The Transmigrated Author

{Morwen's POV}

[Syndicate Head Quarters]

The headquarters pierced the skyline of Eldoria like a shard of obsidian, its elegant lines and mirrored front reflecting the city's scheme and its underlying rot. Inside, luxury masked cold efficiency. Morwen's office, perched at the very top of the building owned under the group Syndicate.

Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the metropolis. From this vantage point, Eldoria was his miniature kingdom, the city shined like scattered jewels waiting to be gathered.

Yet, the room itself was devoid of personal touches. Polished marble floors, walls of austere dark wood, a single massive desk - everything spoke of standing on business, not comfort.

BZZZT!, BZZZT!

The buzzing of his phone broke his trance. He didn't look away from the window as he answered, the city's reflection shimmering in his cold gaze as a holographic projection of one of his well known friend in the space.

A booming, enthusiastic greeting shattered Morwen's contemplation,

"MORWEN! I finally figured out how to use these technology thingys!"

A frown creased Morwen's brow as Drakon Salazar's holographic projection flickered into existence. His massive body was taking up most of the projection screen, Morwen winced at the man's noisy tone, the volume seemingly amplified within his polished, sterile office.

"That's… good for you, Drakon," Morwen managed, a sneer ghosting across his features. "But why are you calling? Are you, perhaps, back from playing in the mountains?"

Drakon beamed, oblivious to Morwen's subtle jab. "Yeah! I've been practising pulling mountains together in Greece! Did you know you can do that? It's amazing!"

Morwen stifled a sigh. The man was truly all brawn and had no brains, a fact that simultaneously irritated and amused him.

"If that's all, I'm afraid I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"Oh, right!" Drakon exclaimed. "Almost forgot! There's a rumour, see? About the towers! They say they might open them up to the public soon!"

Morwen's hand tightened. The 4 towers were essentially steps to the end of the world, Information that he confirmed true before the knowledge of being in the tower Morwen was waiting for that moment to happen.

"I see," he replied, his tone deceptively calm. "Goodbye then Drakon."

"NO WAI-"

FINK!

He cut the connection without waiting for a response, Drakon's startled protest swallowed by the abrupt silence. Alone again, Morwen stared out at Eldoria, his mind working furiously. The opening of the towers – it was an unthinkable breach.

With a sigh, he pulled the mask away. His reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows was that of a stranger - red hair the colour of spilled blood, a single jagged scar cutting through his right eye, the surrounding flesh etched with the memory of flames from a certain being. It was a testament to a past he'd both embraced and forever remembered.

SHAAAA!

as Morwen turned towards the sound - the faintest rustle of cloth. The door to his office opened silently.

A figure emerged from the shadows, draped in a black robe that pooled around him like spilled ink. He knelt, hood obscuring his face, a gesture of practised subservience.

"Kayn," Morwen's voice echoed in the spacious room. "What brings you here?"

"Master," Kayn rasped, his voice speaking with conviction, "I have acquired information regarding the annual event held by Pinnacle Academy."

Morwen's interest piqued. "The Scouting Invitational, I presume?" he spoke, Thinking what this information could be.

He assumed that the access to Pinnacle was notoriously difficult. Korea, with its ever-shifting magical boundaries and protected sites, was a stronghold for his kind. Pinnacle Academy, overseen by the mage known as Aeliana, the God of Mages, was the pinnacle of those protections.

Kayn raised his head slightly, just enough for the dim light to glint off a single emerald eye visible beneath the hood. "I've also obtained… the coordinates to Pinnacle Academy."

Morwen stopped for a moment to look at Kayn, "Why bring this to my attention now, Kayn? On such short notice?"

A flicker of unease crossed Morwen's face. "How certain are you, Kayn? The last time we pursued coordinates for Pinnacle, it resulted in…" He let the memory hang in the air, the disastrous bloodbath against the forces of Aurelia – Herself, as their group Quadra and their allies barely escaped with their lives.

Anger, hot and sharp, flared within him, but Morwen ruthlessly suppressed it.

"If this is a lie, Kayn, then I will kill you where you stand," he warned his voice a cold whisper that sent shivers down Kayn's spine.

Kayn shook slightly under Morwen's scrutiny. "Master, I assure you, the information is reliable. We intercepted a low-level reporter, trapped by Franz's abilities. He unknowingly stumbled upon Pinnacle's grounds during the tournament."

"Interesting," Morwen mused, tension easing slightly. If true, this was a stroke of luck. "When does this tournament end?" Morwen asked with a curious look.

"Franz's report suggests tomorrow is the final day," Kayn replied. "The spectacle will draw eyes from all over."

Morwen's lips twisted in a long smile. "Excellent. I shall pay this gathering a visit myself."

Kayn hesitated. "Master, a word of caution. Word on the street is that this year's first-year batch is ...exceptional. Guilds of considerable power have gathered, anticipating a grand show in the final."

"I shall keep that in mind." Morwen waved a dismissive hand. "Once those self-proclaimed heroes take their leave, then the target I've been pursuing will finally be within my reach." He conjured a holographic image of a young woman with silver-blonde hair and striking red eyes – Valencia Freya.

"Thank you for the timely information, Kayn. Ensure you gather the complete details by tomorrow."

Kayn bowed. "Of course, Master." He retreated into the shadows as silently as he'd appeared.

Alone, Morwen stared at the image of Valencia Freya. "The daughter of the previous sword saint and heir to the most prestigious guild in the world," he murmured, the titles rolling off his tongue with a hint of relish. "And yet, even those accolades are nothing compared to her true potential."

His fingers traced the image, alighting on her crimson eyes. Unlike most mages, his own power wasn't flashy or elemental.

His was made of dark magic, being able to consume his opponents and send them to the deepst of voids. And when Morwen had seen Valencia Freya, he saw a potential that eclipsed even his own.

"If guided correctly... " he spoke aloud, "she could become the Queen of the Towers. If only she takes this..."

His hand drifted to his pocket where a small vial nestled, its contents shimmering with a false glow. This serum, the culmination of Vladimir's sacred works, honed over countless years, held the power to unlock a person's full potential, pushing them beyond their limits. It was dangerous, unpredictable, yet intoxicatingly powerful - worthy of the prize that was Valencia Freya.

A low chuckle echoed in his office. "If she becomes one of my own, under my guidance... conquering the towers will be but child's play." envisioning Valencia transformed – a weapon honed to his purpose.

***

{Rel's POV}

[Pinnacle Academy Stadium 2 - Arena B: Centre Stage]

[Time: 11:54 PM]

[Battle Duration: 4 minutes, 43 Seconds]

The Inviligator's voice boomed through the otherwise silent arena. "Winner of the Round of 16, Rel Laurence!"

I let out a sigh, lowering my arm. The tingling sensation of my hand slowly faded as my opponent lay on the ground, out for the count. A clean win, but a sad one.

I scanned the spectator stands, finding them depressingly empty. "Of course," I muttered under my breath. "Out of all the fights today, they had to stick mine in Arena B."

A bitter-sweet taste rolled on my tongue. I'd been informed of the last-minute switch-up just 10 minutes before my match.

Apparently, there was an unexpected surge of interest in the battle between Louise and Noah and their match had somehow pushed mine to Arena B for some stupid reason...

With a last glance at the empty arena, I turned and headed towards the student entrance of the Main Stadium.

...

...

[5 Minutes Later]

...

...

[Pinnacle Academy Stadium 1 - Main Arena: Entrance To The Student Section]

Gone was the oppressive silence; instead, a buzz of excited voices spilled out as I approached.

Crowds of students jostled for space, the energy of seeing a highly anticipated battle was reasonable. This was where the real part of the tournament began, the place to be. Yet, as tempting as it was to slip in with the crowds, I knew I couldn't afford to lose those front row seats.

Pressing against a wall, I surveyed the scene. Just then, a familiar voice cut through the din.

"Rel? Why are you here?" It was Lyra, her usual friendly smile now stretched in genuine surprise. "I thought your match was still going on?"

"Same reason as you," I replied, keeping a straight face. "To see the quarterfinal. As for my match... well, it was okay." I left it at that. Understated was better, even if a small part of me felt to boast.

She blinked. "Just 'Okay'? I expected... I don't know, more excitement?" She tilted her head confused at my statement. "Not your style to brag, I guess?"

Keeping my straight face I nodded,

"Thanks."

The truth was, I wasn't used to interacting with others, much less being the focus of anyone's attention. Being unnoticed was comfortable.

__________

Authors Note:

- The group quadra consists of the 4 most wanted men in the world: Vladimir Bane, Morwen Cross, Cyran Gray, Drakon Salazar,

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