Elena found herself in the heart of the open networking event, where the flow of people and the buzz of conversation filled the space. Small clusters of adventurers, guild representatives, and recruiters mingled, exchanging pleasantries and proposals beneath the clear sky. The scene was less organized than a typical recruitment fair that Elena had vague memories of back from Earth. There were no tents or booths, just people mingling and trying to make connections in the open courtyard of the academy.

She sat on the edge of a low stone fountain, trying to maintain a semblance of peace amidst the chaos. Her white hair caught the light and small droplets of water, making her hard to miss, and soon enough, people started approaching her. One by one they came—some as members of established groups looking for a new addition, sometimes a representative from a more formal adventuring party. Frequently they would try to impress her with polished speeches and promises.

And sometimes, like the one in front of her, it was a solo adventurer looking to form a team. The lone swordsman was young and eager, and he sat down next to her with a wide grin. "Hey, I've heard of you—Elena, right? You've got a reputation for being tough. How about teaming up? I've got a few others in mind, and we could really make a name for ourselves!"

Elena raised an eyebrow, rather unimpressed. Sure, his enthusiasm was palpable, but he reeked of desperation, like he was trying to recruit her out of necessity. She could see in his eyes that she was going to be his angel investor to recruit the others he wanted. He wasn't thinking strategically, just chasing after anyone who looked strong or had a name for themselves.

"First off, hi there. I'm Elena, who are you?" she asked, maintaining a neutral expression.

"Oh. Uh, Hi. I'm Kieran. Kieran Thorne," he replied, caught off guard by her directness.

"Hi Kieran. Let me ask you a question. Why do you want to team up? Is it because of my reputation?"

"Well...I uh heard you were strong and between your recognition and reputation and my go-get-em attitude I'm certain we'd be the best team!" Kieran stammered, his confidence faltering slightly.

With a polite but firm decline, she sent him on his way, watching as his shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. 'Well, crap,' she thought to herself. 'That was kind of a dick thing to do.'

Next, a pair of adventurers from the "Ironfang brotherhood" sidled up to her, one of them flashing a confident smile while the other crossed his arms, trying to look intimidating. "We're from a group that gets things done. We're no nonsense. We've heard you're no pushover, and we like that. You'll join us, and you'll be part of a team that doesn't mess around."

Elena sighed as she looked at the two of them. She took a sip of her water and held out her drink offering them one. The intimidating one grabbed for it and drained her glass.

'Rude,' she thought to herself before asking the two of them a question. "Hi, My name is Elena."

"We know who you are. You're the infamous Demon who is—"

"I'd prefer to know your name if we're going to be chatting," Elena interrupted, her patience wearing thin.

"I am Gareth," the one holding her empty drink said. "This is Rurik," he motioned with her empty glass.

"Gareth and Rurik, if I may ask, you say you don't mess around—What happens when things don't go according to plan?" Elena inquired, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp.

"They always go to plan," Gareth said as if there was no other possibility to be true.

"Yes, but—" Elena started to ask before she was interrupted.

"Things go to plan because when things don't we make them happen," Gareth once said.

Elena envisioned a really bad time with this particular team but asked the question anyway. "So what happens if things start to go wrong?"

Rurik spoke up. "When things start to go sideways, we do whatever we can to complete the mission. As far as your safety is concerned, we don't throw away the weapons we have. You'd be safe. Of course if you have others, we'd try our best to keep them safe too. But we're not babysitters."

"So just to recap," Elena said as she gave them a deadpan look. "No matter what, no matter who, the mission gets completed. There's no need to care about people, or who does what. I'd be your weapon, and so long as I perform as a good weapon I get to stay at the big boys table and don't have to worry. But if I fail to be the weapon you need you're going to possibly get rid of me like a broken blade?"

To their credit they didn't look away from her. They also didn't deny her version of their sales pitch. "Yeah, no," she shook her head. "First off, don't order me to join your team. Second, I'm not interested in being someone's weapon. Find someone else to do your dirty work."

They exchanged glances, taken aback by her directness and quickly excused themselves.

Then there was a representative from a rather well-known group, the "Sunfire Blades." She approached Elena with a practiced smile, and introduced herself with a smooth pitch. And once the pleasantries were done extolled the virtues of her team, the connections they had and the wealth they promised. "With your skills and our resources, we could accomplish great things. You'd be well compensated, of course, and you'd have all the support you need."

"Ok, so you've talked a lot about wealth and resources, but what about loyalty? What happens when the gold runs out? Are your people still there for each other?" Elena asked, her arms crossed.

The woman listened to Elena's questions and seemed to answer them fully and thoroughly. She explained how other teams that were run by previous members are like well-oiled machines and how they all have camaraderie. Elena listened, arms crossed, but the more the woman talked, the less interested she became. It was all too...polished. Too transactional. The offer sounded more and more like it came from a merchant, not an adventurer. The promises of wealth and connections felt hollow, and Elena wasn't looking for handouts. She cut the woman off mid-sentence with a curt "I'm not for sale," and watched as the representative blinked in surprise before offering even more money. Elena took her information down but never really intended to call her.

As more people came and went, each with their own failed attempts to sway her, she found herself growing more irritated. Whether it was through arrogance, desperation, or slick sales tactics, they all seemed to miss the mark entirely. 'God. They don't understand me! They don't even bother trying!' she thought to herself. She wasn't interested in being bullied, and being pressured pissed her off more than anything. And after what Lele said before they left town, she didn't want to make a decision she'd regret later. Thoughts of Lily and Lele made her a bit sad, but she knew what she had to do.

She envisioned Lele looking at her and making her promise to give this the good ol' college try, and she really wanted to. But everyone else so far just felt...wrong. She knew that temporary teams were going to be joined soon and if she didn't find at least one teammate she was just going to get thrown in with anyone, but she wanted someone she had at least some semblance of a connection with. 'Alright, I'll be more fair with the next person that comes by,' she thought to herself as she patiently waited. 'Maybe I'd do better if I did the approaching,' she thought to herself, but that was quickly shot down as she saw the next one wanting to offer her a proposal.

His confident stride, perfectly tailored armor and the unmistakable air of entitlement all screamed nobility. As he neared, he flashed her a charming smile that seemed practiced, like he'd done this a thousand times before.

"Ah, Elena Vale isn't it?" he said smoothly, taking a seat beside her without waiting for an invitation. Before she could even respond, he casually rested his hand on her leg, as if they were already the best of friends. He smoothed out the skirt first, as if clearing off a spot before leaving it there. "I'm Alistair Devereaux, son of Lord Devereaux from the Eastern Territories. I've been hearing about you, and I must say I'm impressed. I'm putting together a team, and I think you'd be a perfect fit."

Elena stiffened at the touch, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked down at his hand. But Alistair seemed oblivious, continuing with his pitch as if he hadn't noticed her discomfort.

"You see, I've been watching you," he continued smoothly, his voice dripping with a practiced ease. "You're not like the others here. You're looking for something real, something meaningful. And I think I can offer you that."

Her irritation didn't fade in the slightest, but curiosity started showing up at his words. This was the first time someone actually bothered to acknowledge what she wanted. But she remained wary, her eyes moving from his hands to his face.

"Unlike those plebeians, my team isn't just about fame and fortune," he said, leaning in slightly. "We're about camaraderie. Real connections. You see, I'm not just interested in forming a team—I want a group that feels like family. People who will stand by you no matter what. No one's above anyone else. Titles and money don't matter in the thick of battle, right?"

Elena blinked in surprise. It was...exactly what she'd been hoping to hear from someone—anyone. Companionship, loyalty, a sense of belonging. Friendship with each other. The kind of people that after a long day you get a beer with not because you're obligated to, but because you love their company and want to hear the same stupid story over and over. Real friendship.

Yet the way he said it, with that lazy smile, and his hand gently rubbing her thigh, made her skin crawl.

"We'll take on challenges together, face down whatever comes our way," Alistair continued, oblivious to—or perhaps enjoying—her internal struggle. "And when the day's done, we're there for each other. No games. No politics. No religion. Just real, down-to-earth teamwork. Exactly what you're looking for, isn't it?"

She stared at him for a moment, almost willing herself to believe he was genuine. But the sleazy undertone in his voice, the way he leaned in too close, the breathy way he whispered into her ear, told her everything she needed to know. He was using the right words, but for all the wrong reasons. So she decided to test him.

"Alistair, what happens when things get tough?" her voice remained steady as she continued her question. "When there's no glory to be had, and it's just you and your team in the thick of it? Are you still there for them?"

Alistair chuckled softly, clearly amused by her question. He gave her a sideways glance, his hand still resting on her leg. It traveled down towards her knee but as soon as he got there, his hand hit her bare skin and then it started traveling back up to where it was before. He gently patted her leg in an affectionate way. "Come on Elena. Don't overthink it. You're missing the point. The whole reason to have a team, a family, is so that you don't have to face the tough stuff alone. We'll all stick together, because that's how we get through it— and come out on top. It's about making sure that everyone pulls their weight so we all get what we deserve. I take care of my own, because that's how I win."

Elena's eyes narrowed slightly. His words sounded good, but beneath the veneer of camaraderie, she heard the underlying selfishness. He wasn't talking about loyalty because he valued it—he was talking about it because it served his interests. The idea of teamwork for him wasn't about mutual respect, it was a means to an end, a way to ensure his own success.

"So as long as they're useful to you, right?" she asked, her voice colder now.

Alistair's smile didn't falter, and he leaned in slightly, his tone lowering as if sharing a secret. "Yes. That's what a good team is for. We help each other out and in the end, we all get what we want. You wouldn't have to worry about a thing, Elena." He finally removed his hand from her leg and reached behind her, putting his arm on her shoulder, his fingers landed near the hem of her blouse and his fingers slipped just under it. He motioned with his other hand towards the rest of the people in a grandiose gesture. "By my side you'd be a part of something bigger, something guaranteed to succeed." His fingers starting moving in a circular motion on top of her breast.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

That was the final straw. Elena felt her patience snap as his words confirmed her suspicions. This wasn't the kind of person she wanted to be around, much less fight beside. Before he could react, she reached up and moved his arm from her shoulder with a firm decisive motion.

"Get your hands off of me," she said, her voice cold and controlled. "You might be saying what I want to hear, but I'm not interested in your version of 'Family.' If you think I'd join your team just because you know how to sweet talk, you're mistaken. I'm not your tool."

Alistair blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting such a harsh reaction. He quickly tried to recover, flashing a charming smile as if he could smooth things over. "Hey, no need to be so serious, Elena. I didn't mean to offend you. Just thought we'd be a good match, you know? I look out for my team, and by my side you'd have everything you need. A warm bed, food in your belly, company, a—"

But she wasn't having it. She took a step back, her gaze hardening as she looked down at him. "I'm serious because this is my life—not some noble's pastime. And if you doubt my seriousness, look to Reggie for an example of how I like to blow off steam for creeps."

A little later Elena was sitting in the stands of the training arena, her eyes scanning the students sparring and practicing their skills below. Many of the students looked to have all sorts of cool powers and abilities. But what really grabbed her eye was one particular student who moved with an almost supernatural speed.

The fighter was a blur of motion, darting between opponents with a fluid grace that seemed to defy the laws of physics. The armor they wore looked like something out of a futuristic video game, sleek and impossibly advanced. Its outer layer was a dark, reflective material that seemed to drink in the light around it, giving it an almost eerie, otherworldly glow. Intricate patterns of what appeared to be glowing runes snaked across the surface, pulsing with a soft blue light. Elena had no idea what they meant, but they gave the armor an almost mystical aura, like it was alive and breathing in sync with its wearer.

As the armored figure moved, the suit seemed to flow with them, not in the stiff, clunky way Elena expected from such high-tech looking gear, but fluidly, almost like a second skin. It hugged the fighter's form perfectly, giving them an athletic, masculine silhouette. Elena couldn't tell if the person inside was that built or if the armor itself provided the defined physique.

The centerpiece of the armor was a strange device embedded in the chest plate. It looked like a miniature reactor, humming with energy. Elena could see tiny lights flickering on its surface, as if it was constantly processing information and adjusting itself.

The fight intensified as three opponents charged at the armored fighter simultaneously. With a grace that seemed almost choreographed, the figure ducked under a high kick, the attack missing by mere millimeters. In the same fluid motion, they spun away from a punch aimed at their midsection, the fist grazing the armor with a metallic screech.

The third attacker, wielding a staff, brought their weapon down in an overhead strike. For a split second, Elena thought it would connect. But at the last possible moment, the armored fighter sidestepped, letting the staff whoosh past them. They then grabbed the weapon, using the attacker's momentum to flip them over their shoulder.

Without missing a beat, the fighter activated the weapon integrated into their right arm. It looked almost like a futuristic gun, but instead of bullets, it fired a pulse of energy that sent one of the remaining opponents flying backwards.

The last attacker, seeing an opening, lunged forward with a series of rapid punches. But the armored figure moved like water, their body twisting and bending in ways that seemed impossible, each punch missing by the narrowest of margins. It wasn't just evasion; it was an elegant dance, a display of skill and precision that left Elena breathless.

As the attacker tired, the armored fighter struck back. Their movements were a blur, fists and feet connecting with pinpoint accuracy. Each strike looked effortless, yet Elena could see the impact as their opponent staggered back.

In a final, dazzling display, the fighter looked at their last standing opponent, did this little running motion in place, pointed at them, and then feigned being scared and falling over. Their opponent started charging up some acidic attack. But when they looked back at their opponent to cast the spell, the armored fighter vanished, reappearing directly in front of the stunned opponent, arm cannon primed and ready. The sheer speed was so fast that a gust of wind billowed back the caster’s clothes who nearly jumped out of their shoes and fell on their ass.

The fight was over. The armored figure stood victorious, surrounded by their defeated opponents. They looked up to the stands, waved at the crowd in Elena's section, and then sprinted out of the building, moving so fast they seemed to disappear.

Elena sat there, stunned by what she'd just witnessed. The speed, the grace, the sheer skill of it all – it was unlike anything she'd ever seen. The Arena helpfully provided the fighter's name: Zara Thaltis. But instead of showing a picture of their face, the bio displayed a zoomed-in image of the armor. Elena wondered if Zara was the armor itself or if it was some sort of incredible power.

She watched another set of fighters take over, but after the exquisite display she'd just witnessed, their moves seemed dull and predictable in comparison.

"Enjoying the show?" a voice called out, followed by a soft thud as someone plopped down next to Elena. The newcomer stretched her legs out, seemingly oblivious to the way her toned muscles rippled with each movement. Dressed in a simple black sports bra and snug-fitting yoga pants, she looked like she'd just stepped out of an intense workout.

Elena turned to find herself face to face with a girl who practically radiated confidence. Beads of sweat glistened on her dark bronze skin, and her raven-black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, a few rebellious strands framing her angular face. Bright, mischievous eyes met Elena's, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

"Not really," Elena admitted, gesturing to the current fighters. "I mean, they're fine, but I just saw this incredible fight earlier. There was this person in the arena, and they were absolutely mind-blowing. Moved like lightning, had this futuristic armor that seemed alive, and an arm cannon that sent opponents flying. It was unlike anything I've ever seen."

The girl's eyebrow quirked up, her smirk widening. "Sounds like quite the show. Let me guess, tall, dark, and armored? Moves so fast you'd swear they're teleporting?"

Elena nodded eagerly. "Exactly! It was honestly one of the most impressive things I've ever seen. Oh, I'm Elena, by the way. Elena Vale." She held out her hand.

"Zara," the girl replied, clasping Elena's hand firmly. "Zara Wrantoris Thaltis. Glad you enjoyed the performance."

Elena's eyes widened in recognition. "Wait, that was you? But... you look so different without the armor!"

Zara chuckled, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "What, did you think I slept in that thing? Hell no. Uncomfortable as the hells. Although, I have to say, your fight's the one everyone's really talking about. Heard you turned Reginald into your personal punching bag. Now that's impressive."

Elena chuckled, a mix of pride and a touch of disbelief in her voice. "It was intense. I didn't really have time to think about it at the moment. Just did what I had to do. It's still sinking in, honestly."

Zara leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Oh, come on. You can't just casually mention kicking Reginald's ass and leave it at that. Spill it, Demon Queen. Was it as satisfying as I remember?"

Elena's expression turned a bit more serious. "It was... brutal. Reginald's not just strong, he's ruthless. He nearly cut me in half with this plasma sword thing. The pain was excruciating, but my healing ability kicked in."

She paused, her eyes distant as she recalled the fight. Her hands subconsciously went to her belly. "The problem was, my healing kept me conscious through it all. I felt every nerve ending, every wound closing. It was like being tortured and saved at the same time."

"First off, that’s brutal, and kind of awesome. But what happened next?" Zara prompted, clearly enthralled. "I heard you did more than just heal."

Elena's cheeks reddened slightly. "Yeah, that... I was so angry by that point. He'd threatened me, acted like he could just take whatever he wanted. When I finally got the upper hand, I just... lost it a bit. I used my blood magic to drain his mana, and then... well, let's just say I made sure he won't be threatening anyone else for a while."

Zara whistled, impressed. "Damn, girl. Remind me never to get on your bad side. But come on, you've gotta give me more details than that. What exactly did you do to him?"

Elena hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "Let's just say it involved a lot of blood, some creative use of my powers, and making sure he understood the consequences of his actions. I might have... rearranged his face a bit. And maybe severed a hand. I'm not proud of how far I went, but..."

"But he deserved it," Zara finished for her, nodding approvingly. "Trust me, a jackass like that deserves a lot more than what you gave him, but even if he pays tallies for each crown he takes, at least he’s paying. Well, color me impressed. Not everyone can take down a guy like Reginald. He's notorious for a reason. Welcome to the club, Elena. I think we're going to get along just fine."

"Wait," Elena said, confused. "I thought he'd never lost before."

Zara waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, he hasn't. Officially. Let's just say our little tussle ended in a... creative draw. He bent the rules a smidge and when I did the same thing they called the match. But against that ass, not losing’s a win, even if it's on a technicality, right?" She winked. "Besides, it gives me the perfect excuse to remind him how close he came to losing. You should see his face when I bring it up. Priceless."

Zara's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. "Hey, you know what? I'm buying you a drink. No arguments."

Elena blinked, surprised by the sudden offer. "A drink? Why?"

"Because that's what friends do for each other," Zara replied with a grin. "Besides, after a story like that, I think we both could use one."

As they started walking, Zara's curiosity got the better of her. "So, Demon Queen, I've been hearing all sorts of nicknames for you floating around. 'The Bisected Berserker,' 'Bloody Elena,' 'The Crimson Demon'... got any favorites?"

Elena chuckled, shaking her head. "I’m always surprised when I hear some of them. Where do people come up with these things?"

"Oh, you know how it is," Zara said with a wave of her hand. "People love a good story, and becoming a butcher? That's the stuff of legends. So get up. We’ve got a tavern to make regret opening up today." She stood up and held out a hand to Elena.

Elena looked at the hand and then back up to Zara. "Hey, I've got a bit of a reputation at most places. That's... not going to cause a problem, is it?"

Zara snorted, rolling her eyes. "Please. A reputation? That's exactly what I'm looking for in a partner in crime. You think I want some goody-two-shoes who'll faint at the first sign of blood? Nah, give me someone who can hold their own in a fight and isn't afraid to get their hands dirty."

Elena raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Partner in crime, huh?” Elena saw Zara nod and a memory of Lele telling her to meet people came to mind. So she swallowed and looked up at Zara. “Are you putting together a group for the upcoming adventure tour?"

"Ha! I wish," Zara chuckled, running a hand through her hair. "Nah, I was just planning on hooking up with whatever sorry bunch of leftovers they stick me with. You know how it goes - you either form your own dream team or end up getting stuck with a bunch of newbies who can't tell a sword from a toothpick."

Elena grabbed Zara’s hand and stood up, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, in that case... you wouldn't happen to need a healer, would you?"

Zara's eyes lit up, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "A healer? Oh honey, I need way more than just a healer. Believe it or not I’m actually a bit particular in what I want. For instance, if I drink three glasses, you better drink at least two. If we go out fighting, you better believe that we’re also going to go dancing at some point too. If you and I aren’t sympatico, then that shit isn’t going to stick for a team. And fully expect that if your taste in music sucks, I will let you know.”

Elena looked at her a bit confused. “I mean that’s kind of what I want too. But what about fighting stuff?”

“Mmmm. That’s true. I guess as far as a teammate is concerned, I need someone who can patch me up while simultaneously kicking ass. Someone who won't flinch when things get messy. You wouldn’t happen to know someone like... oh, I don't know, a certain demon who just turned Reginald into modern art?"

Elena couldn't help but laugh. "Well, when you put it that way... I might know someone who fits the bill. But fair warning - this demon you're talking about might end up healing you just so she can kick your ass herself if you keep calling her 'Bloody Elena'."

Zara's grin widened. "Oh, I'm counting on it. Nothing like a good ass-kicking to keep the friendship spicy.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Elena. “So, what do you say, partner in crime? Ready to form the most badass duo this academy's ever seen?"

"You know what? I'm in," Elena nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "But I have to ask - why me? You barely know me."

Zara shrugged, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Call it a hunch. Plus, anyone who can turn Reginald into a human punching bag is someone I want on my side. Plus you’re a healer, and healers are in high demand, you know. Gotta snatch up the good ones before some other team swoops in."

"So I'm just a commodity to you?" Elena asked, a bit worried, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh please," Zara scoffed, playfully swatting Elena's arm. "You're a badass healer who can throw down in a fight and potentially has good taste in music. That's not a commodity, that's a fucking unicorn. If anything I should be the one worried about being a commodity. Now come on, let's go get that drink and start planning how we're going to make everyone else look like amateurs."

As they walked off together, Elena felt a sense of excitement she hadn't experienced since before her falling out with Lele. Maybe, just maybe, she'd found someone new she could truly connect with in this strange new world.

"By the way," Zara added as they left the arena, "if your taste in music does suck, I reserve the right to subject you to an extensive re-education program. It's for your own good, really."

Elena chuckled, shaking her head. "I look forward to it. Just remember, payback's a bitch, and you're looking at one who knows how to hold a grudge."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, partner," Zara replied with a wink.