'Wait, I'm Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I'm a Guy!'

Liam waited.

Just a breath longer.

Mize was still locked in that dazed silence, her body limp in his arms, eyes distant and blinking slow, like someone waking up in a place they didn’t remember entering.

If there was a word for her state, it was dilemma, caught between grasping what happened and not quite knowing how to explain the unease curling in her gut.

She understood something had gone wrong.

Or maybe too much had gone right, in the wrong way.

“An illusion?” Her eyes flicked up, slightly clearer now.

The long folds of her loose dress shifted as she moved, the fabric clinging lightly to her curves before settling again under gravity.

Her hand reached out and took a loose grip on Liam’s collar. “Was that all just... fake?”

"It wasn't me, right?"

"It wasn't me... That hurt you?"

“A pivoted truth in false,” Liam replied, his tone far too casual for the conversation.

The answer only made her eyebrows twitch.

Mize blinked. That phrase went in one ear and immediately died in confusion inside her head.

She stared at him for a second longer, hand still holding the fabric of his shirt, then her arm dropped.

She slumped sideways, resting against his shoulder with a small, frustrated whimper.

“Truth in a state of false?” she mumbled, her voice trailing, foggy with disbelief.

“Aizen’s ability,” Liam nodded, adjusting his hold on her without hesitation.

One arm wrapped firmly around her waist, barely solid, like her body hadn’t quite decided whether to stay upright or melt into him.

“I asked him to set it up before the duel started. I didn’t want your first real battle to go somewhere irreversible. I might’ve added a few nudges to your mind as well.”

“A few nudges,” she repeated dryly, then exhaled as her forehead gently leaned into the side of his jaw.

A headache was forming, but she stayed where she was, half limp, half burning to understand.

Her eyes drifted sideways, landing on Titrus and Aizen, both still standing with their heads slightly bowed, just as before.

“…Explain,” she ordered, voice low but firm.

Titrus responded immediately, stepping forward with the steadiness of someone used to answering direct commands.

“It was an ability,” he rumbled, “that mirrors reality into a constructed space, visually and physically identical to the real world. Master, you were dragged into it alongside Lord Liam.”

He paused, then continued with the report.

“This constructed state allows complete manipulation for the unaware. However, Sir Aizen followed Lord Liam’s directive to keep the duel fair. You fought uninhibited, as though it were real. When the ability ended, all damage vanished. No injuries. No consequences.”

Mize took a long breath, shoulders lifting slowly before dropping.

Her hand went up, thumb and index finger pressing the bridge of her nose, right between the brows.

“It felt real,” she muttered.

She cursed softly under her breath.

Liam chuckled beside her. “Well, there’s no actual risk in that state. It’s like... fighting inside a bubble that mimics the world, except it’s hollow inside.”

He tilted his head slightly and added, “Dangerous, yeah, but useful too.”

Mize’s gaze dropped.

She turned her head, locking eyes with Aizen like she’d just remembered he existed.

The way her eyes narrowed was subtle, but there was weight behind it.

Aizen flinched, a faint line of sweat sliding down the side of his face.

He wiped it quickly with a conjured tissue.

“P-please, Your Highness,” he stammered, bowing slightly. “It wasn’t my idea. I simply followed Lord Liam’s command.”

“Hmph.” Mize didn’t bother responding with words. Her eyes spoke volumes, annoyed, unimpressed, and mildly dangerous.

She raised her hand.

Tiny, glowing orbs shimmered into existence above her fingertips.

Five of them. Lined up in a neat arc, quietly humming with built-up force. They aimed forward, hovering.

“Still, I should thank you for giving me a perfect chance to test this new ability,” she said smoothly.

Then she smiled.

It wasn’t pleasant.

There was something about the way she tilted her head, calm and smiling while prepping high-scale magic at point-blank range, that set off alarms.

Her anger wasn’t visible, but it was there. In the movement.

In the silence.

In the precise control of the orbs shifting with gravity manipulation, distortion warping subtly around them.

Aizen flinched hard this time. His lips twitched into a shaky grin, and he stepped back ever so slightly.

“C-can I say no?” he stammered again. “Your Highness, your current attribute... it’s divine-class. If you fire something like that at me, I’ll die. Instantly. Horribly.”

“Well,” Mize tilted her head the other way, her tone still teasing, “Liam can bring you back anyway.”

“M-My lord,” Aizen squeaked, eyes snapping toward Liam like a desperate puppy begging for a reprieve.

Liam, always smiling, looked thoroughly entertained.

He didn’t speak right away, just watched both of them, Mize’s fake-innocent smirk and Aizen’s unravelling calm, with the quiet amusement of someone watching a chaotic game unfold.

When Mize’s eyes flicked to him too, waiting for a go-ahead, Liam finally laughed.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough, Mimi.”

“Hmph.” Mize made a small noise of discontent, flicking her wrist dismissively.

The orbs launched past Aizen’s head in a blink.

Zooming.

Then.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

A series of distant explosions detonated across the landscape, deep enough to rattle the air.

Mushroom clouds rose on the far horizon, rolling skyward like something from a war zone.

The shockwave hit seconds later, a low tremor buzzing through the ground.

Wind blasted in, whipping up dust and tugging at their clothes.

Aizen stood frozen, blinking rapidly. A single bead of sweat trickled down his jaw, and he quietly vowed never to provoke her again.

Liam, even with all his composure, swallowed once.

His gaze followed the distant plumes of destruction, lips parted, then he coughed lightly into his hand.

“Well... that’s one way to answer a question.”

He looked down at the girl still nestled against him, now smugly satisfied.

“Mimi,” he said, gently pinching her cheek, “I’m starting to think you don’t even need real combat experience. With abilities like that, who’s going to touch you?”

He paused, then muttered more to himself than anyone, “...God help me if you decide to spam that inside the territory.

Hearing Liam’s words, Mize let out a soft chuckle.

Her lashes fluttered as she leaned back slightly, hands pressing against her chest.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a smirk, “I’m not reckless enough to pull something that dumb. One orb alone could wipe out a town.”

That earned a sharp twitch from the corner of Liam’s smile.

His hand instinctively tightened around her waist, just enough pressure to serve as a warning.

“Regardless,” he said, voice calm but expectant, “start getting ready for tomorrow’s event.”

His tone carried the weight of intent, and Mize tilted her head in response, listening.

“My goal’s to secure first place. Your presence could lock that in.”

His words drifted lazily into the air, the meaning behind them clear enough.

“Especially with how easily you can summon tier 5 tree guards. That alone gives us a strong chance, an entire legion at your command,” he added, more to himself than her.

“Can do.” Mize gave a firm nod, eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

With a lazy, deliberate shift, she slid off the chair, ducking out of Liam’s reach before his hands could grope for her chest again.

“And I don’t think this is my limit either. Feels like I’m barely scratching the surface, I just need more time to imagine.”

Liam nodded. “Understood.”

Next.

They went back to sparring a few more rounds inside Aizen’s constructed space.

It still felt bizarre, real enough to be convincing, but hollow in ways Mize couldn’t quite put her finger on.

The first time, she hadn’t even realized she’d been dragged into the illusion.

That unawareness alone had thrown her into panic.

She wouldn’t let it happen again.

From that moment on, she swore to build abilities that accounted for every possibility, no more surprises.

No more slipping.

According to Titrus, her mental strength was more than enough to realize the false illusive state, but she lacked the instinct.

The sparring dragged into midday, and still, Mize showed no signs of slowing. She hovered above the terrain, silent.

Her eyes swept across the simulated battlefield, analyzing angles and elevation.

Then, out of nowhere, thousands of dark fireballs surged from the horizon, streaking through the sky like falling stars.

Mize was already in her goddess form, hovering above it all.

Whatever weird manipulation Aizen had used last time wasn’t working now.

Strange.

Apparently, once you became aware of the illusion, you could unravel it at will.

The moment your consciousness recognized the trick, the spell lost its hold.

As for escaping the space entirely?

There were only two options: kill the caster, or hope they were generous enough to let you go.

Mize didn’t bet on the latter.

Her right hand lifted, fingers spread gently through the air.

But there was a hidden upside to being trapped here.

She smiled faintly, eyes sharp with thought.

Aizen’s ability wasn’t just illusion, it was layered.

A mix of truth and falsehood tangled together in one twisted dimension.

Perfect for subterfuge, data collection, training… anything that needed stakes without consequences.

But there was a catch. Or so Liam and Aizen had said.

Each time they exited the space, everything reset, injuries, stamina, energy, all wiped clean.

Like nothing ever happened.

At least… that was the theory.

Mize’s smile deepened.

She hadn’t told them what she’d discovered.

Every time she created a new skill within that space, it stayed with her.

Even after they left. The system didn’t flag it as unusual, just quietly attributed it to her “profession.”

But the true name of her profession?

The system refused to say, no matter how she probed.

Well, whatever.

She’d already made several skills in this pocket world.

Now, she wanted independence from it. Her next goal was to create a similar ability, her own version.

Something that allowed continuous skill creation, no strings attached.

The dark fireballs arrived in seconds, roaring like a wave of death.

Mize’s palm moved slowly, then slapped forward.

The air buckled.

A colossal golden palm manifested in the sky, over a hundred meters tall, solid and gleaming.

It collided with the oncoming fireballs head-on.

Thunderous explosions burst through the sky, one after another, loud enough to rattle the distant space.

Then, without pause, the golden hand pushed forward.

Mize shifted her stance mid-air, her expression unreadable, and slapped her hand downward again.

The golden construct obeyed, slamming into the earth below.

Boom!

The ground ruptured beneath the blow. Dust and soil erupted like geysers.

Screams scattered in the chaos as nearly a hundred battle mages were flattened under the strike, their bodies torn apart before they could react.

And Mize hovered above it all, eyes gleaming.