Salem looked out from her fortress, the grim lands stretching before her in an eternal twilight.
The defeat of Cinder at Beacon had been… unexpected.
A ripple in the carefully crafted tapestry of her plans.
She had felt it, a sudden surge of power, a shift in the very fabric of magic that had briefly obscured her sight, like a flash of lightning across a darkened sky.
She felt calm. Too calm for her usual self.
The reason why she was very calm was because she could feel someone using magic.
A magic unlike any she had encountered in millennia.
It wasn't the raw, destructive force of the Grimm, nor the refined, often limited, power of the Maidens.
This was something… different.
Something ancient, yet new.
Divine, yet anchored to Remnant.
"So, a being of low god level has come to this forsaken world, Humm, this smell… A dragon…"
She mused, her voice a low, resonant whisper that carried through the cavernous chamber.
Tyrian, ever vigilant, stood silently by, his tail twitching in anticipation.
Watts, hunched over a console, paused his work, his brow furrowed.
"My Lady?"
Watts ventured, his tone wary.
"The reports indicate Cinder faced the invincible girl who should be weaker than her, However, something changed in the invincible girl. We are still trying to ascertain if it was that low god's doing or not and what was its capability."
Watts said while thinking deeply about his failed plan.
It might be related to this god that his mistress was talking about.
Salem merely smiled, a chilling, almost serene expression that rarely graced her features.
"Capability? Irrelevant, Watts. What matters is the emergence of a new player on the board. One with the audacity to wield divine authority."
She raised a hand, and a faint, swirling orb of dark magic formed above her palm.
"I felt it. A raw, untamed potential. A Low Level Godling, no less."
Salem didn't fear any gods at all. She even dared to challenge them so they would end her miserable life.
Tyrian chuckled, a raspy sound.
"A 'godling,' you say? Sounds like someone needs to be taught their place. Perhaps a personal visit is in order, My Lady?"
His eyes gleamed with a predatory light. Unlike Salem who had met Gods before. He had never met one so he was just an ignorant bastard.
Salem dismissed the orb, her gaze distant.
"Patience, Tyrian. Rash actions are for the short-sighted. This being… Arthur Leywin Stark, as our foolish Cinder discovered… he is a variable. A significant one. He not only made Ozma little pawns stronger than they should be, but he has also demonstrated an understanding of… fundamental forces."
She walked to a large map of Remnant, her finger tracing the contours of the continent.
"He chose to protect Beacon, to protect Vale. A localized conflict, yes, but the implications are far-reaching. He disrupted the established order, preventing my design from unfolding as planned."
Her smile widened, a hint of genuine amusement now playing on her lips.
"He is, for now, an annoyance. But an intriguing one."
Watts, ever the pragmatist, cleared his throat.
"My Lady, with all due respect, if this 'godling' truly possesses such power, could he not become a direct threat to our ultimate goal?"
"He could,"
Salem conceded, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"But he could also be… useful. Every force on Remnant, whether they know it or not, serves a purpose in my grand design. Even a fledgling god. His presence has stirred the pot, created chaos that I can yet mold to my will."
She turned back to them, her presence commanding attention.
"I want eyes on him. Subtle, untraceable. I want to know his every move, his every intention. Watts, your networks will be invaluable. Tyrian, prepare your most discreet agents. Do not engage him. Do not provoke him. Simply observe."
"And if he continues to interfere?"
Tyrian pressed, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"Then,"
Salem said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper,
"We will consider how best to bend his power to our will. Or, if necessary, break him. But for now, let him play his game. Let him believe he has altered destiny. The true game, Watts, Tyrian, has only just begun."