As though this place had always been reserved for encounters capable of changing a life forever.

Then the ocean changed.

The waves, peaceful until now, began slowly circling an invisible point.

The movement intensified.

The sea parted.

Not violently.

With infinitely solemn slowness.

As though the ocean itself were performing a ritual forgotten since the birth of the world.

A golden light appeared in the depths.

Faint at first.

Then brighter and brighter.

Something was rising.

Blanche didn't dare even blink.

At last, the crown emerged from the water.

Massive.

Forged from ancient gold whose surface seemed to contain its own light, it bore no gemstones.

It needed none.

Delicate engravings ran along each of its branches, subtly shifting each time she looked at them, as though they refused to be fully understood by mortal eyes.

It didn't float.

It advanced.

With majestic slowness.

Almost ceremonially.

Every inch it traveled seemed to suspend time a little more.

The sea parted before it.

The wind remained silent.

Even the waves waited.

As though the entire universe were witnessing a coronation that had already taken place a thousand times before.

The crown rose until it was level with Blanche's eyes.

She didn't move.

She couldn't.

Nor did she bow her head.

It simply settled upon her brow.

The instant the metal touched her hair, a white light—so pure it bordered on painful—engulfed the entire beach.

Blanche instinctively shut her eyes.

Even through her closed eyelids, the radiance continued to blind her.

She felt her own power reach its absolute peak.

An immensity.

A force beyond measure.

For the span of a single breath, she truly felt like a queen in all her glory.

Then...

Everything receded.

Not abruptly.

Like the tide withdrawing.

Slowly.

The pressure crushing her body gradually lessened.

Air flowed into her lungs once more.

Her fingers regained their movement.

The invisible weight forcing her shoulders downward slowly dissolved until it vanished completely.

Blanche drew a deep breath, as though she were breathing for the first time in an eternity.

At that very moment, a gentle warmth bloomed within her chest.

Then a second.

Then a third.

One by one, with the same sacred slowness as the coronation she had just witnessed, the prerogatives of the Queen of Players engraved themselves into her—not as power seized or imposed, but as an inheritance finally returning to its rightful owner.

And as the last fragment of that power settled naturally into her soul, Blanche understood that nothing would ever be the same again.

Then the crown disappeared.

It still existed within her soul, but no longer as a physical object.

The familiar blue game window appeared.

Stats Acquired:

Title: Queen of Players

Strength: +101,699

Agility: +101,689

Speed: +101,609

Wisdom: +101,661

Intelligence: +101,701

Drain – Level 5

Flight – Level 5

Carnage – Level 5

Rest – Level 5

Swimming – Level 4

Aura – Level 5

Fear – Level 5

Black Heart – Level 5

Poison – Level 4

Lies – Level 3

Nightingale – Level 3

Choose one Special Skill:

Shadows – Level 2

Flame – Level 2

Time – Level 2

Blanche looked over the available rewards once more. The excitement that had surged through her when the system window first appeared faded almost immediately.

She couldn't choose to evolve her familiar.

A soft sigh escaped her.

When she thought about it, it made perfect sense. She had already received that evolution once before; the system simply refused to grant her the same privilege twice.

Frustrating...

But logical.

Her gaze drifted to the remaining options.

Without even realizing it, the battle against the Goblin Chief replayed in her mind with almost irritating clarity.

The slap that had sent her crashing into the wall.

The panic.

The precious seconds she'd wasted catching her breath.

Then the opening she'd created by stopping time...

Only to watch the skill end far too quickly.

Twenty seconds.

With just twenty seconds...

She would have had enough time to circle the monster completely, calmly choose the perfect angle, drive her axe all the way to the haft and probably decapitate him before reality itself had resumed flowing.

That thought alone settled the matter.

Her decision was made.

She selected Time.

At once, new information scrolled before her eyes.

The ability had improved dramatically.

The duration of the time stop doubled, increasing from ten seconds to twenty.

Even more impressive, the cooldown had been cut in half.

Twenty-four hours had become twelve.

A satisfied smile spread across Blanche's face.

It was no longer simply a useful ability.

It had become a genuine strategic asset.