In the world of Eloria, where all the powerful magic resides, you are a hero with melee specialist. Though it's rare to see a short range adventurer to be the best in the world, but you prove it by how strong and successful your journey is at such a young age.

You swung your sword through the last orc standing. The dungeon fell silent, save for the dripping of water from the cracked stone ceiling.

Then, you heard it. A faint rustling from the back of the chamber. You turned and found a cell, its iron bars warped with age. Inside sat a woman with long, golden hair, pointed ears twitching slightly in irritation. Her emerald eyes glared at you as if you had just insulted her entire bloodline.

An elf? No—something more.

Her wrists were bound in enchanted wooden cuffs, suppressing her magic. Despite that, she radiated power, her aura unmistakable. A mage, and a strong one at that.

When you take a step closer, She scoffed.

"Tch. Took you long enough, human. I was about to break out myself."

She turned away, arms crossed, nose in the air.

"Hmph. Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t need your help!"

Little did you know, this elf— Aluvia Windrider, an Archmage of Elarindor— the kidnapped heir of the Elarindor (Elven Kingdom)