My Free Will System: Transmigrating Into My Favorite Immersion Game

Elias soared through the skies of Eldoria, the wind whipping past him as he held Queen Seraphina close. The castle loomed in the distance, its dark spires cutting into the twilight.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"I see," Elias remarked after listening to Queen Serapna's account, "You said King Alaric eyes turned black as night?" He asked

"Yes," Queen Seraphina nodded , "It is certain that he has taken to demonic powers, or maybe he has become one himself,"

"Become a demon? No one can become a demon. You're either a demon or not, black eyes only mean one thing" He paused, "Possession, a basic ability of all demons. The King has been possessed, and likely by a very powerful demon, seeing as no one was able to sense its power" Elias explained

"Possession? How?" She asked in surprise

"I have not a single clue," Elias admitted, "But possession or not, this has gone to far and someone has to be held accountable,"

His heart raced with a mixture of anger and urgency; he needed to reach Alaric before the depraved king could do any more damage. The queen's trembling form in his arms only fueled his determination.

But then, a blinding flash of light erupted from District Two, followed by a thunderous explosion that shook the air around them. Elias stopped mid-flight, his eyes narrowed as he focused on the source of the blast. It was unmistakably a massive surge of mana.

"Lord Varric," Elias muttered under his breath, his mind racing as he quickly assessed the situation.

Queen Seraphina, her voice still shaken but firm, looked up at him. "We need to help him, Elias. He's fighting against Thane without a weapon to defend himself. Thane might be a vile scum, but he isn't a weakling."

Without another word, Elias adjusted his course, heading straight for the battlefield. As he approached, the air crackled with the remnants of spent spells and the clash of steel. The scene before him was chaotic—Lord Thane, dagger in one hand and wand in the other, was locked in a fierce battle with Lord Varric. Though Varric was fighting valiantly, it was clear that Thane had the upper hand.

His movements were quick and precise, each strike and spell left Lor Varric barely holding on.

Elias didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, he conjured a fireball and hurled it into the midst of their duel. The explosion forced Thane to leap back, giving Elias the opening he needed. He landed beside Lord Varric, quickly assessing the man's condition.

"I'm here to help," Elias said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Varric, panting heavily, gave Elias a wry smile. "If only I had my axe, this wouldn't be such a one-sided fight."

Thane, recovering from the blast, scoffed at Elias. "You're too late, Ashdown," he sneered, twirling his dagger with an arrogant flourish. "By now, King Alaric should have already taken care of the Flarefolk. You all will be executed for treason, except maybe my beautiful Seraphina, I have plans for her." He said as he licked his lips, Queen Seraphina visibly cringed at his action

Elias felt a cold rage building inside him, but he kept his voice calm. "Where is Alaric?"

Thane's eyes glinted with malice as he responded, "Waiting for you in the throne room, I imagine. He'll be eager to greet you properly."

Before Elias could react, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Varric, his expression one of grim determination. "Go, Elias," Varric urged. "Deal with Alaric until I'm done here. I'll handle Thane."

Elias hesitated, his gaze flickering between Varric and Thane. The general was battered and clearly had been on the verge of losing before Elias had intervened. Thane noticed Elias's concern and chuckled darkly. "Worried about me?" he taunted. "Don't be. I'll make sure to send him after you soon enough."

But then, a new group of six soldiers approached, struggling under the weight of a massive object. Elias's eyes widened as he recognized Varric's axe—a weapon of legendary power, as formidable as its wielder. The leader of the group, a young soldier with a steely gaze, stepped forward and saluted Varric.

"We had no idea the king was acting independently of your orders, Lord Varric," the soldier said, his voice filled with regret.

Varric's stern expression softened, and he nodded in understanding. "He is the king, after all," he replied. "You had no choice. I don't blame you."

Thane's confident smirk faltered as he saw the axe. A frown creased his brow, and for the first time, Elias saw uncertainty in the man's eyes. He muttered something under his breath, his confidence shaken.

The moment Varric's hand closed around the haft of the axe, Elias felt the surge of magical energy that coursed through the air like a shockwave. It was as if the very ground beneath them responded to the weapon's presence. Varric's posture straightened, and the weariness that had plagued him moments ago seemed to vanish. A fierce, almost predatory smile spread across his face.

"Go on, Elias Ashdown," Varric said, his voice now filled with confidence, strength and resolve. "I'll be joining you soon."

Elias nodded, a sense of relief mingled with the urgency that still thrummed in his veins. He spared one last glance at Varric, now fully empowered and ready to take on Thane with a ferocity that matched the storm brewing in the sky. With a determined look, Elias turned and shot into the air, heading toward the castle.

There was no more time to waste. Alaric's reckoning was at hand.

A faint, ethereal glow began to emanate from the axe itself, its runes—ancient and powerful—igniting with a fierce, golden light. The glow pulsed in sync with Varric's heartbeat, as if the weapon was alive and had become an extension of his very soul. The light spread, casting a warm yet formidable aura that pushed back the darkness, driving away his lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

Varric's entire demeanor changed. The fatigue and wounds that had weighed him down moments before seemed to evaporate. His posture straightened, and his muscles tightened with renewed vigor. The lines of pain and weariness on his face softened, replaced by a determined, almost feral grin.

The ground beneath Varric's feet responded to the surge of power, cracking and splintering outward in a web of fissures, as if the earth itself acknowledged Varric's might. The very air around him shimmered, distorting slightly from the intense magical energy that now coursed through and around him.

It was as if he had become a living conduit of raw, untamed power, with the axe as the focus of his strength.