Arrogance, not blood, ran in high elves' veins. Therefore, Liya wasn't surprised when Tathdel Elafir didn't even glance at her as she approached. The male had long golden hair held in what humans would call a samurai bun, his golden eyes were almost as big as an anime character, and he was one of the most muscular members of his species that she had ever seen. He wore a white and golden robe.

She was surprised at him standing up to receive her. It was the bare minimum he could do, but it was still more than she usually received from high elves.

"I've never been to a First-Class Summit," Tathdel said while staring at the holographic spherical screens. "I expected more talents."

Liya smiled as she stopped beside him. "Let me guess: pampered boy." She didn't say it aggressively but also didn't try to sound nice. "Grew up all protected with the best tutors."

"Yes," he said pridefully.

Liya didn't mind his pride. In fact, he also sounded grateful, which made her see him in a positive light. She had found spoiled children who resented their parents or guardians for doing their best to protect them. Too much protection was an issue, but not feeling grateful for their care was worse, in her opinion.

"I'm the opposite," she said. "I'm surprised there are so many talents."

"How so?"

"The system doesn't just classify someone as a talent. It tags candidates, and they have to be analyzed by a living being from a valid institution. Then, if they are deemed to have talent, the higher it is, the more likely they are to be poached or killed."

Tathdel frowned. "Killing a First-Class Talent is a crime against the Alliance."

"I regret to inform you there are such things as outlaws out there. People fight for interests. They take risks if they believe the gains are worth it. I also never attended a First-Class Summit, but I participated in three Second-Class, one of them as a talent. Let me tell you, talents die in droves after the Summit is over."

The high elf looked at her for the first time, shock and disgust in his eyes. "What about the Void?"

Liya widened her smile. "What about it? Many believe mutual destruction is better than having your enemy rule over you. So what if everyone else in the Alliance will perish with them? It's just an inconvenient detail, nothing to worry about."

Tathdel looked legitimately shocked by the revelation. He was peak B-rank, at least by the mana in his body—she had no way of knowing about his mastery of Laws or whether he had a Realization—but she could tell he had walked a tranquil Path to power.

That didn't mean he was weaker than her. Not at all. Growing strong required AP and enlightenment. No amount of resources alone could push someone from a race that started as G-rank, like elves, into B-rank. The man had taken risks and dedicated himself. The main difference between him and Liya was that she had a broader range of experience than him.

"That is absurd," he said.

Liya shook her head. "Maybe for someone who doesn't understand living in misery while they are forced to watch bad people thrive."

"Vengeance is not justice," he insisted. "Jealousy or resentment is no good reason to kill."

"So says you. Many people disagree. The stronger party gets to decide what is right or not."

He smiled victoriously as if he had just found a weakness to exploit in her words. "It's the Alliance who decides what's right or not."

Liya snickered. "And we all listen because we'll get punished if we don't. Punished by those in power. Are you that naive, or are you just playing pretend for this very shocked audience?" she asked and gestured to everyone present.

Most beings were talking to each other without bothering to hide anything, but she heard their conversations just as they heard hers. Many were also not trying to hide their emotions or reactions to what they heard. They had reacted to his words with either surprise or scorn.

Tathdel didn't look at them. He had also noticed their reactions but didn't grace his inferiors with his attention. That would be beneath a high elf of a high breed like him.

"I have no reason to care about their opinion," he stated, proving Liya's previous assumption. He also returned his sight to the screen.

"Well, let me tell you something," Liya said. "I bet you weren't sent here to stand silent at a corner. I also bet you were told so by whoever sent you here. We drow know better than anyone how a powerful subordinate with a narrow worldview can be useful, but your people now want you to do more than be a good guard dog. Get off your high horse, or this trip will be wasted. At the very least, think about the things you hear, maybe even discuss them with your superiors when you return. I say this with all the goodness of my heart."

Liya meant that. She wouldn't bother with other races, but high elves were allies. And while she hadn't known they had a first-class talent, they knew about the drow's because a high elf had been the one to analyze Shen in the tutorial. They had known she would come and planned for her to interact with whoever they sent.

To Tathdel's credit, he didn't reply immediately. He did, however, frown deeper and seemed unwilling to continue this conversation.

Liya rolled her eyes, sighed, and turned back to the screen too. "What do you think of this demonstration?"

She felt his hesitation in micro-tell signs in his body. He had never been taught to hide anything. He was indeed born in a golden cradle and raised with a mythril spoon.

"I'm awed at our host's wisdom," he replied after a while.

An almacore chuckled, and the high elf's statement was the only funny one in all ongoing conversations.

She knew little about almacores. She had never found any on the battlefield or interacted with them. The drow classified them as either absolutely trustworthy or scheming traitors; it all came down to luck when you met one.

She turned to the one who had chuckled. This one was male. Spiritual manticores, which looked like golden ghosts, didn't hide their sexual organs, but that's not what she had looked for. The most distinctive trait of males was their lack of wings.

"Would you like to join us?" Liya offered. "I would love to hear what you think of the first demonstration."

The almacore smiled, showing multiple rows of sharp teeth, like a shark, despite its human head. "No, please, continue. Watching you educate the boy has been marvelous."

Liya nodded and took his words for what they were: cowardice and a challenge. Like Tathdel, the almacore didn't dare voice his opinions on the worthless demonstration. He wanted to see if Liya would dare.

"This demonstration is flawed at its core," Liya stated without worry. Complaining about wasting time would be bad for her "reputation," so she would only objectively pinpoint an issue. There was nothing wrong with that. "Talents can't fully display the strange ability that makes them special if the threat isn't real. Which, Tathdel, is another reason there are so few talents here. We all care for our talents, but they are resources that only display their value in high-risk environments. Whether they believe they are at risk makes little difference if it's not real. Somehow, Reality itself seems to dismiss false risks. In other words, talents are meant to be used, not grown in greenhouses."

Tathdel wasn't convinced. "The host knows that. He wouldn't make us waste time."

"Yet, facts don't lie. This tells us something else: Discontinuity has an agenda. As soon as it's revealed, he'll say sorry and give us something nice. If we survive that far, that is."

"You quoted no fact, only your opinion."

"Feel free to purchase the Primer on Talents," Liya replied. "It contains official statistics. Two to three thousand first-class talents are born every Standard year, but only a dozen can reach D-rank without risking their lives. Reaching C and B-rank requires them to take risks, and lower-class talents have it even worse. They have no choice. Talent is a double-edged sword."

Tathdel pursed his lips and, defeated, chose to attack another thing she had said. "The host wouldn't kill us."

Liya chuckled at that. "Why not? Who would seek retribution? He's S-rank." She shook her head. "He killed a tutor and talent who refused his summons to this Summit. We all had no choice but to come. He's a tyrant, no matter what nice furniture he gifts us. He's also a liar. He lied to the talents. What stops him from lying to us about how safe this place is?"

That made Tathdel think at last. He frowned deeply and looked at nothing as he considered everything.

Suddenly, Liya knew something new.

'Discontinuity tells us all that he had never considered things from that perspective. That, indeed, his actions put him in a bad light. He is sincerely and deeply sorry and guarantees it was an honest mistake. He had never directly dealt with Summits before but wanted to try his hand this time. Clearly, he terribly overestimated himself. To him, talents can and should be tested or given lessons regardless of lies because that's the nature of demonstrations, but he assures us he never even considered doing something similar to us. As an apology, he'll gift us a bar of A-rank Eighteen Luminaries Alloy.'

Liya rolled her eyes again. More hypocrisy. If she hadn't called him out on it in public—she knew very well what she had been doing—everyone would have pretended everything was fine.

But then, Liya felt absolutely endangered, for the infinity-edger "said" something else only to her.

'He tells me he's impressed with my analytical ability and wants to learn from an expert. He'll give me a list of all resources and costs available to run this Summit, from costs to teleport people around, to available venues, to available prizes and so on. I can run it however I want.'

It was no surprise to find it had been a trap all along. The asshole wanted her to make a mistake so he'd have an excuse to punish her without looking like a tyrant.

To her shame, she had considered many ways he would pay her back for not playing along, but not this.

She was being given too much power. If adequately manipulated, Summits could cause the downfall of entire races; she could plant a seed of vengeance in a talent's heart against their race. She could also start significant conflicts between everyone by offering the wrong prize at the wrong time. For instance, she could offer an A-tier prize that two races desperately needed.

Discontinuity was playing a high-stakes game. If Liya messed up enough, even the drow race might have to pay the price. He didn't even need to do it himself; just revealing she had been behind the demonstrations would be enough.

So, she did what Shen had never been wise enough to do. She immediately kneeled towards the S-rank chair. "I beg your forgiveness. Tell me how I might repay the humiliation."

'He's surprised. He claims to have no idea why I would react like this.'

Liya didn't buy it. An S-rank didn't become an S-rank by being as clueless as the B-rank high elf. Discontinuity would have long died on someone's ploy if he was that naive.

"Please, I'll do anything," she insisted.

And then, she was teleported away. She materialized in endless whiteness, but it wasn't the space between teleportations. She was fully there, able to move and talk.

Discontinuity was there too.

The S-rank had revealed his presence, and Reality was crying again. In fact, this white space should be a phase space because it was more fragile than normal space. Spatial tears appeared everywhere as the place couldn't withstand an infinity-edger's existence.

Then, a white crystal ball appeared before her. She recognized the ridiculously rare S-rank interrogation device used only by official A-rank or higher institutions. It was an inther.

By touching the inther, she could push her thoughts into it. Anyone else could then check that information later. However, you couldn't push falsehoods into the inther. She had to fully believe what she was sharing, or it would simply reject the data.

'He says he's honestly confused. He's missing something and asks for my help. He wants me to share not only words to explain what he did wrong but also my feelings on the matter, for perspective. If possible, also past moments where my thoughts were proven true, for context.'

Liya gulped, suddenly feeling completely out of depth.

There was no way to avoid offending him now. Not if she was forced to also share her feelings. He would know how much she resented him and this entire Summit thing. Maybe even how much she resented the Alliance if she was forced to give enough context.

Was that the infinity-edger plan all along, to force her into offending him? Or was it a show of mercy? She wouldn't implicate the drow by personally offending him in this private setting, as his previous request might cause her to.

Whatever the case, she already knew there was no begging her way out of this. It hadn't worked before and wouldn't work now. She should take this mercy and save her people.

She smiled self-deprecatingly as she thought about Shen. She had warned him about the dangers of the Summit, but she had been the one to get caught first.

Liya blamed it on inexperience. She had never dealt with an S-rank, except the one she had summoned to the gnoll rift. She had fully believed herself safe out of the hypocritical rules of "free speech" in the Summit. But Discontinuity hadn't cared about making an example out of her.

This was new. The Alliance was changing. At least the drow would learn of it fast enough after she died. They had to be prepared for this new challenge.

Liya clenched her fists. If she was going to die, she would at least give that S-rank a piece of her mind first. It was as glorious a death as any, she supposed. How many could claim to have been able to do the same?

She touched the crystal and shared everything she hated about Summits, how much she abhorred Discontinuity's hypocrisy, and even the suffering of those who lived under the tyranny of rank in the Alliance.

She ended it with a very aggressive "Fuck you."

Then she took her armor and spear from her spatial ring, deployed her domain, and attacked.

That was the plan, at least. However, as soon as she was done with the inther, she knew something new.

'Discontinuity claims to be utterly surprised and shocked. My way of thinking is absolutely alien to him, but he can follow the logic. Contrary to my beliefs, he's responsible for all Summits; there aren't other lying tyrants around. But he always asked others to organize them. He's already investigating every Summit from the very first one. He'll check if they really were used to suppress some races or as a tool to find talents to kill. He'll root out all corruption he finds. He... He says he's one of the Alliance's founders! He claims he'll never allow it to be twisted like this. He'll also—'

The knowledge suddenly stopped, the infinity-edger's presence faded away, and red notifications flashed before Liya's eyes.

| The End of All Things (S) has declared war on the Dusk Horizon (S)