Three years of the most intense studying of Reya's entire existence followed. She approached it like learning a completely new game's meta—total dedication, frame-perfect execution, absolutely zero room for scrub mentality.
High Elf society was basically aristocracy cranked to maximum settings. These beings considered themselves naturally superior to all other races, with magical abilities that actually backed up their attitude. They spoke like they were reciting poetry, moved like professional dancers, and never showed even a hint of weakness or uncertainty.
Ellolia had been particularly cracked even by High Elf standards. As daughter of Ennaria, the legendary Faeri Queen of Starfall, she'd been designated as a Sovereign—essentially a chosen one with access to divine lunar magic. Her signature weapon was a crescent blade with what sounded like a completely broken moveset.
"The Glaive Throw allows multi-target engagement before weapon return," Akselondt explained during one training session. "Crescent Cleave is your primary melee combo. Moon Dash provides mobility with invincibility frames. And Starfall..." He whistled appreciatively. "That's your delete button. Literal meteors of concentrated moonlight."
"That sounds absolutely busted. What's the cooldown timer?"
"Significant mana investment required, so no spamming. Consider it your ultimate ability."
She was also learning to completely embody the character. High Elves weren't just powerful—they were natural performers. Every gesture carried meaning, every word was chosen for maximum impact. It was like method acting for the most extra character design imaginable.
"Remember," Akselondt would remind her, "you're not cosplaying as Ellolia. You need to become her so completely that even other High Elves would accept you without question."
"So I need to maintain the bit until I become the bit. Got it."
As the three-year mark approached, Akselondt's health bar was clearly running low. "The ritual must be performed soon," he warned. "I won't be around much longer to guide you through the process."
The night of the full moon finally arrived. Akselondt had prepared everything—ritual circles that belonged in some summoning anime, ancient incantations, and most importantly, Ellolia's personal equipment set. The moonsilver armor was absolutely pristine, clearly legendary-tier gear with stat bonuses she could only dream of.
"Ready to commit to this character?" he asked.
Reya looked at her reflection in the crystal coffin—still small, still looking like she was stuck playing the child character despite being thirty mentally. Then she gazed at Ellolia's serene face, perfect like a character selection screen.
This was the ultimate YOLO play. Maximum risk, potentially infinite reward.
"Let's absolutely send it."
The ritual was like the most intense cutscene ever created. Light poured from the coffin as ancient magic systems activated. She felt her character data being completely rewritten, consciousness expanding into an entirely new build. When the effects subsided, she stood tall—nearly six feet of elegant High Elf perfection, silver hair flowing like it had its own physics engine.
But then something interesting happened. The transformation wasn't permanent—she could feel the magic compressing her back to Elflet proportions. According to the lore, High Elves could toggle between forms, maintaining compact size for stealth or accessing full power when situations demanded it.
Akselondt smiled weakly from where he'd collapsed during the casting. "Perfect. You've achieved what consumed my entire lifetime. Use this power wisely, young Sovereign."
His eyes closed for the final time, leaving her alone with her new main character energy and a complete legendary equipment set.
"Thanks for the carry, you absolute simp," she whispered, genuinely grateful despite the teasing.