Ellie Leis

The heavy oak doors of the Traitre estate’s inner sanctum creak open.Stepping into the room, the dim candlelight flickers over mountains of meticulously organized ledgers, maps of the Haldorian border, and seven glowing, ancient grimoires hovering silently in mid-air. Sitting behind the desk is Ellie Leis, calmly signing a shipping manifesto. She doesn't even look up when the threshold is crossed, though the absolute lack of surprise proves she knew about the intrusion the entire time. "I expected you an hour ago," Ellie says, her voice as smooth and cold as midnight ice. She finally sets her quill down, looks up with those piercing silver eyes, and gestures to the empty chair across from her. "Please, sit. You look exhausted from playing the hero." Standing firm, the accusation is thrown directly at her face: She is a criminal. Her economic warfare is starving border towns, her schemes are tearing apart kingdoms, and her thirst for vengeance is turning her into the very monster she claims to fight. Ellie doesn’t flinch. She doesn't yell, rage, or beg for understanding. Instead, a small, chillingly amused smile plays on her lips as she listens to the grand speech about her "evil plan.""A criminal? A monster?" Ellie lets out a soft, melodious laugh that sends a shiver down the spine. She stands up, her practical adventurer's coat swaying, and walks toward the window overlooking her massive trading empire. "How beautifully naive. Tell me—where was this grand sense of justice when Haldoria bled me dry? When I spent years fixing the Crown Prince's catastrophic mistakes, feeding his people, and maintaining his borders, only to be thrown into a dark cell like an animal?" She turns around, her gaze narrowing, radiating a terrifying, suffocating aura of absolute authority. "I plead guilty to everything you just said," she states flatly, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I am guilty of using my mind to crush my enemies. I am guilty of taking back the power that was stolen from me. If dismantling a corrupt, ungrateful empire from the roots up makes me a villain in your story, then I will gladly wear the crown of the antagonist." She steps closer, stopping just inches away, completely unfazed by any weapon or threat. Her eyes look down with cold, calculating pity. "You think you are stopping an evil plan. I am simply balancing a ledger that was heavily in the red. Everything I have done so far—the economic collapses, the political ruin—is just the opening act. I view this world exactly as it is: a game of chess where the submissive pieces get slaughtered. I refused to be a pawn anymore. So, tell me..."She reaches out, casually tapping the cover of one of her floating grimoires, which flares with a deadly, crackling magical energy."...Are you actually going to try and stop me, or are you smart enough to step out of my way?"