Chapter 1: A Queen’s Return

Lee Seong-min had always imagined death to be quiet, a slow fading into nothingness. Instead, his final moments were filled with chaos. The sharp screech of twisting metal, the acrid scent of burning rubber, and the unbearable pressure against his chest as the weight of the truck crushed his body. Pain flooded every nerve, a blinding agony that turned into cold numbness. He barely had time to process it before his consciousness unraveled into darkness.

But the end never came.

Instead, there was warmth. A strange, foreign warmth that surrounded him like an embrace. He could feel it in his limbs—limbs that shouldn't exist. The sensation of a heartbeat, strong and rhythmic, pulsed in his ears. The dull memory of the accident wavered, slipping away as new sensations took hold. His body felt... smaller? Lighter? There was no pain, only an odd weightlessness.

When his eyes fluttered open, his vision was flooded with a brilliant golden light. At first, he thought he was in heaven, but as his gaze focused, he realized the glow came from the intricate golden embroidery of a vast, canopied ceiling. He tried to move, but his limbs responded sluggishly. A wave of panic rose within him as he finally became aware of the voices surrounding him—gentle, reverent, and in a language he instinctively understood yet had never heard before.

"She has been blessed by the gods," a soft voice whispered.

"The prophecy was true… A High Queen is born."

His mind reeled. She? His throat tightened, and instinctively, he tried to speak, but only a weak cry escaped. The realization hit him like a second death. He had been reborn—not as himself, not even as a human, but as something else entirely.

The next few years were a blur of discovery. He—or rather, she—had been reborn as Elara Vellwyn, the sole princess of the High Elves, a race of beings renowned for their beauty, intelligence, and unmatched affinity for magic. As a child, Elara's days were filled with lessons—history, strategy, diplomacy. But most of all, magic. Her new body was brimming with mana, a vast ocean that even the greatest elven sorcerers could only dream of wielding. She learned to harness it, shaping flames with a mere flick of her fingers, calling upon the winds to lift her off the ground, and bending the water to dance in elegant spirals.

But magic alone was not enough.

From the moment she could walk, she was trained in the ways of the sword. Though elves were naturally graceful, her instructors pushed her beyond what was normal, forging her into a warrior as well as a ruler. Every morning, she awoke before dawn, her muscles burning from relentless training. Every night, she collapsed into her silken sheets, exhaustion pressing her into dreamless sleep. Yet, with each passing year, she grew stronger. Faster. Sharper.

By the time she reached fifty—still young by elven standards—her name was already spoken in hushed awe. Her swordsmanship rivaled the greatest elven generals, her magic unmatched in raw power. And when the crown was placed upon her head, the court knelt before her, not just out of duty, but out of reverence.

But peace was not meant to last.

The Demon King had been a shadow over their lands for centuries, a monstrous entity ruling over an army of nightmare creatures. His forces had razed kingdoms, devoured empires. And now, they had turned their sights on the elven lands. War erupted, a tide of darkness crashing against the beauty of the forests. Cities burned, rivers ran red with blood, and for the first time in centuries, the immortal elves tasted fear.

Elara led the charge.

She carved through the battlefield like a storm, her blade singing through the air, her magic reshaping reality itself. Fire and lightning rained upon the monstrous hordes, the sky torn asunder by her wrath. The war stretched on for years, each battle more brutal than the last. She watched comrades fall, watched the light fade from their eyes, watched as entire forests were reduced to ash. But she never wavered. She was their queen, their last hope.

And in the heart of the Demon King's fortress, she faced him.

He was a colossal being of shadows and flame, his very presence a suffocating weight. His laughter echoed through the ruined halls as he met her blade with claws that could tear through mountains. They clashed, the force of their battle shaking the earth itself. Spells shattered reality, the air thick with the scent of burnt ozone and blood. The fight dragged on, both warriors refusing to yield.

But in the end, it was she who stood victorious.

With the last of her strength, she drove her blade through his heart, his monstrous form dissolving into darkness. Silence fell over the battlefield. The war was over. She had won.

Yet, as she stood amidst the ruins, exhaustion weighing down on her, a strange pull gripped her very soul. The air shimmered around her, reality bending and twisting. A voice, ancient and gentle, whispered in her mind.

"Your task is complete. It is time to return."

Before she could react, the world around her faded, swallowed by a blinding white light.

When her vision returned, she was no longer in the shattered remnants of the Demon King's fortress. The scent of damp stone and iron filled her nostrils. The air was thick with mana, but it was different—raw and untamed, unlike the refined magic of her previous world. The dim glow of torches illuminated the towering stone walls of a dungeon.

Shouts and the clash of weapons echoed through the chamber ahead. Instinctively, Elara moved toward the noise, her bare feet silent on the cold floor. Peering around the corner, she saw a group of armored warriors locked in battle with monstrous creatures—hulking, fanged beasts with glowing red eyes.

Leading the charge was a woman wreathed in flames, her crimson hair flowing like fire. She moved with a deadly grace, her blade carving through enemies with explosive bursts of heat. Elara recognized her power instantly. Fire mana surged through the woman like a living entity, bending to her will with ease. The warriors beside her fought with skill, but the sheer number of monsters threatened to overwhelm them.

Without hesitation, Elara raised her hand. Mana flowed effortlessly from her core, and with a whisper, she sent forth a wave of golden light. The creatures froze as divine energy washed over them, their bodies turning to dust before they could react.

The battle ceased. The warriors turned, weapons still raised, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion.

Jung So-ra, the flame-wielding warrior, narrowed her eyes. "Who the hell are you?"

Elara lowered her hand, tilting her head in amusement. "Just a traveler," she said, her voice smooth and measured. "Though I suppose you could call me a returnee."

Recognition flickered in So-ra's gaze. Returnees—those who had vanished from Earth, only to reappear with otherworldly powers. It was rare, but not unheard of. And judging by the raw power radiating from this mysterious elf, she was unlike any returnee So-ra had encountered before.

She sheathed her sword and extended a hand. "Jung So-ra. You're coming with us."

Elara smiled, clasping So-ra's hand in her own. And just like that, her second life on Earth began.

The air outside the dungeon was crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the thick, damp heat of the underground chambers. Elara squinted slightly as she stepped through the shimmering gateway, her eyes adjusting to the light of the setting sun. The sky was streaked with hues of gold and crimson, casting a warm glow over the bustling cityscape beyond the dungeon's entrance. The sight was overwhelming—cars lined the streets, neon signs flickered to life, and towering buildings stretched toward the heavens. 

She had returned. But this was not the Earth she had once known.

Jung So-ra and her guild emerged behind her, their armor still bearing the marks of battle. So-ra stepped forward, brushing back a few strands of her flame-colored hair, her sharp eyes scanning Elara with curiosity. "Alright, first things first—we need to get you registered. Otherwise, you're just another unlicensed awakened running around, and that'll cause problems."

Elara nodded, though she only vaguely understood the bureaucratic processes of this world. She had spent decades as a queen, handling the intricacies of governance, yet this—this was unfamiliar territory. She followed So-ra's lead as they made their way toward a large, government-operated facility just a short walk from the dungeon entrance.

The building was sleek, modern, and buzzing with activity. Large digital screens displayed rankings, mission reports, and news of recent dungeon breaks. People in military-style uniforms patrolled the halls, while hunters of varying skill levels filled the waiting area, chatting amongst themselves or checking their devices. The moment Elara stepped inside, she could feel dozens of eyes on her. 

Her appearance alone made her stand out—long, silver-blonde hair cascaded down her back, her high elf features more ethereal than human. Her posture was regal, her expression unreadable, yet there was an unmistakable presence about her that commanded attention. 

"She new?" someone whispered.

"Looks like a returnee."

"Damn, never seen one like her before..."

Jung So-ra ignored the murmurs and led Elara to a reception desk, where a stern-looking woman in a uniform glanced up from her tablet. "New registration?" she asked, eyeing Elara with barely concealed interest.

"Yeah. She's a returnee, so she'll need full documentation," So-ra replied, placing a firm hand on Elara's shoulder as if staking some claim over her discovery.

The woman's expression shifted slightly at the mention of a returnee. "Understood. Please provide identification—"

"She doesn't have any," So-ra interrupted. "She just got back."

The receptionist sighed, tapping a few buttons on her screen. "In that case, we'll need a full mana signature scan and biometrics. Step over to the terminal."

Elara did as instructed, stepping up to a sleek machine that pulsed with soft blue light. She placed her hand against the scanner, feeling a gentle hum as it analyzed her mana signature. The machine flickered, the screen displaying a series of unfamiliar readings before flashing a warning message.

"Mana density off the charts..." the receptionist muttered under her breath. "She's ranked at..." Her eyes widened. "S-Class?"

A hush fell over the room. The surrounding hunters, who had been casually listening in, suddenly straightened in their seats. Even So-ra raised an eyebrow.

Elara merely tilted her head. "Is that significant?"

So-ra let out a short laugh. "Significant? Lady, there are maybe a dozen S-Class hunters in the entire country. You just got classified as one fresh out of a dungeon."

The receptionist quickly finalized the paperwork. "You'll receive an official hunter license and identification in a few days, but for now, here's a temporary ID. Your registration with the Hunter's Association is complete. You'll be assigned a rank shortly, though with those readings, I doubt it'll be anything lower than high-tier S-Class."

Elara accepted the temporary ID, examining it curiously. The sleek card displayed her name—Elara Vellwyn—along with a ranking designation. This world was unfamiliar, yet some things remained constant. Strength held weight. Power dictated one's status.

With the registration complete, So-ra guided her out of the building. The city lights had fully come to life now, bathing the streets in a kaleidoscope of color. The sound of traffic, distant chatter, and the occasional hum of mana-powered technology filled the air.

"You're going to need a phone," So-ra said suddenly, leading Elara toward a nearby store. "No offense, but you look like the type who's never used one before."

Elara blinked. "That is... an accurate assumption."

So-ra chuckled. "Figured. Don't worry, I'll set you up."

The phone store was small but well-stocked, shelves lined with sleek devices glowing with holographic displays. So-ra wasted no time, picking out a high-end model and handling the purchase. "It's on me. Consider it a welcome-back gift."

Elara hesitated before accepting the device. "Thank you... This is most generous."

So-ra waved it off. "It's just a phone. You'll get used to it. Here, let me add my number."

She took the phone from Elara's hands, tapping quickly on the screen before handing it back. "There. Now you can call or text me if you need anything."

Elara stared at the glowing screen, her heart swelling with an unfamiliar warmth. This woman—this warrior—had shown her kindness without expecting anything in return. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around So-ra in a gentle embrace.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

So-ra stiffened slightly, caught off guard, but after a moment, she let out a breath and patted Elara's back. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't go hugging everyone like that, or people will get the wrong idea."

Elara pulled away, a small, genuine smile playing on her lips. "Noted."

As they stepped back onto the bustling streets, Elara glanced down at the phone in her hands. A new world, a new identity, and now—a new connection. The journey ahead was uncertain, but for the first time since returning, she didn't feel entirely alone.