1. That One About Trucks and Getting Reincarnated

In my past life, I was a Japanese office worker, living in the middle of nowhere. I passed away at the ripe old age of twenty-nine.

After I graduated from a national university not too far away from home, my parents had pulled some strings with their connections to help me land a job at a local bank.

Honestly, I’d had it pretty good. My job hadn’t asked me to put in all that much overtime. As long as I’d hit my quotas and built some interpersonal connections of my own, I’d gotten along just fine. That basic Monday-through-Friday job meant I’d had two days off to myself every week, giving me plenty of time to explore my hobbies: chilling out on the internet and playing video games. You know, the easy bachelor life.

I mean, that was the boonies for you.

For a homebody like me, there really hadn’t been much fun stuff to do nearby. Even if I’d wanted to get married, there hadn’t been many women my age in the area. I had convinced my family that it didn’t matter much if I, their third son, got married or not. In my opinion, that’d been for the best—I’d ended up in an early grave, after all.

I’d been hit by a truck—a heroic sacrifice I’d made to save a valued client’s granddaughter. Good going, me! Although I had wanted to enjoy my life a bit longer, society appreciated that I saved a little girl’s life a lot more.

And so, before I’d realized what’d happened, I had been reborn into another world.

Boy, this light novel-esque world was cool as hell! I couldn’t believe that getting reincarnated somewhere else was actually a real thing. In the webnovels I had been really into in my past life, protagonists usually started out strong as babies, even before they hit one year old. They only kept getting stronger too. A number of these characters were born to noble or royal families. Sometimes, they’d end up being called heroes of legend!

But, well, it turned out that those cookie-cutter destinies in teenage fantasy tales didn’t actually exist.

I had been reborn to an ordinary, penniless farmer family. Emphasis on the penniless part. Living high in the wilderness of a craggy, mountainous region, I lived a quiet, unassuming life tilling tiny fields and keeping goats.

As far as hacks from being reincarnated went, I guess I had a little agricultural know-how from back when I’d helped my folks out in my past life...? There really wasn’t much arable land on these mountains to work with, but thanks to the knowledge and skills I possessed as the former son of a farming family (which, honestly, were probably anachronistic), I managed to keep us from starving to death.

That was just how bad my new birth family had it.

By the way, common education doesn’t even exist here. School? Never met her. Not even a glimpse of a schoolhouse could be found this deep in the mountains.

I had been more or less ready to die illiterate, but when I went to the “city” (aka the village at the base of the mountains) for the first time in my seventeen years here, my destiny was flipped on its head.

I caught sight of a sign hanging on a storefront’s door and figured I wouldn’t be able to read it. But as I stared at it, somehow, I found that the words weren’t as foreign as I thought. The writing was in a script near and dear to my heart: Japanese.

All aflutter, I asked a passerby what the name of the village was. Then, I asked for the name of the mountain range I lived in, and the name of the very country we were in. That was when I finally came to a stark realization.

The god of teenage fantasies wasn’t dead after all.

The world that had taken me in for a second chance at life was exactly like the MMORPG I’d played in my past life. If you’re not familiar, “MMORPG” is short for “massively multiplayer online role-playing game,” which is a game that tons of gamers (or just players) can play at the same time over the internet.

Among the many MMOs out there, the one I had played was called Golden Dawn Online. It was a fairly orthodox sword-and-magic RPG set in a medieval European fantasy world. I was one of the leading players in Golden Dawn, on the forefront of the latest cutting-edge content...in my dreams, at least.

Honestly, I had just played a mid-tier craftsman job with the ability to gather raw materials and craft a lot of small-scale items. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but gathering materials had been my bread and butter, and the depth of my knowledge regarding the map’s geography and all its gathering points bordered on the obscene.

I had even made an S-ranked item on my own! I just hadn’t been able to make SS- or SSS-ranked items because I was in a lower job tier! (Well, it wasn’t impossible for somebody to at least try or anything, but I would’ve had to be willing to risk blowing up my materials and making garbage instead...)

Anyway, after having that epiphany and filling my heart with hype, I got absolutely obsessed with crafting. I mean, once I tried it out, I became able to use basically all the same skills as my character in the game.

My dream had become a reality. I couldn’t squander this opportunity!

Thus began my days of running up and down and all around the Gaelius Mountains (where I’d been born and raised), collecting raw materials to craft things. The tiny, remote village I called my hometown was nestled in a valley amid the rocky peaks, and a bit deeper into the mountains, I built a man’s dream of dreams: a secret base to call my own.

Heh heh! Crafting’s awesome! It’s the best! Even if I couldn’t make much use of anything I could make. The restoratives, popularly called “potions,” aside, nothing I could make was practical enough for simple farmers. Bartering was the main form of trade out here, and I couldn’t even offer my crafts to others in these backwoods. As a result, I kept as many of the things I made as I possibly could, and as I continued to craft, I felt a sense of fulfillment from completing whole collections of items. Awesome.

And now, fast-forwarding to the present day... I was now twenty-five years old. Ever since the moment I had realized at seventeen that I’d reincarnated into a world very closely resembling a game I’d played before, I’d seen a lot of things come and go.

My fiancée, a friend I’d known practically since we’d been in the cradle, had ended our engagement. I had also laid my grandparents to their final resting places. They had taken care of me in lieu of my parents, who had passed away young. I had also crafted every single thing imaginable with the materials that could be found in the area.

My grandparents had been the only blood relatives I had left, and after standing vigil at their bedsides until they had finally departed this life, I no longer had anything binding me to these lands.

I was an orphan in my bloodline, leaving me as its only bearer.

Seeing as there was nothing left for me here, I figured I might as well leave home and spend the rest of my days gallivanting around the world of Golden Dawn. Since I lived in the sticks, I was painfully ignorant of this world and how it worked, but I was sure I’d figure it out. I still had my knowledge of the game in my pocket, after all.

Even if, for example, I were subjected to the fantasy genre’s trademark (Source? Me.) plot twist—getting duped into a human trafficking operation and being sold off as a slave—I had the power to escape at my fingertips. While I admit I wasn’t anywhere near as proficient in combat these days as the SSS-tier endgame players had been, I was still fighting fit and skilled enough to win my own tussles. Or, at least, B-tier ones.

Oh, right. Before they passed away, my grandparents had mentioned that people who reincarnated into this world while retaining memories of their past life—people like myself—were known as transmigrators. Though transmigrators were few in number, the phenomenon itself was not entirely unheard of.

I thought it might be nice to find other transmigrators and shoot the breeze with them. We could talk about our memories of our past lives.

I wonder if everyone was sent to this world by way of a truck? If so, that would be kind of heartbreaking...

I sold the goats.

My secret base was probably safe and sound. I mean, I had built it deep in the mountains in a terribly remote place, and I had zero regrets about that. Who needs convenience when you can have an impractical dream instead?

Deciding to abandon my ramshackle house to the whims of nature, I harvested my field’s meager crops for the last time. Maybe I’ll give them to the acquaintances who’ve helped me out.

I gathered an assortment of things I figured I might need for a long journey and placed them, along with what little else I owned, into the interdimensional storage that’d been granted to me by “Pocket Dimension,” a hack I had obtained upon being reincarnated.

Slinging the harvested vegetables over my back, I put the house I was born and raised in behind me.

My house was perched higher on the mountainside than even the nearest settlement, which was nestled in a valley between the peaks. Descending the mountain involved following a precipitous path. While hiking down didn’t present much of a problem, going back up was... Well, that didn’t matter, really. I wasn’t planning on returning.

And so, I arrived in the village at the foot of the mountain, where I just so happened to learn that we were embroiled in a war.

2. New Plans and the Long, Long Road to Adventure

Consumed by the chaos of battle, the village was awash in a sea of flames.

Enemy soldiers sped through the blaze on horseback, eviscerating any villagers unlucky enough to be in their path as they fled...

Just kidding. That only happens in fantasy stories.

For starters, I wasn’t a fresh-faced fifteen-year-old hero-to-be, but a bearded, twenty-five-year-old farmer. I simply learned that this country was at war from the bulletins posted on the village’s public announcement board.

Speaking of faces, mine wasn’t that of the character I had played in Golden Dawn. Since I was a living, breathing person rather than pixels in a game, my hair grew, and so did my beard. I didn’t have anything adroitly sharp and bladed like a razor, so I would keep it from getting too unruly with a knife. I doubted my countenance was very flattering, all things considered.

I was a burly, tanned mountain man—okay, maybe I didn’t exactly have the muscle mass to be appropriately “burly,” but you know what I meant. My long, black hair, weathered by years of the harsh sunlight common in the highlands, stretched all the way down my back, so I kept it tied with a simple cord.

To be clear, I didn’t actually have a tan from the sun—I just happened to be born with skin that was that color naturally. I got the feeling that my skin color was relatively rare in this world. I’d heard this kind of complexion being described as “olive” in my past life, and that seemed appropriate.

My eyes were olive as well—a dark, muted green coloring my irises. That being said, I hadn’t ever had the opportunity to look in a proper mirror, so I wasn’t too sure about the rest of my face. Besides, everyone knows looks don’t make the man, yeah?

As for my burly frame, well...the goal was to bulk up and get some muscle on these bones of mine, but my circumstances had never allowed me to get the proper nutrition to actually pull that off. Oh well. It’s not like a craftsman needs a lot of muscle anyway.

My height was more or less average. Not too tall, not too short, but just right. Nothing remarkable. And that pretty much summed up my current appearance in this reincarnated life.

The village square was full of people crowding around the public bulletin board. As an aside, this board had been built just a scant five years ago. Had it been erected before then, I would’ve realized everything was written in Japanese in this world much earlier. However, the board itself was a pointless expenditure in a village full of illiterate farmers—I should’ve just been happy that it had been put up at all.

As I neared the crowd and set my vegetable burden down at my feet, I called out to an acquaintance. “What’s with the grim look, Arowa? Bad news?”

He whipped his head around. “Oh, Kariya...”

Arowa was the blacksmith’s son and one of the few people I would call a friend. We’d grown up together. The creases on his brow deepened as he said my name. “Yeah, conscription. Some soldiers arrived earlier and gave a speech about it. Looks like things came to a head with our neighbors, and our liege lord is planning on supporting the war effort.”

I digested the news for a moment. “No way,” I groaned.

The lord of these lands was happy to leave monsters unculled and let them loiter about, but he was always exacting when it came to tax collection. He took about forty percent of our harvests, though I had no idea if that was steep or not. I wasn’t much of a political sim enthusiast in my last life.

The villagers were engaged in hushed conversations as they looked up at the posting on the board that’d been written in glyphs they couldn’t even read. They kept glancing in my direction too.

I sighed.

Arowa smiled bitterly and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “It’s a damn shame, Kariya. If you’d just left the village a little earlier, you wouldn’t have gotten dragged into this mess.”

I gave him a lighthearted grunt in agreement as I read through the announcement. It explained that, in alliance with the Raghion Empire, our country of Tiuccia was going to war with its neighboring country, Khrasiel. Raghion was the strongest of the three Central Nations, which was entirely unsurprising considering it had a lofty title like “the Empire” even in Golden Dawn.

Seven people, able-bodied men between the ages of fifteen and forty-five, were to be drafted from our little village. That meant one of every three men in the prime of their lives. I had no idea if that was a lot or not.

While they were in the service, arms and equipment would be provided, and they would also be fed and paid. However, the men would be responsible for any expenses accrued during the journey to the designated rendezvous town.

There were large-scale player-versus-player war events in Golden Dawn too. I had once joined one as logistical support, but it hadn’t been very fun, so I’d skipped those types of events after that.

Anyway, being conscripted meant that we’d basically be joining the war as E-tier NPCs. In the game, “NPC” was short for “non-playable character.” Unlike player-controlled characters (similarly shortened to “PC”), NPCs were characters in the game that behaved automatically according to their programming.

So, we were to be at the same level as those NPCs: bottom-of-the-barrel fighters that would serve as target practice.

Hmm. Push comes to shove, I guess I could just desert in the heat of battle.

Apparently, deserters were given the death penalty, but even if I were caught, I could just say I’d gotten separated from the main forces.

Occupied with contingency plans, I remained deep in thought for a moment. I turned to Arowa. “I’ll speak with the chief,” I said, but then I remembered the vegetables at my feet. “Oh, and here—take these. I won’t be eating them either way.”

He stared at me in surprise. “Are you planning on volunteering?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “I can’t claim I’ll become a war hero or anything, but at least I’m good at running.”

I set off for the village chief’s home. The surrounding villagers backed away, giving me a wide berth as if they wanted nothing to do with me. Ever since my engagement with the village chief’s daughter had been broken off eight years ago, they’d treated me like a tumor to be excised.

The chief’s daughter had been an old friend of mine as well, and she’d left for a live-in job in the village at the foot of the mountains. In the end, she had never come back.

I wasn’t all that sad about it. Even though we had promised to wait for each other, I knew she wouldn’t keep her end of it. My old life had taught me that those particular words weren’t worth much.

Besides, I could understand her parents wanting a better life for her—marriage to even a moderately moneyed individual would be far better than becoming the bride of a dirt-poor farmer.

I could be mature about this—guess I’m not an old crusty fart for nothing, yeah? Adding up my past and my current lives, I was at least fifty-four years old combined. But...eh. I couldn’t count my former life, not really. I was pretty sure my mental age was sprightly and youthful, influenced by my tender visage. Maybe.

The chief was overjoyed that I was offering myself up as a volunteer for the draft instead of simply putting the village behind me. I also informed him that I didn’t plan on ever coming back here, even once the war ended.

Relief washed over his face. He handed me a pittance of a travel stipend and sent me on my way.

It would probably take hours for them to select the other six men to send off to war, so I decided to head for the rendezvous ahead of them and take in the sights as I traveled.

Yeah. This’ll be like going for a fun jaunt.

Even though war was on the horizon and I was going to have to deal with it, I was reacting to being drafted like I was heading on a school field trip. It wasn’t just bravado either. Being a transmigrator, I apparently had retained some skills from my character, so my combat proficiency was higher than that of the average NPC in this world.

The highest tier an NPC could be placed in was B. My combat proficiency had also been ranked at a B, despite the fact that I had played a crafting job. Because of that, I figured I could hold my own in a fight against the average person.

Oh, but if I were up against another transmigrator, I’d definitely be toast. If there were an SSS-tier combat specialist among the enemy ranks? I’d be dead before I even moved. That “Godslayer” title was no joke, after all.

In the best of circumstances, my detachment and I would be instantly defeated. And in the worst... Never mind. It’s not a good idea to think about bad things—some people would say that’d trip a flag.

I bid farewell to some longtime acquaintances whom my grandparents and I had known. Then, I set out on the road, leaving behind the village that had raised me.

3. Promotion Before Battle

The Gaelius Mountains, where I’d been born and raised after my reincarnation, were a stretch of unwelcoming, infertile land. The monsters that prowled these highlands were ranked C to B, although monsters up to S could be found deeper in the mountains.

While it was nowhere near as dangerous as, say, the deadly edgelands talked about in hushed whispers and called “the End of the World” or some nonsense, it was still a difficult zone among the beginner areas.

In Golden Dawn, the Gaelius Mountains was one of the least popular zones, simply because it was barren and desolate there. The dreary mountain face continued on practically forever, and no decent vegetation could be found for miles. In other words, there was almost nothing I could use for crafting. None of the gathering points here produced any significant amount of ore. No SSS-ranked materials (like orichalcum) could be found here either.

Even the monsters were of middling rank. If your goal was to level up, players typically left the central starter areas, also known as the Central Nations, to farm experience points in remote zones. But, of course, all that information was just my knowledge of the game from my past life.

In this new world, the Gaelius Mountains were known as a monster-infested place of death. And I had hailed from those hostile lands. Maybe that was why I began my new military life as the leader of a platoon.

***

“The reason you were selected to be a platoon leader? That’s simple—it’s because you can read.”

“I knew it.”

Two weeks had passed since I had left home. With my heart still buoyed by the prospect of sightseeing on this trip, I had finally arrived at the rendezvous point—the camp in the mercantile town of Ruicerl. There, my excitement had been swiftly shattered.

I would basically be a gofer for the army’s service corps.

The service corps was apparently the branch that handled tasks like managing supplies and transport at the rear of the main forces. Logistics, essentially. Since they were busy with preparations for the conscripted farmers pouring into Ruicerl one after another, the army couldn’t keep up with the paperwork.

There were only so many knights and soldiers that could be spared. They needed assistance, so anyone who seemed reasonably able to help with clerical work was pulled from the conscripts.

I wasn’t a special case. Everyone in this room was a merchant, a school teacher, or similar. My hair was an odd color compared to the others, but I stood out for other reasons. Between my ragged clothing and long, scruffy hair, everything about me screamed “barbarian”—and one who had freshly come down from the mountains at that. I had thought about buying a new set of clothes and getting a haircut before deployment, but before I had been able to do any of that, I had been pulled aside.

It’d happened when I’d been at the counter handing out provisions for soldiers. They had seemed to be in dire need of assistance where bookkeeping was concerned, so I had offered to help straighten it out. While I had been doing that, I’d happened to catch the eye of the lord knight in charge of the service corps—the very group I was now serving.

Blond and blue-eyed, this man was the young lordling of some noble house. I’d heard some of the junior officers calling him “Leto,” but I hadn’t managed to catch the name of his house.

His speech was genteel, having the clear markings of an excellent upbringing, and he was friendly and affable even toward commoners. Because of that, all the people who’d ended up in the service corps were doing their utmost to repay his kindness.

Work had finally begun to settle down, at least enough to afford a moment for some light chatter...and for some reason, his conversation partner of choice was me.

“Personnel who can read and write are valuable,” Leto explained to me. “I heavily respect the drive to learn, as well as the personal and cultural refinement that comes with being a learned individual.”

I couldn’t think of a decent response to that.

To tell the truth, I had deliberately pretended to be illiterate back home. The reason had been simple—had people known, they would’ve pushed all sorts of random jobs on my plate.

The ability to read and write was rare among ordinary farmers because they wouldn’t have received the education to do so. I hadn’t wanted anyone to expect anything of me, so the only people who’d known I was literate had been my close family. Considering where I had ended up the very second the cat had gotten out of the bag, it looked like my decision to hide it all this time had been correct.

When asked how I had learned my glyphs out in the middle of nowhere, I’d explained it away as having been taught by my grandmother. I hadn’t let on to the fact that I was a transmigrator yet, and honestly, I didn’t think I ever would. I’d be happy enough to be a mere craftsman of middling ability. Besides, if it were to come to light and the reaction I got was along the lines of “Wow, you’re not much for a transmigrator,” I’m pretty sure I’d get annoyed.

Leto smiled gently at me. “You can also handle elementary arithmetic in your head. If you were a regular serviceman instead of a conscript, I’d poach you for my own unit in a heartbeat,” he remarked before shaking his head. “But if I did that, then I suppose we’d be short a person to unify the conscripts from Gaelius.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure there must be plenty of people who are stronger than me and better qualified to be a leader too.”

“Capable people who have the acuity to think and act independently are bound to get promoted anyway. I personally selected you for platoon leader, so do your best and don’t die out there. I hope you’ll continue serving even after the war ends,” Leto said, pausing hesitantly. “I don’t suppose you have anyone waiting for you back home, do you?”

The question curiously came off like he’d gotten his hopes up. But—and I know it was a little silly for me to point this out—I was just a peasant farmer. Did that mean this world wasn’t so particular about socioeconomic hierarchies? Or maybe Leto was just a really nice guy. It was probably the latter.

I was impressed that he had the heart to be considerate of the families people had left behind. Countryside peasants who traveled to the city for work ordinarily went unaccompanied, and the people they left behind might wait years upon years for their return. In the end, plenty of people never came back...just like my fiancée.

“Both of my parents passed away when I was young, and my grandparents recently did as well. I don’t have any blood relatives left, but thank you for your concern,” I replied.

That elicited a response not from Leto, but from someone else entirely.

“Kariya, I’m pretty sure Leto was asking whether you had someone you were considering settling down with.”

That comment had come from a guy who’d told me he ran an inn at our first meeting. Butting into our conversation, he was shaking with mirth.

“Yeah, is there anyone in your village you’ve got your eye on?”

“Or maybe he’s asking whether you’re lonely at night.”

I was peppered with quips from the already-married peanut gallery.

A stable life presented the opportunity for study. It also made it easier to snag a wife. So, that being the case, the only people in this room who were still unwed bachelors were me, a poverty-stricken farmer, and his lordship himself.

Our stations in life were just too different. But instead of voicing my objection, I went along with their friendly ribbing. “There aren’t many women in my village, so having a partner is rarer than not. Besides, there’s a brothel in the village at the foot of the mountains, so everyone just goes there to get their fix,” I said.

“Did you go with ’em?”

“Not at all; I don’t have the money,” I replied. “But it’s not like I was alone, even though the house was empty once my grandparents passed away—I slept with my goats at night.”

Dead silence.

No one said a word. That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.

Engulfed by an uncomfortable amount of laser-pointed stares that made me want to bolt, I confusedly turned my words over in my mind. Were they bothered by how unsanitary it was to sleep around livestock? I did use a deodorant I had crafted myself to remove the animal smell...

I tried to fill the silence. “It gets cold at night in the mountains, and I didn’t want them to freeze to death in the goat pen, so I let them into the house...” I said, trailing off.

Still no response.

Wait a second, I think I got it...

“Just to be clear, I didn’t have sex with my goats, okay?”

“O-Oh yeah,” one of them said, finally breaking their silence. “I’d never do it myself, but a guy I know said it felt pretty good, so I was just wondering...”

“Yeah,” another said. “Apparently, goats are a pretty good lay.”

Do people here engage in bestiality? I used to be a Japanese man, and that was something that had never crossed my mind, not even for a second. I guess it’s possible...but there’s zero chance I’d ever try it.

4. Goodbye, Beard

All righty. Time to get my beard shaved.

I had wrapped up my work for the day, and I rubbed my chin as I left, lost in thought about my upcoming schedule. If I continued neglecting my appearance, people would never stop staring at me, and that bothered me a lot more than my beard. Well, that and the fact that my unit was going to be deployed to the front lines tomorrow.

We finally had a good number of soldiers, and including me, we were twenty-nine men strong. If I didn’t deal with my scruffiness now, and if we left while I was looking like a wild barbarian, I wouldn’t have the right to complain about my appearance later. Unsurprisingly for a game world, the army had mages skilled in water magic, so I’d at least be able to wash my face.

I’d heard that razors would be distributed to each section, so I had waited for ours to arrive...but would we really be getting them? We were literally going to be leaving tomorrow, but we still hadn’t gotten any.

Since I was heading to the barber to get my beard shaved, I figured I might as well get my hair cut at the same time.

Drafted soldiers continued to arrive at Ruicerl, but as a rule, they were forbidden from passing through the gates into the city proper. I guess they were worried that public safety and sanitation might be compromised if a ton of people poured in at once.

That being the case, dozens of tents were erected around the city’s walls to house the conscripts. My sleeping quarters were likewise in one such tent.

Of course, wherever large groups of people went, opportunistic merchants were sure to follow. These types popped up around our camp, intent on bartering with the newly arrived conscripts. Apparently, they were planning to move out with us once we departed so they could continue with their business. While we comprised the rearguard, we were still heading into a war zone. Never underestimate a businessman’s desire for profit, I guess.

One of those opportunists must’ve set up a barbershop... Yeah, I’ll have them take care of my beard and cut my hair. The one knife I owned was so dull that cutting my hair was a whole ordeal in itself.

While crafting items was my hobby, I also dabbled in making weapons and armor. Unfortunately, I had chosen a non-metal alignment for my character, so my affinity with metals was pretty bad. I was fairly sure that was part of the reason the blade on my knife was so dull.

“Hey, Kariya!”

As I left the barracks to look for a barber, a voice called out to me from behind. The person who stopped me was none other than Leto.

“You’re leaving for the front lines tomorrow, right?” he asked. “Have you already finished packing and everything? This might be your last day in Ruicerl, so, um, if you’re free at the moment—”

I had to interrupt him. “Oh, I was about to go get a haircut. I gotta do something about my beard too,” I said, laughing awkwardly. I really wanted to clean myself up before we left.

Leto looked at me as I laughed, and I felt like withering under his gaze. I really should have taken better care of my appearance...

“If that’s the case, then there’s a barber in the barracks as well. You can go ahead and get trimmed there,” said Leto. “Don’t worry; I’ll talk to them and make sure that they know you’ve got permission.”

I tried to object, but in the end, I decided to take him up on his goodwill.

There weren’t any other patrons in the room in the barracks being used as a barbershop. I noticed two hand mirrors lying face down on a table—they must’ve been for customers to check their cut once it was finished. There had been nothing even remotely like a mirror in my village, or any other luxury items, for that matter. Seeing them got me a little excited.

Oh, but that wasn’t to say I didn’t have a general sense of what I looked like—I’d seen my face reflected in buckets of drawn water, at least. I didn’t think I looked that bad. Besides, looks don’t make the man!

Well, here I am. Seated in a chair, I closed my eyes as I lifted my chin. I asked the barber to shave off my beard before cutting my hair. The sensation of having my beard scrubbed and having shaving cream lathered into it kind of tickled. After that, the smooth edge of the razor deftly cut away at the bubbly mass of hair there. Once that was finished, the barber ran hot water over a cloth, wrung the excess water out, and wiped down my face with it.

“Well, well,” I heard him mutter.

Since he didn’t give me any further directions after that, I figured he must’ve finished. I opened my eyes.

“Oh, could I get a look at myself in the mirror?” I asked.

The barber seemed a little distracted, but he snapped out of his daze and hurriedly handed me one. I looked at my reflection and promptly checked my stubble.

Thank god. The last time I had been clean-shaven was so long ago that I had completely forgotten whether I tended to end up with a five o’clock shadow or not. It seemed like I was on the lucky side. My roots weren’t thick or wiry either, so the hair follicles didn’t stand out.

I was relieved—it wasn’t as though I had grown a beard because I’d wanted to, after all. If I’d had a decent razor with a sharp blade, I would’ve been shaving daily, like I had in my old life. I swore to myself that I’d take better care of my appearance starting tomorrow—it felt much better not looking like a barbarian.

Leto peered at me curiously as well. After a moment of study, he quietly commented, “I thought you might’ve had a tan, but has your skin always been that shade?”

I nodded. “It’s hard to tell if it’s from the sun or not, yeah. But to answer your question, yes, this is how I was born. Since the sunlight’s so harsh up in the mountains, it’s best to avoid overexposure. I was always careful about keeping my skin covered. But even so, it’s not that my face and hands are tan—this is just how I am.”

To accentuate my assertion, I tugged the collar of my top down a little, revealing the smooth, olive tones beneath.

Still, though... I looked back at the mirror and couldn’t help but continue staring at my reflection in it. “Um,” I started hesitantly, “It’s kind of embarrassing for me to ask this, but... I’m, uh, pretty good-looking, don’t you think?”

Oh, how Leto laughed at that.

I had been thinking that the face in the mirror looking back at me was, well, rather handsome, but maybe I had been overestimating myself. After all, most people in this world were better looking than not. Since Golden Dawn allowed players to customize their character’s appearance, the game was populated with tons of gorgeous people. The world I had reincarnated into was no different.

If I had to say, even Leto was real easy on the eyes, and he was such a nice guy to boot. I’d been kinda hoping that I had been blessed with a pretty face too. In the end, I was satisfied with my looks. Honestly? I was even kinda dashing.

5. A White Ribbon

As I was returning to my tent, I ran into Arowa. He’d also ended up getting drafted into the army. He didn’t recognize me, and I couldn’t blame him for that, but I wish he had spared me the wheedling “Excuse me, but who might you be, sir?”

It was obvious why he hadn’t figured it out right away—I was sporting new apparel. Well, that and the fact that my hair was tied back with a white ribbon.

Leto had given me the new clothes, saying that it was okay for me to wear them, given my station as a platoon leader. The pieces were actually part of the uniform meant for regular soldiers. He could probably tell I hadn’t gone shopping for a change of clothes yet.

At first, I had refused to accept his gift; the garments were just too fine for me. But Leto had insisted, telling me to reconsider on the basis that I ought to dress as befitting my position. I had ended up putting them on right then and there.

The ribbon tying my hair back was also from Leto. He had given it to me after the barber had finished trimming my damaged split ends. Since both men and women customarily wore their hair long in this world, I did so as well. It reached the middle of my back, stopping just above my waist.

I didn’t wear it this way to be trendy or anything—I simply preferred it long for practical reasons. Having hair around my ears and neck helped keep the bite of winter’s chill at bay. Besides, it was easy enough to tie it back with a cord during warmer seasons.

I had the feeling that the ribbon I was using in place of a cord was a little too eye-catching, and Arowa’s reaction told me I was right. It was a pure-white silk ribbon, bereft of any blemishes.

This was far too fancy for a peasant, Leto. But since it was a gift, I hadn’t had much of a choice. I had to wear it.

When I silently grimaced at Arowa instead of replying to his question, he finally realized who I was. “Oh, it’s you, Kariya. Right, I guess that is what your face looks like.”

He laughed awkwardly, explaining that he couldn’t recognize me right away without my beard.

Oh, so it wasn’t the ribbon that made him think I was a stranger—it was my clean-shaven face.

“I thought you were some noble,” he admitted. “What happened to your beard? I thought you liked it.”

“I’ve been wanting to shave for ages, but I just couldn’t. Do you remember that time I asked you to sharpen a small knife for me? You said there was no saving it, so you melted it down to fix a pot. Well, that knife was the family shaver, even back when my grandpa was our age,” I huffed.

Arowa shrugged unaffectedly. “You know they would sell razors at the village down the mountain, right?” But, realizing his faux pas, he immediately apologized. “Sorry.”

Right—the village that my fiancée had never returned to. Even though it was the nearest village to our settlement, I no longer had a reason to visit after she’d left. He was well aware of that fact.

I spoke again to clear the awkwardness from the air. “Well, eventually I stopped caring about shaving, so I let it grow out. And that’s how I ended up with a beard.”

“You know what? Yeah. I can definitely see you doing that.” Suddenly, his face hardened into a terse grimace. It was unsettling, given he was usually relaxed and in good cheer.

After that, he silently beckoned me to follow him. When we neared the center of the sea of tents, we sat cross-legged on the ground, facing each other.

Ruicerl was a duty station where soldiers were kept on standby, so we usually slept in sleeping bags in our tents. But since we were moving out tomorrow, I supposed that tonight we’d just be sleeping in a huddle on the ground with blankets instead.

I’d heard that wars were conventionally waged in the winter, after the harvest. Right now, fall was on its way out. It was a shame, since I’d been hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with the cold. At least the plains seemed significantly easier to survive in than in the depths of Gaelius, so I doubted I’d freeze to death. Probably.

Still... Sleeping with other people, huh?

Musing on the idea, I tugged on the end of the white ribbon in my hair. “I bet this’ll get dirty right away since it’s white. I can’t be getting a gift mucked up, huh? Guess I’ll have to be careful.”

Arowa didn’t say anything for a long moment, but eventually, he responded. “Listen, I know this might be kind of rude of me to ask, but you got those threads from that lordling who’s been chatting you up lately, right? Are you sleeping with him?”

“Excuse me?” That had taken me off guard. I stared at him, perplexed.

Considering the veil of awkwardness that settled over Arowa, he must’ve meant that kind of “sleeping.”

“No,” I denied it flatly. “Leto’s a guy.”

Arowa wasn’t deterred. “That’s exactly why I’m asking. I’ve been a married man for a while now, so I haven’t gotten propositioned, but you’ve had secret nighttime trysts and stuff yourself, haven’t you?” he asked. But then, he must’ve realized the ridiculousness of his comment because he immediately corrected himself. “I guess not, though. Your house was so far away. Trying to get there at night would practically be asking to die.”

“Exactly.” I shrugged. “I can’t say I would’ve recommended that anyone try to visit me at night back home. It’d be easy to get lost in the darkness, and even if you didn’t fall to your death somewhere along the way, the roaming monsters would get you.”

As I answered him, I got the feeling that I knew what my old friend was trying to tell me. I thought midnight house calls were a courtship ritual mainly between men and women, with the former looking for a bride, but I guess it happened between men in this world as well.

Given Arowa’s concerns, I could guess that people thought that I’d gotten my assignment and my new clothes by selling myself to a nobleman. On top of that, it sounded like people also assumed I had been sleeping with other guys back in the village.

I bit my lip. “Just how exactly did you see me up until now?”

“Don’t be mad,” Arowa began apologetically. “Let’s just forget about what I said. Now that I think about it, you were always sporting that beard of yours. It’s been ages since I’ve seen your face so clearly, so I guess my imagination just ran wild. Sorry.”

He gazed at me solemnly as he apologized, and his expression remained somber. “I only brought it up because I know exactly how ignorant the other villagers and I were. We don’t know anything about the big, wide world. And I’m worried that you’re even worse off than us, considering how much you stayed shut in your house. So listen, okay? Don’t go walking around at night on your own from now on, or you might find yourself pinned under someone bigger and stronger.”

I didn’t know what to make of his warning. “Are there no brothels near the camp?” I asked.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “There are guys who figure they can just beat someone till they’re willing if they get turned down, you know. Those types aren’t gonna want to pay for sex. We’re heading into a battlefield—emotions’ll be running high, people are gonna wanna get off, and at the end of the day, a hole’s a hole. Some guys might not have gotten it up with the beard, but now that that’s gone...” Arowa trailed off, looking for the right words. “Anyway, if someone propositions you, just drop your lordling’s name and get out of there.”

Arowa’s suggestion made me reflect on what Leto had said when he had given me the ribbon. “He told me that if anyone tried to pick a fight with me over the ribbon, I could get them to stand down by using his name, Sir Leto Brattor. I was surprised—he’s our liege lord’s nephew.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he mentioned that to help keep people off your back. Well, that’s great that you’ve got a nobleman willing to be your shield. No one’ll go after you if they know that.” Then, he paused. “But if Leto himself comes for you, I doubt that excuse will do any good.”

“Man...” I sighed. Now, I was fearing for my ass before I’d even gotten the chance to fear for my life on the battlefield.

I could just run away if Leto called on me...or maybe not. After all, the punishment for desertion was death.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place...

6. Easy Job! Just Bring Your Own Arrows

Why had I been selected for platoon leader, really? I was a mere farmer, after all.

While my ability to read and write had indeed been one of the reasons, it wasn’t the only one. Apparently, the real reason for my promotion was that a platoon made purely of people from the Gaelius Mountains had been established.

Powerful monsters (at least comparatively, for the central regions) roamed the mountains, and we had always been their hunters.

We had no choice, really. The mountains were so barren and inhospitable that, try as we might, our crops had never yielded enough food for us to subsist on. Hunting monsters was the only way we could survive. We could sell the pelts and bones as raw materials, and their meat was edible too. It was revolting, sometimes, but we had still eaten it—beggars couldn’t be choosers.

If we hadn’t hunted them, we might as well have sentenced ourselves to death. Life was just that harsh in the mountains.

So, compared to the peaceful farmers that lived in other regions, we were experienced fighters. The vast majority of peasants had E-tier combat skills—the lowest combat proficiency that could be expected from NPCs. Gaelians, on the other hand, started at D. Some of our especially skilled fighters were even at C.

Regular soldiers who had undergone an adequate amount of training were being deployed to the front lines. Despite our lack of formal training, we were also being deployed, but our roles were slightly different: We were designated as a commando unit.

Our orders were simply to “act as the situation demands”—in other words, we were free to attack the enemy at will. Furthermore, if we located any monsters that had wandered onto the battlefield, we were to dispatch them immediately.

Of those two directives, I’d say we were mainly concerned with the latter.

Our forces’ troops were squaring off with the enemy army at Croway Plains, a place where monsters commonly nested. Most of the monsters in the plains were unremarkable beasts of low rank, meaning that they weren’t really an issue. The actual problem was that they served as prey for larger, more savage monsters.

The Black Forest (Yeah, I know, the name is cliché as hell, but that’s what it was called in the game, okay?) was an area that lay directly east of Croway. The monsters that called it home would come creeping out of it in search of food during the winter.

On average, the monsters from the Black Forest were C-rank. I was sure that even a group of untrained adult men could defeat one, but it was too dangerous to leave things to chance. Occasionally, a monster of a higher level than the rest of its brethren would appear, and that was when things could go sideways really quickly.

Our role was to kill these monsters before they got anywhere near the areas we were occupying. A simple job for a Gaelian, really. All we had to do was shoot them down from afar. But, on the off chance that we failed to take one down before it approached our position, we’d have to switch to melee combat.

***

“I wonder why we don’t just have wars in the summer. That way, monsters wouldn’t come out of the forest to attack us, you know?”

My bosom buddy voiced his thoughts aloud as he kept a relaxed eye out over the rustling grasses of the plains. Next to him, I was repairing his bow, checking the tension of the bowstring, and tightening it up.

Somewhat distracted, I said, “The Croway Plains are known to flood during the summer, so this whole place becomes a marsh. The bug swarms are so bad that even monsters won’t bother coming out here. But that’s also why no one lives here. The land can’t be cultivated.”

He glanced at me. “Did your grandpa teach you that too? That guy knew pretty much everything.”

“He sure did,” I said, agreeing with him.

The truth, of course, was that I was drawing on my knowledge from my previous life. I might’ve been ignorant about the ways of the world at large, but I knew a lot of oddly specific trivia, and I played that off as being things I’d learned from my grandparents.

They had hailed from some place outside the mountains and, for some reason, ended up living outside the village. I had actually inherited my complexion from my grandmother too. I hadn’t asked them where they’d come from, but I’m sure my grandmother had her own reasons. Or maybe I was just being a presumptuous grandson, imagining that there was something special about her.

Still, they really had known a lot. Thanks to the knowledge they’d bequeathed to me, I was able to hunt and cook most monsters.

“All right, I’m done fixing up your bow,” I said. “Go call the others over. Oh, and make sure you address me as ‘lieutenant’ from now on.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Taking his bow from me, he straightened up as taut as a bowstring himself and saluted me before running off.

I smiled bemusedly as I watched him go. Then, I got to my feet, rolling my shoulders.

Time to get to work.

After I’d gotten my beard shaved, some of the guys started giving me crap, like saying I’d job-changed from a barbarian to a pretty boy. And since the fact that I was being backed by a nobleman had gotten out, the harassment had worsened. People had even made passes at me.

Arowa and my other hunting buddies—people I had known from around the village—had been cooperative and always did as I asked, but guys from other villages couldn’t do anything without giving me grief.

Seeing as playing Mr. Nice Guy wasn’t going to get me anywhere with them, I’d decided to try my hand at being Sgt. Hardass from the nastiest boot camp movies I could remember...at least until we arrived at Croway, where we were now.

No one wanted to die out here, myself included.

I meant, if the softest civilian was supposed to avoid dying on the battlefield, they were gonna need some training, right? I’d seen drill sergeants in anime, manga, movies, and novels, you name it. By drawing on every last shred of teenage nerd expertise from my misbegotten youth, I was gonna turn these peasants into real men.

And I gotta say...it was hella fun.

“Fall in line, maggots!”

With bows on their backs, the twenty-eight men under my command split into two perfectly straight lines in front of me.

I was inspecting each and every one of them before we moved out to ensure they were all appropriately prepared. This was one of the advantages of moving in a small group.

One of them had a loose belt. I kicked him in the gut.

“Do you want to die in this godforsaken plain? Get your gear straightened out like I told you!” I yelled.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t notice!” he gasped, his voice strained.

“The only words I want to hear from you are ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir,’ got it?” I snapped. “Now try that again.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

I realized I was probably going way too far, though it hit me a little belatedly. But role-playing a drill sergeant was really fun.

Everyone was watching me. I didn’t know what to make of the look on their faces, but they weren’t actually thrilled by this, were they...? I must’ve been imagining things.

I had the feeling the guy I kicked wasn’t exactly holding his gut either; his hands seemed to be a little lower than that. But I was probably imagining that too.

Yeah. I’m definitely just imagining things.

“Today, we’re going to keep patrolling the edge of the woods. Clear out all enemies!” I ordered. “And if you see a monster, I want its head on a platter. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!” they shouted in unison.

“Don’t try to be a hero. Don’t try to act tough. You think a monster’s gonna die from the prick of a single worthless arrow? No! You’re all just powerless, scum-sucking slugs! But even the nastiest beast will feel the sting of two dozen arrows. We move in a group, we turn our target into a pincushion, and we string it up for dinner!”

“Yes, sir!”

“And no matter what, don’t slack on your signals! As long as you work together, there’s no enemy you can’t beat. Now, let’s move out!” I shouted, then punctuated my speech with a battle cry. “Annihilate them all!”

My men rallied back with a rousing cheer that echoed across the plains.

Whoops, the birds all flew away. I’m sorry that we’re a bunch of noisy assholes.

Interestingly, they’d all picked up on the whole “yes, sir, no, sir” thing like it was perfectly normal. Maybe it had already entered mainstream knowledge from previous transmigrators—I guess I wasn’t the first person who’d given in to their teenage fantasies here.

Drawing their bows, my men dropped to a low crouch in the tall grass and began to sprint toward the Black Forest. I followed up the rear, occasionally checking over my shoulder as I ran.

Visibility in the plains was absolutely terrible. The sparse trees, shrubbery, and long grass that grew to a man’s height made sure of that.

I was certain that both our own camp and the enemy’s encampment were somewhere near the center of the plains, ready to square off against one another. But as of yet, there were no signs of warfare as far as the eye could see. Croway was more like a picturesque sea of grass right now, but I was certain that the two armies would turn these plains into a bloody battlefield before long.

7. Traces of a Transmigrator

“Fire!”

While hiding among the trees that dotted the line between the Black Forest and the Croway Plains, we released a shower of arrows on a group of Khrasiel soldiers.

We pretty much never had to deal with return fire.

The enemy was in the plains with little to no cover, while we were invisible in the forest. We could shoot down infantry who tried to approach us before they got anywhere close.

Their cavalrymen didn’t have any better luck. Knowing that they’d be at a disadvantage on horseback in the woods, they refused to enter. That being said, they couldn’t simply move away from the tree line either. If they traveled deeper into the plains and outside the reach of our arrows, they would find that the sea of grass became a marsh.

How was it possible that the plains could retain enough heat from the summer to maintain the wetlands despite it being winter? The answer was simple—they couldn’t. However, we could just make our own marsh. This was an improvised tactic made possible by the water mages in our army.

Maybe the small groups of enemy soldiers that we had encountered had been ambush units trying to maneuver to our flank or rear for a surprise attack. They may have been ordered to retreat if they were discovered. In that case, all they’d have to do to avoid detection was travel through the Black Forest...which sounded like a good idea on paper. However, they couldn’t—and wouldn’t—do that, given that it’d be tantamount to suicide. The Black Forest was a den of monsters.

My platoon could skirt the forest due to special monster-repelling potpourri sachets I’d crafted for them.

Another win for my imported knowledge! Playing the “Item Master” job wasn’t a complete and total waste of time after all!

That being said, we only hid in the Black Forest during daylight hours. Staying until nightfall was reckless and completely off the table, as twilight was when the more vicious monsters would go on the hunt. When we took our rest, we made sure to be a good distance away from the forest for that very reason.

Since the enemy didn’t have their own way to repel monsters, it was impossible for them to travel through the forest.

At least, I had assumed so.

“Lieutenant, what—”

I silently raised my pointer finger to my lips, shushing the soldier. He immediately stopped talking.

I beckoned my men to follow me, and we crept between the trees, taking care not to make any noise that might reveal our presence. Though the sun was still blazing high in the sky, the woods were consumed by a dim gloom that thickened as we moved deeper in and away from the edge of the forest.

The sounds of ragged breathing and wet mastication grew louder as we slowly approached the source. In a small clearing where the sun had managed to break through the canopy above, a dzepel was single-mindedly digging up the earth.

Dzepels were C-rank monsters—gigantic boars with an ultramarine blue coat. Though this particular specimen was still a juvenile and not yet full-grown, it would still be difficult for the average NPC to bring down.

I judged that the Gaelian hunters would be able to kill it and had my men spread out to surround it. The impromptu “boot camp” I’d put my men through had been effective. They correctly interpreted the orders I gave them through hand gestures alone and moved without making a single noise.

Once everyone was in place and had prepared themselves, we waited for the perfect opening.

The dzepel pressed its face into the hole in the dirt.

Now!

I signaled to my men, and we all unleashed a volley of reinforced arrows on the creature.

Fire!

Of course, I’d been the one who improved the regular provisioned arrows for them. Thanks to my craftsman job, I could upgrade weapons as long as they weren’t made from metal. The hours I had whiled away into the night to improve our arrows had paid off.

Now covered entirely in fortified shafts, the dzepel whipped its head out of the ground and bellowed in rage.

Dzepel roars were stunning—as in they left a stun status effect on those who heard it. As you might expect, several of my men dropped their bows in fright, and others found their movements had become slow and clumsy.

But the roar hadn’t had any effect on me. Fitting an enchanted arrow to my bowstring, I aimed it directly at the dzepel’s wide-open mouth and released it.

Sorry, big boy! I reincarnated with my old character’s stats! No puny C-rank monster is gonna hit me with a status effect!

Well, maybe I was getting ahead of myself. I was only an S-tier crafter—my combat proficiency capped out at B. Still, given the clear difference in power between myself and the dzepel, I was sure I had the right to brag a little.

The fire arrow shot straight down the monster’s gullet and roasted it alive from the inside out, killing it instantly. Its legs buckled, and it fell on its side.

That arrow has also been the product of the time I’d spent modifying and improving its efficacy.

Anyway, I watched the dzepel for a moment to verify that it had completely stilled. When I stepped into the clearing and neared its corpse, my men also followed suit.

“No sign of any other monsters in the area. Lieutenant, what’ll we do with this beast?” asked one.

“I want it dressed down and butchered immediately—while others keep watch, of course. It’ll make for a pretty tasty meal, so we’ll bring it back and cook it up. Whatever we can’t finish ourselves, we’ll share with the guys back at the main camp. Maybe we can land ourselves some favors.”

The men’s excited cheers echoed throughout the clearing.

I quickly divided everyone into two groups; one group would handle butchering the dzepel while the other kept watch. The men quickly began carving up the massive beast into more portable chunks.

“Hurry up. The stench of blood will draw more monsters,” I warned.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Arowa asked me in a hushed whisper. There was concern written all over his face.

“I want to bring back proof that we encountered a dzepel,” I explained to him. “We can use it in our report—I don’t want anyone calling us liars. Besides, it really does taste pretty good. If everything goes well, we might even get ourselves a couple of bottles to go with our commendations.”

Excited cheers rang out around us. The men must’ve been listening in on our conversation. I smiled at the shrewd calculators and then turned back to Arowa.

“Hey, look at this,” I said, nudging a section of upturned earth that the dzepel had been pawing with the tip of my boot. “Do you know what these mushrooms are?”

Underfoot and covered in dirt were the crushed remains of some white mushrooms.

“No, I’ve never seen those back in Gaelius,” Arowa replied. “Do they only grow in the Black Forest?”

A nearby soldier joined our conversation. “Yeah. Looks like they’re a type of mushroom that can grow even in winter. I saw clusters of them at the forest line, although those ones were smaller than these.”

“I see.”

I nodded to the soldier in appreciation for the information and then knelt down. I picked up a mushroom that had narrowly escaped being eaten by the dzepel and carefully wrapped it up with a handkerchief so that it wouldn’t be crushed. Then, I stowed it away in the pouch I kept slung on my hip.

I’d recognized these mushrooms from my previous life, though I hadn’t actually seen them myself back then. I had just happened to see a screenshot of them on a strategy guide website dedicated to Golden Dawn.

Once these mushrooms grew to a certain size, they developed an ability to lure wild monsters. They were so powerful that they were essentially a narcotic. But if one of these mushrooms were damaged in any way, it would lose its potency.

This mushroom wasn’t endemic to the Black Forest, though. In fact, it wasn’t a naturally occurring mushroom at all. It was actually an item created by alchemy that was designed to attract monsters. Only A-tier alchemists could make them. And in Golden Dawn, NPCs were only B-tier alchemists or lower.

The only type of person who would have had the skills and knowledge to create these mushrooms and place them inside the Black Forest like this was a transmigrator.

8. Visiting a Certain Someone

Outside of scheduled resupplies, we’d been told by the top brass not to return to the base camp. We decided to drop by anyway, hauling in some fresh food (even if it was monster meat) as a gift.

We were met with praise. Oh, the sweet taste of bribery.

The Brattor company, which our platoon served under, got to enjoy the fruits of our labor. Brattor was the house of the lord who ruled the land where my village was situated.

Unfortunately, the meat we managed to bring back wasn’t anywhere near enough to feed the entire company, so it probably all went to the big shots. At least the bones could be used to make soup for the rest of us. I had no idea how many people were participating in this operation, but I was sure it must’ve been a logistical nightmare to ensure that every soldier was well-fed.

I needed to pay a visit to the man with the unenviable job of managing that mess—Leto. To tell the truth, the entire reason I had planned this meat drop-off was so I could see him.

Oh, but let me just say one thing: This visit was absolutely not for the purposes of indulging in debauchery. For starters, I definitely preferred the fairer sex in my previous life.

Since I’d received gifts and favors from Leto, everyone else mistook us for lovers, but he hadn’t once ordered me to drop my pants or anything.

I couldn’t say why, but being the paramour to a person of power seemed to afford its own social status in this world, regardless of the gender of the people involved. This social hierarchy system had never been present in Golden Dawn.

Maybe it was part of the lore we players had never been told. Or maybe this was actually a parallel world that only strongly resembled the game. But since I wasn’t an interdimensional visitor to another world but someone who’d actually reincarnated into it, I guessed I had to accept that I should do as the Tiuccians did.

“Still, I think I’d rather pass on the anal,” I muttered.

“Did you say something just now, Kariya?”

“Oh, not at all. It was nothing.”

Considering the mystified look on Leto’s face, I didn’t think he’d caught what I had said. I waved it off with a bright grin.

Right now, I was engaging in a secret midnight rendezvous. Leto had just finished thanking me for my platoon’s generous gift of meat. That and he’d asked me not to do anything terribly dangerous, like a worried mother hen would say.

You’re too kind, Leto...

If someone had told me that he was related by blood to our liege lord, someone who was fully content to leave monsters rampaging through the land, I wouldn’t have believed it.

“By the way, thank you for dispatching the detachment of mages the other day,” I said. When I’d requested that mages create a section of wetlands for us, Leto had been the one to arrange it.

Ah, the way he blushed as he smiled.

“Sounds like they were of assistance. I never would have imagined the dry earth could turn into a marsh with all that water. Your idea was truly phenomenal,” Leto remarked.

“Was it really that unexpected?”

“Indeed. It gives me chills to think that the entirety of Croway Plains would simply turn into a marshland if it were flooded.”

“A handful of water mages won’t be able to pull that off with their power alone,” I mused. “If you intend on turning Croway into a marsh, we would need to divert water from the western river into the plains. Doing that wouldn’t grant us many advantages, though.”

Leto looked at me curiously, as if prompting me to explain. “In what situations would it be worth flooding the plains for, then?”

“I suppose it would be helpful in the event we suffered a crushing defeat and needed to buy time to withdraw,” I suggested. “Wetlands would slow their advance. We’d need our allies to divert the river as we retreated, but seeing as Raghion lies to the west of Croway, they’d be in the perfect position to assist.”

The Raghion Empire sat to the west of the current battlefield at Croway. Khrasiel occupied the territory north of the plains, while Tiuccia, our country, held the south.

As it was perfectly situated between all three countries, the Croway Plains served as an excellent natural divider. In the summer, it became a bug-infested wetland, and in the winter, monsters would venture out of the Black Forest to its east. None of the three countries had laid claim to Croway—probably because it’d be entirely too much work to maintain control there.

“You’re certainly knowledgeable, Kariya.”

“Not at all,” I replied. “In fact, I returned to camp tonight because I wanted to ask your opinion about something.” I pulled out the white mushroom I’d collected earlier in the afternoon.

I set it on the table, and Leto peered at it with great interest. He was clearly unfamiliar with it.

“It was growing in the Black Forest,” I explained.

That didn’t seem to ring any bells with him. “What’s so special about this mushroom? Is it edible?”

“While humans can probably eat them, this type of mushroom is actually quite attractive to monsters. We found some growing around the edges of the forest, even though winter’s around the corner.” I paused there, giving Leto time to absorb the information as I chose my next words carefully. “I believe they were planted to lure high-ranking monsters to the tree line. While those monsters usually nest deep in the woods, they aren’t able to resist these mushrooms. The dzepel that you partook of tonight was one such monster—ordinarily, dzepels would never approach the plains.”

Leto didn’t say anything. But his usual gentle smile was gone and had been replaced by a hardened line.

Under the fire of his steely gaze, I offered up my opinion, keeping my tone objectively indifferent. “I believe these mushrooms are a trap planted by the enemy forces. More precisely, a trap planted by an enemy transmigrator. Is it a valid battle tactic to mass pull mobs— Uh, I mean, to lure monsters en masse to attack the enemy? For example, baiting the monsters yourself and running them into an enemy encampment while using a teleportation technique to escape?”

“Ah, so causing monsters to rampage and attack? I’ve never heard of a tactic like that being employed, but I imagine it’d be well within the realm of possibility for a transmigrator to accomplish.”

“If that’s the case, then Khrasiel might be trying to do something like that. We must be careful,” I said.

Leto nodded. “I’ll apprise the higher-ups about the situation. If you happen to find any monsters wandering too close to camp, please continue as before and have your platoon dispose of them forthwith.”

“If we plan on enacting a full-scale operation to exterminate high-ranking monsters, wouldn’t it be better to enlist the help of adventurers?” I asked. “They’re specialists in that regard.”

“While the guild has volunteered their participation in the war, they won’t be dispatching any adventurers to the front lines here,” he told me. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to deal with the situation.”

“Understood.”

In this world that so closely resembled Golden Dawn, the most terrifying enemy to meet on the field was a transmigrator. Inheriting overwhelming power mighty enough to accomplish deicide, they were capable of totally annihilating enemy troops...just like they would monsters.

SSS-tier players could bring a country to ruin with ease.

The only people who could really put up a fight against them would be other transmigrators. Everyone else, meaning your average NPC-tier person, had only one role to fulfill—watching from the sidelines as the clash between titans played out and assisting when needed.

No matter how powerful their weapons or how mighty their skills were, even a transmigrator wouldn’t be able to continue fighting forever without support. Usually, that support would come from the adventurer’s guild with which a transmigrator was affiliated.

Apparently, the adventurer’s guild had originally been founded by transmigrators themselves in the far distant past.

Just as in Golden Dawn, the adventurer’s guild’s main headquarters was situated in the Raghion Empire. Each country had its own offices, of course, but as a basic rule, each of these offices would follow the policies outlined by the country in which they were situated and not necessarily those of Raghion. They were established to help their own regions, which meant they could, on an individual basis, choose to join the war.

Maybe I should have registered at Tiuccia’s guild as a transmigrator. It was a little too late at this point, though. Besides, I’d volunteered for the draft to avoid leaving any bad blood with my home village, but it wasn’t as though I had actually wanted to go to war. I was a craftsman anyway—I wasn’t that strong to begin with.

I sure do wish I could just take it easy and live the slow life, though.

To reveal myself or not to reveal myself? That was the question...

***

Having finished my report on the mushrooms, I was about to leave Leto’s war tent when he called out to me one last time. He remarked on how well the ribbon in my hair complemented my clothing.

Don’t worry, Leto. I make sure to wear your gift every day.

It was a protective charm that warded against unwanted advances on my chastity, after all. I’d take good care of it.

Leto didn’t order me to drop my pants this time either. Maybe he really was just a super nice guy after all.

Thank you, Leto. I’ll do my best to pay you back in my own way.

9. Battle at Croway Plains: The Fires of War

Dawn broke the following morning.

I’d been allowed to rest at the main camp overnight and was now brushing my teeth at the camp’s water supply station. Arowa came over to me to chat, and he clearly had something outrageous on his mind.

“Huh? You didn’t get the little lordling to treat you to breakfast, Kariya?” he asked.

“Whoo saef I wah staying tha naigh wi’im? (Who said I was staying the night with him?)” I mumbled around my toothbrush.

“Well, if you spent the night there, then—” But then he cut himself short, as if reflecting better on saying it. “Uh, well, you know. Nobles get tired of things real fast. Just think of it as a nice dream.”

Exasperated, I yanked the toothbrush out of my mouth so I could properly express my annoyance. “You’re the one who needs to wake up. It’s already morning, so put your ‘spending the night’ crap to rest and quit sleep-talking.”

My relationship with Leto is nothing like yours with your wife, so why the hell would I slog things out with him all night?! Besides, I already know you two go at it like rabbits because you want a dozen kids. It must be so nice to have such a loving wife.

I kicked Arowa in the gut for being so willfully misunderstanding. Then, making use of the ample, magically supplied water, I began to shave. My face ended up clean, leaving no trace of stubble, which led me to a realization: I was actually the type who had a hard time growing facial hair.

Despite the fact that I hadn’t had the opportunity to shave in a few days, my growth had been practically unnoticeable. Was this because I used to be a Japanese man?

Arowa stared at me. “Your face is such a scam,” he said, his voice deadpan.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “I was just thinking... Once the war’s over, why don’t you try serving Leto’s house? You’re raking up the commendations as a platoon leader, so I’m pretty sure they’d be happy to hire you. You might be asked to offer up your ass, though.”

A chill ran down my spine, and I told Arowa to shut up.

But the chill still remained. At least, it felt like it. I turned the feeling over in my mind, trying to unravel the uncertainty that had come over me. But try as I might, right now, I couldn’t understand the sensation.

It was sort of like a restless agitation...or something like that. Even though it was just a gut feeling, it was inexplicably unpleasant, and it felt as though the burgeoning discomfort was ballooning bigger and bigger...

I shook my head. “I don’t think I inherited a sixth sense or anything,” I muttered to myself.

My thoughts were interrupted by a friendly greeting. An older man in uniform had come to use the water and spoke to us jovially when he recognized us as part of the Gaelian platoon.

“Oh, if it isn’t the Gaelians! I heard you were the ones who brought that meat back yesterday. If you take down another dzepel, don’t leave us hanging, eh?” he said.

He must’ve surmised that we were Gaelian conscripts from our light gear and the bows we wore on our backs. The only other members of the army who might be able to use bows would be regular soldiers, which we clearly were not.

This man appeared to be in his forties. He was quite handsome with his short, dark hair and purple half-lidded eyes. His top was unbuttoned, although I had the impression that he was always slovenly with his appearance rather than simply not having buttoned it because he’d just woken up...but at least it was properly ironed. He must’ve had some men who took care of that for him.

But, most importantly, he’d partaken of last night’s meat. Since there hadn’t been enough to share with everyone, the fact that he’d gotten any at all meant that he was likely some big shot. I wouldn’t have guessed so otherwise—between his lackadaisical dress and clearly neglected stubble, it was hard to imagine he was someone important.

At any rate, I flashed him a cordial smile just in case. Flustered, he tossed me a pack of cigarettes and told me to keep them.

Were you really that happy to get some meat?!

If he wasn’t bothered by the prospect of eating monster meat, then I thought that maybe I should try bringing some back for him again. I didn’t smoke since I hated the smell clinging to my clothes, but I couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I could sell cigarettes for cash or even exchange them for favors. They were a convenient, versatile commodity within the army.

But though I was delighted by the sudden windfall, the nagging discomfort that still lurked in the corner of my mind simply wouldn’t disappear.

I heaved a deep sigh, and consternation resurfaced at the forefront of my mind. My dear friend and most trusted confidant—a title he’d decided on himself, without my consent—was still nearby, so I called out to him.

“Arowa, let’s get back to our position early. I honestly don’t want to go, but a bad feeling’s been eating at me for a while now. Not that I know why.”

He looked askance at me and nodded. “Your gut’s not always right, but when it is, we’re always in for one hell of a time,” he replied with a sigh. “All right. Do we have time to eat breakfast?”

“No, I think we should get out there immediately. If we can grab some food, let’s pack it up for later.”

The older man interrupted us, stopping our departure. “You think the enemy will attack from the east?” he asked.

I shook my head, though I couldn’t dispel my frown. “I don’t know, but we’ll be heading back to our position. The troops here haven’t entered open combat with the enemy yet, have they?”

“Not at this front, no. Some of the recon parties have had the odd skirmish, but nothing big,” he replied. As we turned to leave, he stopped us again. “By the way, take horses with you. If you need to send a message from the Black Forest, you’ll get here much faster on horseback.”

He pulled a slip of paper out from inside his coat and scribbled a quick note on it before handing it to me. “Show that to the guards on watch at the eastern fort, and they’ll do good by you,” he explained.

I guessed he really was someone important after all.

Now that I look again, I can see the decorations on his coat... Sorry, sir, for being inappropriately impolite when talking to you.

Apologies aside, I figured I could take this opportunity to ask him something, given that he was clearly a battle-hardened soldier.

“Sorry for asking this, but we are formally at war, right? So far, my platoon’s been driving enemy soldiers away with arrows, but that wouldn’t make them accuse us of attacking without a formal declaration of war or anything, would it?”

“Yeah, we’re long past that point,” he reassured me. “If you catch sight of any enemies, you’re free to kill them on the spot. Try to capture any enemy commanders alive if you can, but if you can’t, just do what you gotta do. Our forces are just about done getting into formation, so all that’s left is to wait for Raghion to arrive and finish getting battle-ready before we engage in full-blown hostilities.”

A strange tremor suddenly ran through the air.

“Whoa!”

Both the decorated man and I immediately looked up to the north. The eastern edge of the sky was aglow with the pink of the sunrise. There, several balls of flame shot up into the air, leaving trails of smoke behind them as they sailed from the north to the south.

Khrasiel had begun firing a volley of large-scale, A-tier assault-class spells on Tiuccia’s encampment.

Drawing a fine arc through the air, the fireballs were gliding directly toward us when their descent was cut short by a massive magic circle that appeared overhead. The barrier repelled the fireballs, which dispersed into nothing as they smashed into it.

Several more magic projectiles were dispatched in the same way until the magic circle that had blocked them finally shattered, leaving scattered motes of light hanging in the air for a few moments before vanishing.

A new magic circle was instantly constructed in the sky above the camp, and it blocked the ceaseless attacks that continued to rain down on us.

Disrupted magic strummed through the air in great waves, followed immediately by the echoes of massive explosions from far in the distance. Though dawn had just barely broken, the camp had been consumed by a cacophonous frenzy.

10. Battle at Croway Plains: Plans to Counterattack

“Hey, Gaelian! Is that what got your gut in knots?!”

“I don’t think so!”

The older soldier had been pointing to the northern sky as he shouted, but I gestured to the east. The sun had just barely begun its climb into the sky, but several columns of smoke were visibly rising from that direction.

They were clear signs that the traps I’d laid yesterday ahead of our return to camp had been triggered. The traps were set to go off if a monster of a certain size approached, and they would send up a smoke signal to warn us. Unfortunately, giving us that warning was all they could do.

I’d scattered several of the traps at the line between the Black Forest and the plains just in case, and they had worked perfectly as intended.

“There are monsters coming from the east,” I explained. “The enemy’s lured monsters out from deep within the woods. I don’t know how many of them there are, but there’s bound to be a lot. And at the very lowest, they’re likely to be D-ranks.”

“So we’re to fight on two fronts at once, eh?” The man grinned maniacally. “Great strategy on their part—just wish we weren’t the ones who have to deal with it!”

Privately, I couldn’t help but agree. What’s anyone supposed to do but laugh in the face of this disaster?

If we tried to withdraw now, our entire front line would crumble. We could still defend against the northern invasion as our mages were still holding their own against the enemy’s attacks. As long as the surprise attack using the monsters remained unsuccessful, any infantry or cavalry they sent from the front was unlikely to break our ranks.

But what if monsters smashed through our formation and wreaked havoc in our base camp? Even if we could handle the barrage of attacks at the front, it’d be impossible to deal with monsters inside the camp at the same time.

“Gaelian. Those monsters from the Black Forest—can you tell how long it’d take for them to get here?”

“They’ll arrive within the hour, but we have at least thirty minutes.”

While the man buttoned up his coat, I decided to explain my line of thinking so he wouldn’t need to ask. “The monsters that live in the forest aren’t as fast as horses. I believe we’ve dug trenches in the plains, but those won’t stop them—they’ll simply jump over. However, we’ve actually already flooded a portion of the plains and turned it into a marsh. These monsters despise wet conditions, so rather than trying to cross, they’re more likely to look for a way to go around.”

“So in other words, they won’t be attacking us from the direction of the wetlands?” he asked.

“Right. If they move north, there’s a chance they’ll end up attacking the enemy forces there. If they travel south instead... Well, they’ll probably converge on the eastern fort along the highway. We used the highway to demarcate the area we flooded,” I explained.

“So that means we won’t have to provide cover for half of our army fighting at the northern front line. That’s a relief.”

“Kariya!” Arowa was calling out to me. “We’re ready to move out. Where to?” He came running up to me with the rest of the platoon. They’d gotten ready to sortie.

Before I could respond, however, the decorated soldier answered instead. “I’m gonna need you boys to go out and help defend the eastern fort. I’ll be temporarily taking command of the Brattor company here.”

The old soldier called me by my name, then introduced himself. “The name’s Nadar Cautley. I expect great things from you and your people, as you Gaelians are renowned for your skill with the bow.”

As it turned out, this man was famous—so famous, in fact, that even I’d heard of him before despite my embarrassingly poor knowledge of the wider world.

Nadar Cautley.

He was the current head of a martial house that had produced generations of warriors. In Golden Dawn, he had been a major character who’d appeared in a certain quest line. I hadn’t actually played his quests myself, though. They’d been combat-oriented and had nothing to do with crafting, so I hadn’t been interested.

He—meaning both the man in front of me and the character in the game—was known as Nadar, Master of Blades.

His sword was just as famous. Scatterbloom, the symbol of his station as family head, was an S-rank weapon known for its ability to push NPCs past their ordinary B-tier skill cap.

But what was a commander of the royal army doing out here, fraternizing with nobodies like our lordship’s company?

Apparently, he’d just come all this way to get some meat.

Thanks to his completely coincidental presence on our side of the camp and his impromptu command of the Brattor company that was situated at the right flank of our army, we managed to prepare for the monster invasion without self-imploding.

***

A fort had been constructed along the highway that stretched between the eastern parts of the Croway Plains. It was a hastily erected checkpoint to perform detailed inspections of travelers and mercantile carts and the like, and it had originally been intended as a temporary provision. But most importantly, it was a defensive fortification that could not be instantly overrun. Now, that checkpoint would become a battlefield where we would face the monsters seeping out from the Black Forest.

We had thirty minutes to prepare for the onslaught, but it had taken my platoon fifteen minutes to arrive at the fort from the water supply station. Nadar had requisitioned mages and adventurers from our main forces to help us defend the fort, but frankly, they wouldn’t make it in time.

The only people who would be of any use were my own platoon, the guards who were normally posted at the fort, and Nadar’s own private soldiers. Altogether, we were just shy of a hundred and fifty men.

Sorry, old man.

Even though I knew he was a big shot, my knowledge of his character in Golden Dawn made it hard for me to address him formally as a superior.

I’ll at least try whenever he’s standing right in front of me, I guess.

Having taken temporary command of our liege lord Brattor’s company, that same big shot, the Master of Blades, was now busy slinging orders. I myself was told to take leadership of the personnel at the fort, so everything worked out.

I was on the up and coming with this promotion. Well, a temporary promotion for these emergency countermeasures, at any rate.

“Listen up,” I said to the crowd of soldiers now under my command. “We don’t have much time, so let me explain the situation. We’re about to be attacked by monsters from the Black Forest, thanks to Khrasiel’s tricks. But their number probably won’t be more than several hundred, and regardless of how many there are, they’ll mostly be C- or D-rank. Considering that the monsters that nest in the forest are mainly beasts and reptiles, that’s likely what we’ll be dealing with, so there won’t be any flying monsters. If each of us fells about five monsters apiece, we’ll have successfully defended the fort.”

“Do we have time to lay some magic traps in the area they’ll be coming from?” Arowa ventured.

“We don’t need to. Just shoot them down before they get anywhere near the fort,” I declared, stamping down Arowa’s uncertainty.

My excitement was running high, and I was entirely convinced we had this in the bag. A storehouse was situated at the side of the fort, containing a stockpile of military matériel. Among its supplies were all sorts of different restoratives, and we’d been given permission to use as many of them as we needed.

Next, I addressed my platoon. “I didn’t think I’d need to tell you guys this at our very first battle, but I went ahead and tinkered with our bows a bit to give us an edge. You’ve noticed that your bow’s grip has been reinforced with a different material, right? Well, pull down on it as hard as you can until you hear a click, then bring it back into its spot.”

“Huh, okay...”

“Lieutenant! Something popped out!”

“Hey, my bow’s a different color now!”

My men were looking at their weapons in wonderment. I nodded to them and activated the mechanism in my own bow as well.

This, too, was a man’s dream of dreams: item modding!

While we’d traveled to the Croway Plains, I’d taken our mass-produced E-rank weapons and modified them into magic bows, upgrading them to C-rank.

I bet NPC weaponsmiths who could only make low-quality, mass-produced weapons according to the script would be crazy jealous and drool at the idea of modding weapons. Using my unique craftsman skills, I had added an ability to these bows.

My men would’ve figured out that the bows were upgraded just from using them, but now, they were much stronger than they’d ever have imagined!

“When you nock an arrow, the bit that’s sticking out will also generate a magic arrow, which will merge with your physical arrow once you fire. That’ll extend your range to three hundred meters. The magic arrows will always find their mark, so just keep firing.”

Oh, but there was just one thing I needed to warn them about.

“Do know that these’ll use up a lot of MP, however.”

Arowa swallowed anxiously and nodded at my explanation. It was amazing how easily people here understood what I meant by MP and HP, even though they were terms from video games. I had the transmigrators of ages past to thank for that.

Just to clarify, “MP” stood for “magic points,” which gauged a person’s available magic reserves. Similarly, “HP” stood for “health points,” which gauged one’s physical endurance.

“If you run out of MP and can’t generate any more magic arrows, drink an MP potion to recover and start firing again. Keep firing until you can’t anymore,” I commanded.

“But if we’ve got potions, how will we know when we can’t keep going?” someone asked.

“Drinking too many potions at once will give you potion sickness...” I began, but then I thought better of it.

Ah, right. They wouldn’t know about that.

My gaze drifted into the distance for a moment. These men wouldn’t have had the opportunity to learn that. In this world, combat-related consumables commanded a fairly high price on the market. Most people would never have the chance to drink enough potions at once to get ill from them unless they were to craft the restoratives themselves.

Potion sickness was far worse than seasickness or even the hangover you’d get after a rough night of drinking. In the back of my mind, I silently apologized to them in advance for the hell they’d see.

“Once you know you can’t take another drink, swap with a guard,” I said. “All of the guards at the fort are here as support—there are two of them for each one of us.”

I quickly divided the guards into groups of three. One third of them would be supporting Nadar’s soldiers, while the remainder would be divided among the Gaelius platoon.

Then, I started to tell the plan to one of Nadar’s men. “The Gaelian soldiers, armed with the modified magic bows, will fire at approaching monsters that are three hundred to fifty meters away. The guards will use their own bows to finish off any monsters that manage to make it through the volley and past the fifty-meter point, all the way up to the twenty-meter point. Swap places with anyone who can’t fire off any more magic arrows. If any monsters get past even the guards’ arrows, could Nadar’s...er, Sir Nadar’s men take care of them?”

“Certainly. We’ll head outside the fort and spread out immediately,” he said.

Nadar’s man was impressive, responding with due attentiveness and taking initiative in following orders. I never would have guessed he answered to such an unprofessional geezer.

He was a young man with the same dark complexion as mine, although his hair and eye color were different. A youth with white hair and red eyes—he practically dripped with that high fantasy vibe. This world truly had been modeled after Golden Dawn.

And in the world of Golden Dawn, an invasion of C-rank monsters could be dealt with by literally pouring dozens of supplies into your battle plan. With my modified bow in hand, I grinned as I climbed the fortress keep.

We’re invincible.

11. Battle at Croway Plains: Doping Is Only Cheating If You Get Caught

Colored flags were arranged in regular intervals along the highway that cut through the plains. These markers indicated how far away a target was. They also allowed us to calculate the speed at which our enemies were approaching.

Supposing the monsters arrived at the flag set at the two-kilometer mark and then took thirty seconds to arrive at the next flag a hundred meters down, how long would it take for them to reach the fort? The answer was about ten minutes.

Eight minutes remained until they would enter shooting distance—the three-hundred-meter range. Thankfully, these calculations were easy enough to make, seeing as the units of measurement here were the same as in Japan.

Thank you, world based on a Japanese video game! But unlike in video games, people couldn’t just respawn if they fell and weren’t resuscitated. At least, I assumed so—I wasn’t about to test it myself.

“Spread out appropriately and take your positions!” I shouted.

Though the fort itself had been meant to be a temporary bulwark, a hoarding had been built along its battlements. From our relatively high vantage point, we could rain magic and arrows down on our enemies from a distance while remaining hidden and safe.

The main attack force in this encounter would be the Gaelius platoon with our magic bows. As long as the monsters remained within our shooting range, the garrison was ready to support us.

They were responsible for popping open bottles of recovery potions and handing them out, as well as replacing the arrows in our quivers. Anything they could do, they were responsible for—except shooting arrows themselves.

The reason for that was simply that they were expected to take over volleying arrows once the Gaelius archers had fired as many arrows as they could without rest. My men would be drinking restorative draughts until they’d made themselves ill and were exhausted to the point of immobility.

This plan I’d thought up was simple but sure to be effective. However, it was only suitable for short periods of combat and would only last as long as our resources could sustain.

From beside me, Arowa sighed. “It’s brutal to do this without mages.” He was peering through a telescope to monitor the monsters’ approach. “They just passed the seven-hundred-meter mark. Magic attacks would’ve been able to hit ’em by now,” he groused.

“There’s no point in bellyaching about resources we don’t have,” I responded. Then, I raised my voice. “Two minutes remaining!”

The tension among the soldiers at their posts palpably grew with my announcement. But despite the encroaching monsters from the plains, not a single soldier abandoned their duty. Their bolstered courage was due to magic curios we’d found in the stockpiled matériel. Finding enhancements that improved our attributes, we’d made use of those as well—they were free, after all. The military storehouse had been a veritable treasure trove.

Oh, right. Now that the final minutes were upon us, I supposed it was important to deliver a rousing speech before battle.

I thought back to the countless American movies I’d watched in my old life and climbed up to the highest part of the fort. Looking down at the waiting soldiers, I began to speak.

“Our prey is nearly upon us! We have no time, so listen up, you maggots!”

“Yes, sir!” my platoon shouted in unison.

Oops. The garrisoned soldiers are cringing. Please don’t mind us! I’m just getting my troops into the groove.

“Think back. Have I ever led us into a field of death where you ended up pissing and crying for salvation?!”

“No, sir!”

“Has any monster we’ve ever encountered given us cause to fear for our lives?!”

“No, sir!”

“Exactly! And that’s because we are the reapers of the battlefield! Now nock your arrows! Thirty seconds remain until we show those monsters hell!”

“Yes, sir!”

They drew back on their bowstrings, and just beneath their readied arrows, shafts of light appeared.

“Destroy them all!”

There were precious few arrows fired—fewer than thirty, given the size of my platoon—but each arrow had devastating firepower. A single strike had the power to completely obliterate its target. And now, these arrows were speeding toward the horizon all at once.

These piercing arrows of light were drawn and fired one after another, raining down on the enemy like a torrential storm. Our battle had begun on the eastern front.

***

“How are things looking, Kariya?”

Hearing my name, I turned around to face my visitor as I finished pouring the last drop of restorative from an MP potion into my mouth. Standing behind me was none other than the Master of Blades. His previous slovenly look was gone and had been replaced by the sharp dress of a commander.

Behind him and inside the fort was a large group of soldiers. Given the coat of arms on their flag, they seemed to be men taken from our lordship Brattor’s company.

“The waves of monsters have finally started subsiding, have they?” I asked. “Oh, Nadar— Er, Sir. Could you have any soldiers skilled in archery swap in? Anyone else can help with replenishing our potion stocks and cleaning up the ground below, if that’s all right.”

The narrow ramparts were littered with empty bottles that’d been tossed aside once they’d been used and the prone bodies of soldiers too ill to move. One could aptly describe this scene as a field of death.

The garrison that had been assisting Nadar’s private unit at the foot of the fortress had already withdrawn inside and was here to support the archers. Aside from me, the Gaelius platoon had been completely wiped out.

The magic bows were now in the hands of the third wave of archers, and even they were beginning to show signs of exhaustion.

Nadar had returned at just the right time.

He looked at the bottles scattered about and snorted. “You lot have used so many of our supplies that the guys in the service corps won’t just be screaming, they’ll be crying when they find out.”

“But we did keep the monsters from reaching the fort,” I countered. “Give us some credit here. The final wall managed to keep them out, and we could pull through thanks to the private soldiers you left here.”

Far too many enemies had been coming our way. The high-level monsters had needed several hits to take down as well. While some monsters had managed to slip past our onslaught of arrows, Nadar’s men had somehow managed to keep those at bay just outside the fort.

At Nadar’s command, the fallen soldiers were pulled onto stretchers and carried to the rear. The empty bottles that had been strewn about the ground were cleared away, and more potions were brought in. The number of arrows being fired had increased as well—a new wave of archers must’ve taken their positions.

As every whistle of fletching sliced through the air, the monsters’ howls grew louder.

I threw back an MP potion alongside an HP potion and nocked another arrow. A moment later, a magically imbued arrow of light pierced through a monster in the distance.

Nadar watched me. “Still got some fight left in you, eh, Kariya?”

“Well, I’ve been giving orders, so it’s not like I was firing arrows this entire time. But I can feel the potion sickness coming on. If there’s anyone who can take over command here, I’d like to swap out,” I admitted.

“We have archers. Hand over your bow and arrows. We can’t have anyone taking over command for you, though. That’d only invite chaos, and I’d prefer to avoid that.”

I nodded in understanding and gave my magic bow to a soldier who approached me. “Let me sit down for a minute, then,” I said.

Without waiting for his acknowledgment or permission, I dropped down on the spot, resting my back against an embrasure in the wall. I’d been firing magic arrows—or rather, chugging potions—this whole time. I was feeling sick from the sheer amount I’d imbibed.

Nadar stood beside me with his arms crossed. He was watching the attacking monsters.

For a brief moment, neither of us said anything.

I finally spoke up. “Aren’t you going to deploy the troops you brought with you?”

“Not if I can help it. We’d best not let this victory go to Brattor,” Nadar said. He seemed to think the battle had already been won. I privately agreed, but I decided not to discuss the victory so much as the victor.

“I’m part of the Brattor company, remember? I think this victory should go to his lordship.”

“If anyone asks, I’ll say that I pulled you and your men from the company last night for this mission.” Then, he glanced at me. “You haven’t got any family, do you?”

“I don’t. No wife, no kids, no parents.”

“Great, we don’t have any problems, then. Let’s leave it at that.”

He seemed to be giving me a warning: Leave it at that, or you’re going to have a hard time.

Dazed from the fatigue setting in, I tried to unravel Nadar’s unspoken warning—it had almost sounded like a threat. For some reason I had yet to know, maybe he was trying to help me. Even though he was essentially forcing me to join his ranks, he was worried for my family.

But...that didn’t seem right.

If he were trying to poach me from Brattor’s company, it’d make more sense for him to strong-arm me into joining by leveraging my family instead. Maybe, just maybe, something about the conscripts he had met this morning at the water supply had tugged at his heartstrings.

I mean, he’d even given me cigarettes. Well, that had probably just been on a whim, or at least it’d felt that way.

This, however, was different. He wasn’t just pushing me on a whim. Maybe he really was trying to help.

I looked up at Nadar. Noticing my gaze, he turned his purple eyes to look down at me as I sat there. Nadar, Master of Blades—a man who bore a striking resemblance to an NPC design illustration that had been posted on Golden Dawn’s official website.

Judging from the look on his face, he seemed to want to say something. But just as he opened his mouth—

“A dragon!”

The shouts of alarm erupting from the soldiers were nearly indistinguishable from screams.

12. Battle at Croway Plains: Things Come to Light

I looked out at the horizon over the plains from the hoarding atop the ramparts. Compared to the monsters that’d been closing in on the fort, this beast was a behemoth. Its orange scales glittered vividly, reflecting the morning light.

“A fire dragon,” Nadar muttered after a brief moment of study.

A dragon’s strength could be determined by its coloring. The darker it was, the more powerful it was, so the dragon heading toward us was of the weakest variety. Despite that, it was still a B-rank monster, and even elite NPC soldiers would have a tough time going toe-to-toe with it.

“Was its nest in the Black Forest?” Nadar mused aloud.

“Not a chance,” I said. “A fire dragon’s natural habitat is somewhere with volcanic activity.”

The dragon trampled over the monster corpses that littered the ground without any due consideration for them, much less any attempt to go around them. It was charging right at the fort. No intelligent monster would realistically behave this way, so its actions made it easy to conclude that it was acting under some sort of order.

“It looks like that fire dragon is being controlled by our enemies,” I added. “I think the horde of monsters that attacked us might’ve been driven out of the forest by the dragon. If that’s the case, then I doubt there’ll be any more monsters trailing behind it. Once we defeat the dragon, we can consider this operation a success.”

At this point, I probably wasn’t thinking straight because of the potion sickness. After all, the Master of Blades was standing directly beside me. Nadar and his men should’ve had ample firepower to deal with the fire dragon, even if the fight might’ve gotten a little dicey.

But that simply hadn’t occurred to me as I had decided to kill the dragon myself.

“So, that being said, I’ll wrap this mission up in a second,” I plainly announced.

I reached out with my left hand in the direction of the charging dragon. Accessing my Pocket Dimension, I withdrew the Sevenstrike Bow, an A-rank weapon I had crafted.

Interestingly, whenever I pulled something out of my personal interdimensional storage, it always ended up appearing in midair, hovering about a centimeter away from my outstretched palm.

While that granted me the convenience of always having things on hand for immediate use, it also meant that I’d never be able to spawn something at a distance. In that regard, my ability seemed to follow the rules set by the game.

Grasping the bow with my left hand, I brought it to the ready as I raised my right hand skyward.

A gleaming white arrow, a B-rank projectile, materialized in my palm. It had been crafted with a silver arrowhead, which had high magical conductivity. Unfortunately, since I had such poor affinity with metals, there were few ores I could work to their greatest potential—hence its middling rank.

I nocked the arrow.

Now, the Sevenstrike Bow would reveal its true power. Shafts of blazing white light appeared—three magic arrows above the nocked arrow and three below.

The upgraded magic bows I’d modified for my men could only manifest one arrow at a time, but true to its name, the Sevenstrike Bow could loose seven arrows at once.

These magic arrows were also several tiers more powerful than a normal arrow, but that wasn’t their only unique property. I could also change their elemental attribute. The six magic arrows trembled, shining with a tinge of blue that revealed their ice properties.

I drew the bowstring taut and then released my fingers.

The silver arrow shot toward the fire dragon. The blue bolts of light trailing behind it did not dissipate—instead, they converged with the arrow to form one. I followed that up by firing two more arrows in quick succession.

Three blue arrows pierced the dragon’s hide. Three explosions reverberated through the air, cutting short the dragon’s anguished roars.

Peering through the hoarding’s embrasure, I could see the dragon lying prone on the highway, half encased in ice, as it finally perished.

I’d definitely gone overboard. But that was the might of my precious Sevenstrike Bow. I had needed this much firepower for my own sake.

“I’m out of MP, and I don’t want to see another potion for the rest of my life. Sorry, Nadar...uh, Sir. I’ve accomplished my mission, so can I call it a day here?” I asked. “It looks like the troops are just about done mopping up the stragglers anyway.”

Nadar didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he looked at me for a moment and then asked somberly, “You’re a transmigrator, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” I replied without a second of hesitation. “I am.”

He’d figured it out after all.

I hadn’t told anyone about it outside of my immediate family, but it wasn’t as though I was trying to keep it a secret or anything, so I answered him in full honesty. It hadn’t been a secret—it was just that no one had ever asked me if I was a transmigrator or not. Not even Arowa, who’d been a good friend since we were kids, had asked.

I hadn’t wanted to be treated like a gofer who could do anything, given my extensive knowledge of the world, so I had decided not to publicize my status and had kept it to myself.

Besides, after my fiancée had gone back on our engagement, most of the villagers had distanced themselves from me. I wasn’t a nice enough person to do favors for people who had treated me like dirt. I had still given vegetables to people who’d stuck with me, though, like Arowa.

The handsome NPC who’d been gazing at me with an inscrutable expression (to put it nicely—honestly, he looked as though someone had thrown a pie in his face) since my frank admission finally heaved a deep sigh.

“C’mon now... Wait, hold on. I have things I need to deal with first.” Turning from me, Nadar called out to his men. “Fiath! Cease ranged combat and finish off the remaining monsters directly!”

“As you command!” replied the young man with dark skin and white hair. His voice was bright and chipper.

Following that, Nadar ordered the Brattor soldiers to harvest any usable yield from the defeated monsters.

Yep, that’s important. Best to pick up any materials or supplies when possible. After all, a certain someone’s been burning through our stockpile like no tomorrow.

The remainder of the corpses were probably best burned or buried. Leaving them strewn about was bound to produce a plague.

“Now that that’s done, could you let me take a look at your bow?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said, face reddening from embarrassment as I handed it to Nadar. “But don’t scrutinize it too hard, all right? I made it myself, so...”

I’d done my best to make it look good, but I hadn’t been able to procure particularly good materials, so it didn’t have any elaborate trimmings. It was a simple but functional piece of work.

“So it seems. A Sevenstrike Bow, an A-rank weapon. According to transmigrators, the highest rank of weapon an NPC can produce is B-rank, or so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Given that you’ve made this, you’re definitely a transmigrator,” he said. “Let me ask you—and I realize it’s pointless to do so, seeing as I already know the answer—but have you reported that you’re a transmigrator?”

“Uh, was I supposed to...?” I could only stare at him in confusion.

Nadar heaved another deep, exasperated sigh.

13. Visitors from the Adventurer’s Guild

In my previous life, I’d played an MMORPG called Golden Dawn.

If you asked me, its systems were pretty open and free-form. There wasn’t really any epic, overarching story to follow or anything. Players just enjoyed the eponymous world of Golden Dawn in whatever ways they liked.

Some players specialized in physical combat, while others honed their skills in magic. Others still enjoyed crafting and producing items.

I had been one such player in that last camp.

While I doubted the fact that I had come from a farming family had affected my playstyle, I hadn’t specialized in crafting weapons or armor or anything. I had just enjoyed taking my time in the game, making things and playing at my own speed.

Items and crafting got really deep in Golden Dawn, all right?

If you ran out of MP, that’d be the end of a spell-casting spree, but some items could restore it.

The efficacy of a weapon’s attack depended on its wielder’s talent and the performance of the weapon itself, but a person’s baseline tier could be further improved with the use of tier-boosting items.

For example, suppose a person’s own appraisal was S-tier. If they used boosters, they could wield SSS-rank weapons and even go head-to-head with SSS-tier players.

Well, theoretically, anyway. While a person’s strength might’ve become comparable to that of an elite player, the difference in their experience would mean instant death for them anyway.

Unfortunately, in a world where all sorts of things were in ample supply through official channels and were sold cheaply to boot, being an item crafter was, to be honest, redundant. Some people even called them land mine jobs—because you didn’t know how bad it was until you set foot in it.

But who cares about that? Crafting jobs were great. You could be completely self-sufficient as a crafter. Make everything yourself, and make use of everything yourself.

Screw the economy! Anyone would end up thinking that if they had to move huge numbers day in and day out, like I had. After all, I’d handled financing as a banker in my previous life.

Anyway, players in Golden Dawn could be broadly classified into three different categories: Fighter (Physical/Magical), Crafter (Metal/Non-metal), and Healer.

Only players using jobs related to theurgy could specialize in healing. Fighters and crafters could learn from both disciplines to a certain point, but eventually, they had to choose one or the other for their main class. And at that point, their proficiency in the other line would be capped at B-tier.

Which was also the maximum tier NPCs could reach. Within the game, B was considered an average, middling tier.

Because I’d chosen to go into crafting as my main class in my previous life, both my physical and magical proficiencies were B-tier. But in terms of crafting, my ability to create weapons and armor was A-tier. I’d specialized in item production, so that was S-tier.

So, yup. To put it bluntly...I was a third-rate player.

Golden Dawn’s systems had SSS as the top tier, and SS was just below that. But don’t get me wrong—being compared to those top-tier players sucked for me too. Everyone’s got their own preferred playstyle anyway.

So stop being so obviously disappointed in me, you dispatch from the adventurer’s guild!

***

In this new world, some people were born with memories from their previous lives.

If a Golden Dawn player somehow met an untimely end, whether from an accident or otherwise, they could be reborn into this world with their memories intact. Or so it seemed, anyway.

These reincarnated players, collectively known as “transmigrators,” inherited the abilities and attributes of the characters they’d played.

I’d closed the last chapter of my previous life with the light novel cliché of truck-induced reincarnation, but as I grew older in my new life, I’d come to realize there were others who shared my situation.

And it was then that I’d decided I needed to set out and wander the lands to learn about this world. Transmigrators who embarked on a journey inevitably ended up knocking on the door of an adventurer’s guild. That was an invariable fate dictated by the game.

In fact, the game had begun with a tutorial that involved registering at the adventurer’s guild. Those who traced the footsteps of their old in-game life would then learn about the new world in which they’d been reincarnated.

The adventurer’s guild was a mutual aid organization that’d been established by prior transmigrators. As a basic rule, it was designed for transmigrators to assist others who’d found themselves reincarnated into this world.

But, just as in the game of Golden Dawn, they were able to participate in war efforts, as well as hunt monsters. Since there weren’t a lot of transmigrators to go around in the first place, the guild employed NPCs to staff it and keep it running as an organization. And now, one of these NPCs was sighing at me.

I guess they weren’t especially impressed by the fact that I’d enjoyed a crafting class in my old life.

“Kariya,” the man from the guild began tersely. “We’re well aware that there are no branches of the guild in the vicinity of the Gaelius Mountains. But as a citizen of Tiuccia, you are obliged to declare your status as a transmigrator by adulthood; these are the rules. Regardless of how remote your village must’ve been, every few years, a scout would have made rounds throughout the country to confirm the existence of any potential transmigrators. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I really just hadn’t noticed. I mean, my village was so deep in the sticks, it was practically made of them. I hadn’t had an opportunity to read either...” I weakly explained.

Reporting in? Who died and made that law? Don’t know, don’t care.

I’d already been ostracized by my village when I had come of age. But that’d been fine; I had just withdrawn to my house deep in the mountains and whiled away my time, crafting everything and anything.

Anyway, I had successfully defended the fort from the monsters in the wee hours of the morning, but night had already long since fallen when two visitors came to see me. They claimed to be staff members from the adventurer’s guild.

Tiuccia had somehow managed to defend itself from the attack Khrasiel had launched at dawn. Combat in this world almost always ended before the sun set. If a winner hadn’t been determined by then, the hostilities would continue the next morning. Now that the day’s battle had come to a close and they’d had time on their hands, they must’ve finally decided to come question me.

They’d been called here by the Master of Blades, Nadar Cautley.

After the attack on the eastern fort had died down, he had hurried back to the main forces. Since Nadar had been a pretty good guy, I’d had every intention of treating the guild members he’d dispatched with the utmost cordiality and respect I could muster.

But for all their whinging about me failing to follow protocol, wasn’t it likewise against “the rules” to perform appraisals on someone they’d just met?

One of the guild dispatches had chosen to keep his cloak on and had been trying to appraise me since the moment they’d arrived. An Appraisal Orb—which functioned exactly as written on the tin—was undoubtedly hiding beneath his attire. I nullified every attempt he made to analyze me.

If someone was aware of an attempt to use an investigative or disruptive-type ability on them, then, provided the difference in tiers between the caster and the target was large enough, these attempts could easily be canceled. Appraisals were one such ability, which meant it could be nullified.

Looks like he’s absolutely awful at appraisals.

I guessed that was no surprise, though. The multi-purpose Appraisal Orb he had under his cloak was only a C-rank artifact. It would never work on an S-tier person like me.

Try as he might, he won’t be appraising me. Not now, not ever.

I considered myself a fairly mild-mannered person, but now that I was annoyed, I surreptitiously appraised the two guild members myself. Appraisal was an essential ability for crafters, so I possessed it myself.

To my surprise, upon using it, I discovered that both of the guild members had given me false names when they’d introduced themselves. I decided to investigate further, activating my skills discreetly to avoid being noticed.

These two are such idiots.

If they’d been up-front with their real names and had politely asked to appraise me, I might’ve responded cordially. Maybe. I mean, I’d been a Japanese man in my previous life. We’re pretty good about honoring requests so long as they’re asked properly and through the right channels.

As for using my abilities on the down-low, well... While it was important to be open about displaying ability activations in a battle where victory or defeat was on the line, it didn’t matter so much for crafters.

Huh?

My search for further details revealed something shocking: For whatever reason, both of them were designated as being affiliated with Khrasiel.

What the hell?

14. The Value of a Transmigrator

“Time to say...good night!”

I retrieved two talismans from my interdimensional storage, materializing them in the palm of my hand.

My guests were startled, but only for a moment. I swiftly slapped the talismans on their foreheads, which forced them to freeze unnaturally. The two self-proclaimed guild members had fallen asleep, standing up, in the middle of the tent we’d borrowed for the express purpose of this meeting.

The talismans (imbued with a sleep effect) were, of course, of my own making.

Now that I thought about it, my proficiency tier and abilities were the only things I had retained after being reincarnated into this world. I’d still had access to my Pocket Dimension, but it’d been empty.

I hadn’t been wearing my equipment either, but I guess that made sense—I’d been born a baby, after all. My current appearance was nothing like my old character’s visuals either.

Now, my once-empty Pocket Dimension was filled to the brim with all sorts of supplies I’d crafted myself. Oh, but I didn’t have much money either. Since bartering was the norm in the Gaelius Mountains, actual currency itself had been a rarity.

At any rate, I now had a problem on my hands.

What was I going to do with these two? Could I really just write them off as spies from Khrasiel? Or were they just two terribly disrespectful people from a neighboring country?

I should probably go check with Nadar. But even if I went to see him, would I actually be granted a chance to talk to him again? I was just a lowly peasant. I’d probably get turned away at the door.

As I weighed my options in front of the sleeping scouts, the entrance to the tent was pushed open.

“Have you finished your discussions, Kariya?” Leto peeked into the tent and was summarily startled by the scene. “What’s going on?”

I explained what I’d observed, and he nodded in understanding.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “It’s quite odd that people from Khrasiel would be here posing as guild members. I’ll have this reported to Sir Nadar. The artifact we use to contact him is with my uncle, so I’ll have someone reach out to him at once. Could you keep an eye on these two?”

“I’ll do so. Thank you for the help.”

Stepping out from the tent for a moment, Leto gave quick orders to a soldier before returning to the tent. Standing next to me, he examined the talismans carefully. Curiosity was written all over his face.

“I’ve never once seen artifacts like these before. They’ve the same effect as the magic spell Sleep, don’t they?” He paused, glancing at me. “Did you make these too?”

“Yes, I did. These talismans are single-use consumables.”

“Consumables, huh? Speaking of single-use, we retrieved the bows that had been issued to your platoon, but every last one of them was broken. Do you happen to know why?”

A cold sweat ran down my back. Leto was, after all, in charge of managing military supplies. I didn’t respond right away—I took a moment to rack my brains for a decent way of explaining the damage.

In the end, I decided to be up-front about what had happened. “I made some extreme modifications to them, so they became significantly less durable,” I explained. “I thought they’d last half a day, but it turned out that they broke after just one use. I’m sorry.”

“Ah, so that’d been your doing as well.”

I had expected him to be angry, but he just smiled awkwardly and looked a bit perturbed.

“It’s fine,” he followed up. “Had you not been able to stop the monsters, then we would have suffered heavy losses. Is it possible to modify other bows in the same manner? If you teach the other craftsmen in our army the method you used to upgrade those bows, would they be able to make similar ones?”

“Leto?” I said his name hesitantly.

He continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “I hadn’t realized you were a transmigrator. I did think there was something strange about you that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but still... I’m really quite surprised there was a transmigrator in the Brattor lands.”

He reached a hand out and touched the white ribbon in my hair. His fingers stroked it as though he were ascertaining the tactile sensation of the fabric on his fingertips, but his gaze remained fixed on my face the entire time.

For some reason, the smile that came to his lips triggered an alarm in my mind. It warned me of a shark in the water.

Shit. I was in trouble—deep, sticky trouble.

He looked at me like a hunter looked at its prey. I didn’t get the sense that my chastity was at risk, though that feeling hadn’t vanished entirely either. Instead, I felt that I, myself, was in danger.

Until this point, I had been of no value to him. But now, he was after the entirety of my being.

Sure, I had above-average skills for a commoner since I was able to read, write, and do some basic math. Essentially, I was someone who’d be handy to have around, but unlikely to cause any consternation if I were not. That was all I’d been to him.

But now, the look on Leto’s face was a familiar one.

He had the same kind of predatory smile my boss had worn, despite that man’s self-effacing behavior, when he’d been dealing with a client who had come in asking for an absurdly high-value loan. It was the smile of someone who felt overwhelming superiority toward a person of lower social status, knowing they held that person’s fate in their hands.

“My uncle was quite delighted to hear that a transmigrator was found to be from our lands. He said he’d take you in as a vassal immediately. What did you specialize in again? Was it combat? Or crafting? Well, it’s fine either way. From now on, we’ll ensure that you’ll want for nothing. I’ll even put in a good word for you.”

“Wait!” I forcibly interrupted him as he prattled on about my future outlook. “I’m sorry, Leto. To tell the truth, both my platoon and I were transferred to Nadar’s command late last night. I believe it would be prudent for his lordship to consult with Nadar about today’s events.”

He didn’t say anything in response.

A messenger entered the tent to deliver his report, and it was he who broke the silence at last.

“Pardon me, sir. We’ve contacted Sir Nadar, and he’s issued his orders. He’ll be coming here himself.”

15. Nadar Cautley

A soldier led me to an empty tent. After telling me to wait there for a while, he disappeared. This seemed to be a war tent used for meetings. At the center of the tent stood a plain table with nothing on it, and there were a number of chairs lined up around it.

Having been told to wait, I supposed that meant I could sit in one of the chairs. Pulling out the one at the far end of the table with a quiet huff, I dropped myself into it unceremoniously. Resisting the urge to drop prone on the desk, I heaved a deep sigh.

It’d been a long day, but it still wasn’t over. I’ll probably be interrogated now... With that thought weighing heavily on my mind, I was sitting in the chair, listless and exhausted, when Nadar entered the tent.

“Oh, go ahead and stay in your seat,” he said, stopping me as I made to stand up. He walked over to the corner of the room, where a pitcher of water and wooden cups had been placed. Pouring some into one of the cups, he drank it in a single gulp. He must’ve been exhausted as well.

Filling the cup once more, he turned to look at me. “You want some?” he asked.

“Sure,” I replied.

He nodded and filled another cup. Thanking him as he passed the water to me, I also drank it all in a single gulp.

The slight beginnings of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Bringing the water pitcher to the table, he sat in the seat directly across my own.

“You really are a transmigrator,” he remarked.

“So I’ve said, yes. What makes you bring that up now?”

“I was just thinking that the odd feeling I had that something was out of place when we first met had been right on the money. You’d been living in the Gaelius Mountains your entire life, right?”

I nodded in agreement.

Nadar nodded back with a broad smile. “That probably explains some things. You see, commoners ordinarily wouldn’t take a seat when told to wait. They’d remain standing and wait in a corner. If they notice a noble in their vicinity, they drop to their knees and grovel until told otherwise. Even if offered water, it would be scandalous to accept,” he explained, the smile never leaving his mouth. “But I’m used to my men behaving relatively casually around me, so I don’t mind. At any rate, I’ve heard these class distinctions are pretty incomprehensible to transmigrators. Which makes sense, considering you apparently haven’t got nobles or commoners in your old world.”

I stared at him, wide-eyed. Seeing my shock, he only smiled awkwardly as he continued speaking.

“Not only that, but most transmigrators seem to be familiar with the name of ‘Nadar Cautley.’ In fact, my master-at-arms was a transmigrator himself. I learned a lot from him—swordplay, the connection between this world and the game, and, of course, the existence of ‘Nadar, the Master of Blades’...” He trailed off there for a moment.

“I want to be an ally to transmigrators,” he continued. “In most cases, you never forget a kind turn. You love this world, and you’ll do everything in your power to do what’s best for it. So, as long as you don’t turn against me, I want to be your ally as ‘Nadar, Master of Blades,’ just like in the game.

“So, that being the case, how about we get to the real meat of the conversation now?” Nadar remarked.

I nodded silently in acceptance.

“Kariya, you were an adult when you died, right?”

For some reason, the water had turned into liquor. Nadar had pulled out a bottle of alcohol from somewhere and was now pouring it into my cup as he spoke to me.

“You understand why I’m asking that, right?”

When I nodded, he grinned meaningfully.

“Well, you know. Living up in the mountains, you seemed a bit naive about our customs, but at least you understand certain etiquette,” Nadar said. “A lot of transmigrators are some real brazen kids. According to my old master-at-arms, the game’s target market had been young adults, so that was no surprise. Transmigrators are people who died young in your world, and they’re usually found here before adulthood. The guild would try to drill this world’s customs into them, but the higher a transmigrator’s tier was in your old world, the worse their habits were here.”

“Ah,” I began, feeling not at all surprised. “I’m pretty sure I understand. Sorry.”

Guess I’ll die of the incurable disease of cringy teenage fantasy too. And, although Nadar had been discussing other transmigrators, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed on their behalf—probably because I was fully aware that I was already displaying symptoms of this unfortunate illness.

This conversation with Nadar, someone who was well-versed in my current situation, was both enjoyable and fascinating. But at the same time, it was quite somber.

His late master-at-arms had been an SS-tier one-handed swordmaster. Transmigrators who were SS-tier or above tended to find the beginner-friendly central starter areas to be rather lacking, so they often headed to the far-off edgelands, never to return. But Nadar’s master-at-arms had remained here to teach Nadar and his other disciples the art of swordplay.

I’d kinda had a vague inkling before, but the flow of time was out of sync between my Japan and this world that so closely resembled Golden Dawn. The game had launched three years before I’d died. But according to the history books here, transmigrators had started appearing in this world approximately nine hundred years ago. Maybe that meant three hundred years in this world was equivalent to a single year in Japan.

Not that it really mattered to me, since I’d already gone through the whole thing with the truck. I probably wouldn’t set foot on Japanese soil ever again.

With that in mind, I had no choice but to live out my new life in this world. Luckily, I’d inherited the proficiencies and abilities from my character in the game. I might as well make the best of it and enjoy my new life to the fullest—just as I had when I’d played Golden Dawn.

Nadar continued. “My master-at-arms really taught me a lot. I was real slow on the uptake, but his patient training was what let me eventually master using Scatterbloom.” He smiled ruefully as he reminisced. “His dying wish was that I’d help other transmigrators like him.”

He smiled softly at me, purple eyes crinkling with warmth.

“Listen, Kariya. I have my own standing in this world—that of ‘Nadar Cautley,’ a real man here, not of the game of your old world. I promise I’ll do what I can to help you and other transmigrators, at least as far as my standing allows.”

Nadar Cautley—a man who’d once been an NPC. Now, he was a fellow human being, not an AI character following a script.

Was he someone I could trust, just as his namesake in the game had been? Wait, I’d never played his quests. Being a crafter, I just hadn’t jived with combat-oriented quests.

“Now then, let’s get down to more important things,” Nadar began, as he refilled his cup with alcohol. “Before I begin, let me give you a warning: Don’t let anyone know anything about you. Not your abilities, not the kind of person you’d been in your previous life, nothing.”

“I was just a boring crafter in my old life,” I said. “I don’t have any abilities of note or anything.”

“This isn’t your game of Golden Dawn,” he stressed. “The majority of people in this world—those you call NPCs—can only reach B-tier at best. Equipment and enhancements might boost a person’s rank by one tier apiece, but that means they’d only reach S-tier at the absolute maximum. But you transmigrators can easily surpass those limits.”

Nadar paused for a moment. “Just how badly do you think people, not to mention entire nations, want you transmigrators? Your abilities may have been unremarkable in the game, but in this world, they are much more than that. To start, there are very few transmigrators, so people will try every trick in the book to obtain you. They’ll threaten you, blackmail you, bribe you, or even promise to fulfill your every desire. The adventurer’s guild was established to prevent transmigrators from being exploited,”—and Nadar laughed bitterly at that—“but don’t believe those lies.”

“Because they’ve been infiltrated by Khrasiel spies?” I asked.

“That’s part of it.” Nadar shrugged, furrowing his brows. “The guild is nothing but a tool of the Raghion Empire,” he explained. “It makes sense, seeing as their headquarters is based there. They act according to the empire’s wishes. Use them, but don’t trust them. That’s what my master-at-arms used to say.”

So the Adventurer’s Guild hadn’t been trustworthy for Tiuccia since at least the time Nadar’s master-at-arms had been alive, and now that there was evidence of Khrasiel sinking its fangs into it, it was even less reliable.

Nadar nodded in confirmation when I probed him about this. He frowned.

“That’s just how it is for Tiuccia right now. If you’d be more comfortable throwing your lot in with a stronger nation, then that’s certainly a path you could take. It’d be a problem for us if you decided to side with Khrasiel, seeing as they’re the enemy, but at least we’re allied with the empire. If you decide you’d rather support them, then I don’t think we could stop you.” He paused there, as if a thought had suddenly struck him. “Oh, by the way, someone’s supposed to come calling for you from the guild headquarters soon.”

“A scout?”

“Most likely, yeah.”

As I listened to what Nadar had to say, I tried to digest all of the new information I’d learned about my situation. Apparently, transmigrators were much rarer than I had presumed. It only made sense—there weren’t exactly a lot of Golden Dawn players to begin with, and since most of the players were young, that made it even less likely that a player would pass away while being an active player.

That was why, in this world, there was fierce competition to claim transmigrators.

Since I’d decided to be a crafter for my main job, my combat proficiency was only B-tier, and in the game, that’d made me pretty mediocre. But despite that, I was considered elite when compared to the average NPC in this world.

B-tier combat proficiency meant one was plenty skilled already, but just as Nadar had mentioned, I could boost my parameters with equipment and power-ups. Those would put me on par with S-tier players, at least in terms of raw strength. But they’d probably enhance themselves too, thereby maintaining the gap in our power levels...but I’d leave thinking about that for another day.

Basically, if I enhanced myself, I could also become S-tier.

Would that mean I was just as mighty as Nadar, Master of Blades? Maybe I really was among the most elite warriors in Tiuccia after all. Since archers were supposedly a minor combat job, it was possible I was the best with the bow in the entire country.

Crap, my teenage fantasies are starting to get out of hand. Besides, I could only call myself the best archer under the assumption that there were no other transmigrators who used a bow.

Overcome with excitement, I couldn’t help but ask Nadar about it.

“Um, Nadar...sir?”

“You don’t need to call me ‘sir.’ You’re having a hard time remembering to say that anyway, right?” He smiled awkwardly as if to say, I get it—it’s because you’re a transmigrator. But he let me call him by name without any bells or whistles, regardless.

“Thank you, Nadar. Could you tell me about any transmigrators in Tiuccia besides myself?”

He shook his head, seeming exasperated. “Didn’t I just tell you how important it was to keep transmigrator information private?”

He got me there, I conceded, feeling a little defeated. The expression on his face was conflicted as he looked at me.

“You’ll hear about them eventually—I’ll tell you when I decide the time is right. But until then, I can’t let you get in contact with them. We’re in the midst of war, after all,” he said.

Unlike his earlier candidness, he was being evasive here. I accepted his terms, although I couldn’t help but feel a little soured by them. It felt like he was hiding something from me, but I guess I couldn’t expect him to spill every secret. Tiuccia’s own adventurer’s guild had been infiltrated by spies from Khrasiel, after all.

But...why hadn’t anyone noticed them?

They might have been able to maintain their disguise with jamming supplies that prevented other NPCs—meaning whose proficiencies were similarly capped at B-tier—from detecting them, but those items would never work on transmigrators with an appraisal ability of A-tier or higher.

Following that train of thought, I couldn’t help but wonder about something. Did that mean there were no transmigrators in Tiuccia who fit the bill there?

If that’s the case, Tiuccia is in pretty hot water.

Appraisal was a basic ability that all crafters knew. If there was no one who could use it in Tiuccia, that meant either no transmigrators here had a high enough proficiency in it to overcome Khrasiel’s jammers, or there were no crafting-specialist transmigrators here in the first place.

With enough money, weapons and armor could always be procured. It was cheaper to craft them, of course, but never mind that. My point was that equipment crafted by transmigrators could be equipped by anyone one tier lower than the item itself. That meant that B-tier NPCs would be able to equip crafted A-rank gear.

So...what if Khrasiel had a transmigrator in their employ who was capable of crafting A-rank weapons?

A-rank weapons versus B-rank weapons. NPC soldiers with the former could easily gain the upper hand purely from the difference in arms.

So what did it really mean if there were no A-tier or higher crafting specialist transmigrators in Tiuccia?

Weapons and armor aside, that would mean Tiuccia wouldn’t have any means of appraisal or appraisal nullification. That meant spies could operate freely here. It’d be simple for them to obtain whatever information they wanted.

Even if we chose to ride into battle, we would’ve already lost the war from the inside long before we ever crossed swords.

I looked at Nadar grimly. Keeping my voice low, I said, “Tiuccia’s actually in deep trouble right now, isn’t it?”

He didn’t respond. That only made the hopelessness of our situation all the more evident.

16. If There’s a Flag, It Will Be Tripped

The unfortunate reality I had stumbled upon was that Tiuccia’s position in this war was terribly compromised. I wasn’t particularly patriotic or anything, but now, I felt more obliged to help with the war effort. The reason was simple: At this rate, Tiuccia was going to be completely destroyed in the earliest stages of the conflict between the Central Nations.

Wars waged in this world seemed to open with pitting NPCs against each other, which paved the way for the stars of the show—the combat specialist transmigrators—to enter the scene for a spectacular finale.

But Tiuccia was already having problems during the preliminary act. We didn’t seem to have any transmigrators capable of performing appraisals on A-rank or higher targets. In other words, that meant that even if we had transmigrators capable of crafting, they were only of B-tier skill or lower.

Tiuccia just wasn’t capable of crafting weapons or armor any higher than B-rank, which was the highest quality that NPCs could craft.

Khrasiel, on the other hand, had been using an A-rank artifact to control monsters. It was probably safe to assume that their armaments had been augmented by transmigrators as well, putting them well ahead of us in terms of firepower.

I was certain that doing nothing to help my compatriots—the people whom I considered friends and allies, generally speaking—when they were getting beaten to a pulp would definitely leave a bad taste in my mouth.

I could craft equipment.

The playstyle I’d enjoyed in my old life was all about manufacturing and production anyway. While I’d mainly focused on creating general items, I had also dabbled in weapons and armor, which I could make at rank A.

Everything I’d crafted thus far, I’d stuffed into my Pocket Dimension, which was an invaluable storage space for every transmigrator. The things I’d made were just prototypes I’d tinkered with and had no intention of using in actual combat whatsoever, so I offered them to Nadar. He was incredibly thankful.

But, being a non-metal crafter, all I could offer him were bows, staves, and maces. Hey, don’t be too upset, okay?

“Anyway, I’ll give you these for now,” I said. Standing at an open area that’d been provided for me, I stacked weapons and armor that I had pulled from my Pocket Dimension in a great pile. After I’d dropped every single piece I didn’t want to keep, the mountain of equipment held over two thousand items.

My Pocket Dimension could hold up to ninety-nine copies of each item, but I hadn’t made anywhere near that many of any one thing. Just how many different items had I made? Yeesh.

Though now that I was thinking back on my crafting career, I guess I had gone through a lot of trial and error to apply effects like poison or paralysis to weapons. You could create items in the game by pressing a single button, but in this world, actually crafting things was a whole different beast.

Curiously, whenever I’d gathered all the materials ready to create something, my body would begin to move on its own. It’d taken quite some time to both get used to it as well as figure out the little tricks that went into crafting, so the things I’d made varied in quality between C-rank to A-rank. But compared to the mass-produced things NPCs could make, my works were a great deal better.

While I’d had a large amount of weapons on hand, the number of armor pieces I could provide was limited. I hadn’t anticipated they’d eventually wind up in the hands of others, so I’d created them without an automatic size scaling function. Only people of a similar physique to my own would be able to use them.

I pulled out a nice round number of items: five hundred wooden shields and fifty sets of leather armor. I also had accessories and parameter-enhancing items, but my benevolence was running thin by this point.

People had gathered around my pile of equipment, their eyes gleaming with greed. They were appraising any outstanding pieces and claiming them for themselves without my consent or permission. Some of them even complained about the number of armor pieces that were available, especially in comparison to the vastly greater number of weapons.

I also heard the disgruntled grumbling of those who weren’t happy that there was a clear dearth of metal-based weapons and armor. Those people needed to give up. I couldn’t magic those out of thin air.

This reminded me of the time I’d modified the fields back home. I’d only taught the villagers the bare minimum on how to improve their own—they hadn’t offered me anything in return, so I had the distinct feeling of being used. I had never told them I was a transmigrator either.

Transmigrators weren’t genies you could coax from a magic lamp. Even Santa Claus only gave presents to good kids.

If I’d owed these people something for whatever reason, then their complaints might’ve been valid, but that wasn’t the case. Why would anyone think it was okay to insist on having things their way when dealing with a perfect stranger?

“Thanks, Kariya,” Nadar said, pulling me from my increasingly jaded thoughts. He’d been watching me retrieve gear from my Pocket Dimension since I’d started doing so.

He smoothly strode over and stood in front of me as if to block the rude stares I’d been getting. There, he began issuing orders to his men in a loud, clear voice.

“All weapons and armor here are now property of the royal army!” he began. “Those with skills in trade and commerce, start taking inventory. Once an item’s value has been assessed, have it transported to the storehouse!”

“Value?” I repeated, a little confused.

“Of course,” Nadar replied. “You didn’t think the kingdom would order them to be seized, did you? Your earnings might not be as impressive as they could be on the free market, but I hope you don’t mind, considering we’re at war. All of the weapons and armor you produce from now on will be directly purchased by the royal army. Oh, and the royal family will also be taking custody of you.” Raising his voice, Nadar called to one of his men. “Fiath!”

“Yes, sir!”

Having been called for, the man who had the same complexion as me stepped forward.

“Leadership of the Gaelius platoon will be transferred to this man so you can join my command with a clear conscience,” Nadar explained before turning his attention to Fiath once more. “Fiath, take Kariya and proceed with the transfer.”

“Understood, sir.”

The young man beckoned me over to him, grinning broadly. As he led me away, the gazes that’d been laser-focused on me up until a moment ago finally broke.

Glancing back, I noticed Nadar was now surrounded by a massive throng of people. The annoyance in his face was evident even in profile, but I soon lost sight of him in the crowd.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about him. Sir Nadar’s well aware of his tendency to make things hard for himself. He’s used to dealing with a little trouble,” said Fiath.

Like me, Fiath was a commoner. He was also apparently a few years my junior. At first, I tried to append “sir” to his name as well, but he brushed it off, saying it was fine for me to drop it—after all, I’d been addressing Nadar by name anyway.

Just as I’d been conscripted into the Brattor company, Fiath served Nadar’s private army as a vassal. His rank seemed far higher than that of a lowly platoon leader, though.

We walked side by side toward the Brattor company area, which was located on the east side of the encampment. My platoon was now going to be under Fiath’s command. I’d admittedly been worried about how my men would be treated, knowing I’d be the only one taken as the sole transmigrator, but it looked like Nadar had thought everything through for me. Relief washed over me.

“Ah, I see. So your family’s been living in Gaelius since your grandfather’s time? That’s good, then. Had you claimed your ancestors have been living in Brattor’s domain for generations, it would have been much more difficult to poach you from his army. For now, you should tell people your ancestors hail from the Hahm Archipelago, just as I do. It’s located far to the east of here, and its people are all of a tanned complexion that’s quite rare in these parts. Rare enough that some, like myself, end up being captured and sold as slaves,” Fiath said, laughing brightly.

“Slaves?” I repeated.

“That’s right. Trafficking’s illegal, of course, but it happens everywhere. I have some combat skills, so I killed the slave trader and escaped. Sir Nadar and his master-at-arms took me in when I had nowhere to go and even less idea of where I ought to be, so I decided to settle down in this country. I didn’t have any family left back in Hahm anyway. You haven’t any family either, right?”

“I don’t.”

Fiath quieted for a moment. “That’s good,” he finally said. “It’s hard when your loved ones’ lives are used against you. But you should really consider submitting yourself to Sir Nadar. I imagine some people have already started suspecting you have, though.”

Wait a minute...

“Fiath, are you and Nadar in that sort of relationship?” I gingerly asked.

He still smiled pleasantly. “Hardly! While he does seem like the type to mess around, I know he’s wholeheartedly devoted to his late wife. I’d like to take a lovely woman for myself one day as well, so I’d be happy to pass the wild rumors of being Sir Nadar’s bed warmer to you.”

I stared at him. “Huh?”

“You see, after I’d been captured, I was to be sold as a sex slave. It might’ve been because of my skin color. Unfortunately, people from Hahm are in popular demand in these parts because we’re so rare. Oh, but if anyone tries to force you into something against your wishes, you should just kill them. They reap what they sow, after all. You can leave the messy details for Sir Nadar to handle afterward. That’s what I do, anyway!”

Beneath the gentle, tranquil surface of this dark skinned, white-haired young man lurked a fierce warrior.

17. Another Life Lesson

Yesterday, at the same time Khrasiel had opened hostilities with Tiuccia and begun combat in earnest, a horde of monsters had also attacked. The Gaelius platoon had successfully fended them off, but in exchange for that victory, everyone but me had been sent to the aid station. They’d all gotten potion sickness from imbibing too many MP restoratives, which the situation had demanded of them as they’d used magic bows to repel the monsters.

Potion sickness was exactly as it sounded—drinking a large amount of restoratives over a very short period of time would cause symptoms similar to an intense hangover. That was as bad as it got, though; unlike with alcohol, there wouldn’t be any severe or lasting side effects.

I’d been confident that they’d all recover after a full night’s rest, but when Fiath and I visited my men to explain I was handing the reins over to Fiath, I discovered that my old blacksmithing friend was still bedridden.

“So, that’s why you came to see me?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, more or less. I also had something I wanted to tell you.”

The aid station tent was filled with rows upon rows of empty beds. He seemed to be the only patient occupying one. With a sigh, I sat myself on the bed next to his. He tried to sit up, but I stopped him and insisted he stay lying down, so he settled back into position.

Yesterday, he’d fought tooth and nail at my side until the very end. He must’ve drunk far more potions than anyone else.

“Thanks for keeping up with me, Arowa. How are you feeling?” I asked.

“A lot better than this morning, that’s for sure. Man, I’ve never had such a bad hangover, even after going on benders... Was it really okay to drink that much?”

“The doc said you’d be fine after some rest, right? Well, drink this—it’ll make it go faster.”

I handed Arowa a tiny glass bottle. Inside was a golden liquid, which he eyed with undisguised suspicion. But, regardless, he uncorked the bottle and downed its contents in a single swig.

“That tasted pretty good,” he said after a moment.

“Glad to hear it. How do you feel now?”

“Like I’ve been brought back to life. I feel so good, it’s crazy,” he said. “Wait, hold on. How’d that cure my potion sickness? And my finger doesn’t hurt when I move it anymore—you know, the one on my left hand that I fractured in a weird way all those years ago. That’s all healed too?”

“Oh, yeah. That happens with elixirs.” I shrugged.

“Elix— What?!”

The panacea—elixir.

Elixirs were a miracle medicine capable of curing a person of all status abnormalities. They could even revive the dead. Among all craftable items, elixirs were the very zenith of consumables.

Because they were potions that could only be crafted by S-tier players at the very minimum, I’d made and sold them as a lucrative side hustle back in Golden Dawn. They were really nice restoratives that could be crafted from materials found in the central nations, so they didn’t require any expeditions to far-off places.

Oh, whoops.

While I was busy reminiscing, I was suddenly grabbed by the collar.

“I can’t believe you made me drink that...” Arowa groaned.

“What? It’s just a little thanks for helping so much yesterday.”

“What moron would go and drink a cure-all for a little potion sickness?! I could’ve just slept it off, you know! You have no idea how much elixirs cost, do you, you ignoramus?!”

“I’ve never bought one before, so no, I don’t. But if it helps, at least that was homemade?” I said.

“That doesn’t help.”

Arowa curled up on the bed in regret, and as we talked, I realized from our conversation that elixirs must be exceedingly expensive here.

In Golden Dawn, a single bottle of elixir had cost ten thousand gold. Oh, by the way, the currency in Golden Dawn was gold, written as “GD.” I guessed that it got its name from the title of the game. The value of one gold had been about ten Japanese yen. Since that should’ve held true even in this world, all I needed to do was add a zero to the end.

If a single bottle of elixir was worth 100,000 yen, then...that was pretty damn expensive. Not the kind of price a college student could foot the bill for, but a working adult? It’d suck, but that would be an amount still within “grin and bear it” territory—especially since elixirs could serve as insurance if there were no healer in a party.

Coughing up ten thousand gold was, by and large, a more attractive option than dying in the middle of a gaming session and having to start over.

Besides, it’s just made-up money in a game. Well, it was. I guess it’s real money now.

“Seriously, listen. I know you’ve spent all your time as a shut-in in the mountains, so you don’t really have any idea of how much money’s worth. Even a night’s stay at a decent inn doesn’t cost a hundred gold! And then...” Arowa continued rattling off numbers at me.

His explanation, given from the point of view of an adult man snapping back at me for my wastefulness, was ultimately beyond shocking. Since I’d been bartering for goods my whole life, my apparent understanding of monetary values in this world was well off the mark. I just hadn’t noticed.

It wasn’t one zero I needed to add here, but two. The value of an elixir in my mind then shot up to an eye-watering number as a single bottle would cost the equivalent of a million yen.

However, their real value here was also further adjusted for the fact that only transmigrators could craft them. Elixirs were no longer a mere ten thousand gold like in the game, but a hundred thousand. So, in all, a single bottle of elixir was worth ten million yen.

“Hang on, isn’t it kinda crazy that I can make them?” I voiced my thoughts aloud.

Arowa sighed in exasperation. “Are you finally getting it now? And while we’re on the topic of how dense you are, you really need to do something about how much you stand out. That’s the real crazy part. Do you have any idea what people are saying about you already?”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re saying you’re the man who walked out on his lordship’s nephew to seduce the Master of Blades in a single night.”

Wide-eyed with shock, I couldn’t say anything.

Arowa’s shoulders slumped when he realized his words had taken me entirely by surprise. “So it really was just a rumor... If you actually had slept with him, I would’ve told you to make good use of him. Still, though, the way you guys talk really gives the impression you’ve got your eyes on each other.”

“He figured out that I’m a transmigrator, that’s all. As for me, I’ve known his name since my old life.”

Arowa didn’t say anything for a long while. When he finally did, he sounded subdued. “You really are a transmigrator...”

There was a trace of pain in the look he gave me. I could only smile at him softly in return. I hadn’t meant to deceive him. I just hadn’t told him. But in the end, it looked like he’d figured out my secret on his own.

“Did you know?” I ventured.

“Yeah. Well, maybe not exactly—at least, back when you were still going on about marrying your girlfriend, I hadn’t noticed anything strange about you. But once your grandparents passed away and you stopped coming down from the mountains, I started kinda thinking that maybe there was something different about you.”

“You’re right, that was about when I realized it myself.”

Arowa studied me for a moment, then heaved a deep sigh. “You jackass. You knew people from the adventurer’s guild came around the village now and again, but you ignored them. Did you know you were supposed to report that you’re a transmigrator?”

“Didn’t have a clue. But yeah, they’ve already raked me over the coals for that, so it’s all water under the bridge now.”

“You’re so dumb.” He smiled bitterly as if to say, Why are you always like this?

Smiling ruefully just the same, I drummed up as much positivity as I could and told him the truth.

“And that’s how I ended up formally enlisted by the kingdom,” I said, finishing my story. “I’ll be placed under Nadar’s command...or at least, I’m pretty sure about that. I only found that out this morning, and they’re still working out the details after what happened yesterday.”

“I see.”

“Our platoon’s being transferred from Brattol to Nadar’s direct command too. You remember that Fiath guy under Nadar who helped us defend the fort, right? He’ll be taking care of you guys from now on. Honestly, I was really worried about you guys when I found out I was getting moved, but I’m glad Nadar thought about the platoon too.”

“Gotcha. I’ll follow his orders.”

I stood from the bed where I’d been sitting.

“Arowa,” I called out softly, feeling the name of the friend I’d known for twenty-five years slip through my lips.

Turning my left palm upward, I manifested a bow from my Pocket Dimension. It was a two-handed C-rank bow, and nothing at all like the magic bows I’d modified to extreme lengths for our platoon. I’d designed this one to be simple, lightweight, and durable—a bow that Arowa would be able to use with ease.

“This is for you, as a goodbye.”

He stared at me wordlessly before finally accepting it. “Thanks; I’ll take good care of it. But you’re the one leaving the platoon, so wouldn’t you normally be the one getting a parting gift?”

“It’s fine. You and your family have always done right by me all this time. Besides, I’ve got another gift for you. This is the real present, so keep it close, all right?”

Smiling, I stepped forward and placed the bow against the side of his bed. Then, without skipping a beat, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“K-Kariya?!” he yelped. “I’m not interested in you this way! I’ve never been interested, and I’d rather not start being interested...”

“Oh, shut up and just listen, dumbass.”

His reaction was a fair one, though. Because no matter who it was that did it, if someone pulled themselves up on the edge of a bed with one knee and then threw themselves over the other in a hug, it was only reasonable for a person to be concerned for their chastity.

Sorry, Arowa. I know you’re a devoted husband.

I had to do this, though. Still hugging him close, I leaned in close, my lips just barely reaching his ear.

Then, taking care to keep my voice low, I said under my breath, “There’s someone peeking in through the tent flap. I don’t want them to overhear what I’m about to tell you, so I’m going to whisper, all right?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t move, just listen,” I stressed. “Our people are used to hunting monsters, not other human beings, so if I had you transferred to the royal army with me, you wouldn’t be able to use your strengths anyway. It’s for the best that you stay here and handle monsters from the Black Forest. That’s what I told them, anyway, to keep you guys from being transferred—so you’ll be patrolling the edge of the woods like always.”

I tightly squeezed my eyes shut for a second and dropped my voice even lower.

“If Khrasiel annihilates our army, escape into the Black Forest. You still have the monster-repelling sachet I gave you before, right? If you soak that in water, its effects will intensify for three days. You should be able to pass through the woods and reach the other side in that time if you keep running without rest. Don’t ever take the main roads, got it?”

“Kariya,” he breathed after a moment.

“Once you’ve made it through, go back to Gaelius.”

Arowa wrapped his trembling arms around my back in return. He hugged me tightly, bringing his own lips close to my ear.

In a husky voice, he whispered to me, “Are we going to lose?”

I considered my words for a moment. “That’s all I can say, just in case the worst comes to pass. I’ll be doing my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

A distant look settled in my eyes as I patted my friend on the back soothingly.

I contemplated the possible outcomes of this war. To be perfectly frank, our backs were already to the wall. I doubted we could do much if I were the only crafting specialist in our army. The key to winning our battles, then, would be the amount of A-rank and higher resources we had stockpiled.

Seriously, though. What the hell? A hundred thousand gold for a single elixir?

Other items were sure to be just as expensive as Tiuccia didn’t have anyone who could make them, after all. That meant that if we didn’t end the battle with Khrasiel quickly, we were doomed to a war of attrition we couldn’t win.

Hmm, yeah. There’s no way we can win, at least not that I can think of. But it’s probably okay to lose a battle as long as we win the war, right...?

18. Farewell

“I heard you were back, Kariya.”

Without warning, the entrance to the tent was pulled aside.

As Leto entered, I pushed Arowa away and distanced myself from his bedside.

Sorry, Arowa.

Even though I knew someone had been spying on us, this was the first time I had been made acutely aware of just how terrible being caught “cheating” was for the heart.

But huh...so it was Leto who’d been watching us. Of all people.

Crap. The weird rumors about me were about to get worse.

“It seems they’ve finished appraising the bow you left with the royal army, so it’s been returned. I’d like to speak with you about it. Is now a good time?” asked Leto. He smiled radiantly as he spoke and wasn’t showing even the slightest sign of having spied on us through the tent flaps earlier.

I nodded cheerfully in kind, accepting his invitation.

Hmm. My Sevenstrike Bow was confiscated after we repelled those waves of monsters yesterday, and now it’s been returned, huh? I’d figured it’d been requisitioned and I’d never see it again, but given that the MP cost per shot was seriously nothing to sneeze at, they must’ve found it too unwieldy.

Creating a weapon of such superior performance was every craftsman’s dream. But dreams weren’t worth much for the little folk who were just after defensive armaments. To them, the most important things in a weapon to help someone protect and save lives were reliability and stability.

As I headed over to Leto, who was waiting for me at the tent entrance, Arowa called out to me.

“Kariya! We’ll see each other again, right?” he asked.

Why did I still feel like I was in the middle of a sticky relationship mess? It was like there was a rivalry going on, and I was cheating.

“Yeah, after the war’s over. Don’t you die either.” Keeping my tone light, I raised a hand and bid Arowa farewell.

Leto had been holding the entrance to the tent aloft as he waited for me and promptly led me from the medical aid station to his own tent. There, atop a table inside this tent I’d visited dozens of times before, lay my Sevenstrike Bow. It didn’t appear to have been disassembled or examined in detail.

Although I’d planned on simply retrieving my bow and leaving, Leto stopped me by offering me a drink. In the adult world, that kind of invitation was tantamount to saying there were things on the table that needed discussing. Being a commoner, I had no right to refuse his offer, so I took the proffered seat.

At a desk in the corner of the tent, Leto poured wine into a cup. He then brought it to me with a gentle smile.

It probably wasn’t poisoned. I was much more useful alive than dead, after all. Similarly, I doubted that it’d been spiked with anything weird.

After my talk with Nadar, I’d hidden an assembly of protective bracelets beneath the cloth I had wrapped around my wrist as an arm guard, just in case. They were homemade accessories that could, for example, prevent reductions in attack power or protect me against status ailments. Since they were made of wood, they’d only be good for one use before they’d need to be thrown away, though.

The lukewarm wine was dry and full-bodied. It soothed my empty stomach, but I couldn’t say that it tasted very good.

My bracelets didn’t react. That was a relief—the wine hadn’t been drugged after all.

Wait, Leto is someone I can trust, isn’t he?

“We’ve heard from the royal army. You’ll be answering directly to the royal family,” he told me.

“Really?”

“Well, transmigrators are incredibly valuable resources in times of war. I was hoping you’d remain in our company, but how do you feel about it?” With a thin smile on his face, Leto then explained that if I preferred to stick with the Brattol company, his uncle had said he’d be more than happy to grant me status as a high-ranking vassal.

I chose my next words carefully. “My own opinion doesn’t matter much, does it? I’m meant to follow orders from above.”

“Transmigrators aren’t to be bound by any one individual’s orders,” he said. “So says the agreement between the adventurer’s guild, which represents you transmigrators, and the central nations.”

Unbound by the borders drawn on a map, transmigrators are free to choose whom they wish to serve. Thus, we must respect their decisions.

“A shame you don’t seem to have any attachment to the Brattol lands, despite being born and raised there,” murmured Leto. A troubled smile accompanied the sorrow in his voice.

I couldn’t say anything to object. He was right. If not for the war and my subsequent conscription into the army, I would have left the Gaelius Mountains in the dust long ago and set out for a land with which I had no ties.

As long as transmigrators had memories of their past lives, just like how I could recall being a Japanese man, it might well be impossible to form any true fondness for this world. A person could find utopia within the confines of the game of Golden Dawn, a place where they might escape the realities of their daily life. But this reality born from the game was no such utopia.

“But if that’s how you feel, then that’s all there is to it,” Leto continued. “In that case, I’ve a parting gift for you. My uncle entrusted this to me, saying it should go to you should you refuse his offer. I’d be glad if you wore it as a man of our Brattol lands, though.”

He produced a wooden box from somewhere.

“Here.”

He opened the lid. Nestled within the box was a finely tooled leather collar, designed to suit even a man. Set in the center was a shining green gemstone of a similar hue to my eyes. Even at a glance, it was obvious that the stone commanded a fairly high price.

“I couldn’t possibly accept this,” I said, “though I appreciate the gesture from his lordship. His kindness is enough for me.”

But Leto didn’t accept my humble refusal. “Just take it,” he insisted. “I’m certain it’ll complement you perfectly. I’ll fasten it on you now, okay?”

Lifting the collar from the box, Leto circled around me to the rear of my chair. He didn’t seem to be giving me a choice and told me to show my neck. I lifted my hair, which was still bound with the white ribbon.

When he slid the leather band around my neck, the sharp noise of something cracking echoed through the tent.

“What?” I heard Leto say.

I, however, was speechless.

I grabbed the torn strip of leather with trembling hands and appraised it.

Even before I could cast my ability, I’d known what sort of accessory it was. The strange noise that had pierced the air had been the sound of the gemstone on the collar shattering. One of my concealed bracelets had also snapped.

My appraisal had identified it. “‘Collar of Servitude,’” I murmured.

Leto said nothing as he continued to stand behind me.

His silence spoke volumes. He was clearly aware of the true nature of the collar he’d received from his uncle.

This was a collar meant to leash slaves or prisoners of war. It had been made to ensure one’s complete domination over another, brooking no resistance.

However, what was most telling was that it was an A-rank item. If it’d been meant to be used on an NPC, then a rank of B would have sufficed, seeing as that was their tier cap. But this A-rank Collar of Servitude, which had been intended for me, was clearly designed to seal a transmigrator.

“Did you think my own tier was A because of the weapons I’d been making?” I asked.

Standing from my seat, I turned around to face my liege lord’s nephew. He hadn’t moved. Frozen in place, he stood there, face flushed red as he chewed his lip. Maybe he had realized how terribly despicable it’d been of him to try to pull something like this.

Given that he’d been assigned to the supply corps despite the fact that he should have taken up the sword as a member of his noble house, maybe his moral compass had diverged from that of his family.

He was such a kind person.

Back in Ruicerl, he probably hadn’t had any ulterior motives when he happened to approach a bearded mountain man like me. The afternoons we’d spent together, whiling away the time chatting about nothing in particular, had truly and honestly been fun.

“Please accept my Sevenstrike Bow,” I began. “It isn’t for his lordship, but for you. I was touched by the kindness you showed me when I was nothing but a countryside farmer. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Leto began to protest. “Wait, no, you’ve got it wrong! I’m sorry, Kariya. I didn’t mean for this. I just—”

“I’ll return your ribbon as well. I don’t need it anymore.”

He went silent once again.

I pulled the white ribbon from my hair, freeing the strands, and placed the strip of fabric on the table. With that, I left Leto behind.

***

I didn’t know why, but when I returned to Nadar without the ribbon, he gave me a new one.

This one was also white. Ruffled and lacy, it was charming, like one that a woman might wear. Was this a sign that he was willing to offer me his protection as well?

I knew Nadar didn’t have any ulterior motives, but whether the people around us would understand that was a different issue entirely.

19. Intermission I

“Why the hell did you go and do that, Brattor?!”

Nadar’s rage ripped through the air in a string of curses for the provincial lord as he violently slammed a fist on the table. On the table sat a torn leather collar—the remnants of an A-rank Collar of Servitude.

Moments earlier, the transmigrator had come to Nadar’s tent, looking awfully disturbed. He’d left the proof of Brattor’s transgression behind. He was gone now as Nadar had asked Fiath to take him to the tent reserved for visitors within Nadar’s own encampment area.

While he was green and a new addition to Nadar’s company, it was out of the question to treat the young man as a mere conscript. But the time was not yet right to publicize the fact that he was a transmigrator either.

The other low-ranking soldiers were still riding the high from their real first combat experience. If the attractive young transmigrator were simply treated as the conscript he was and left to his own devices around the other soldiers, it was easy for Nadar to imagine what might happen to him.

If something like that did happen, that young man wasn’t likely to take any further aggression lying down. He was, at minimum, an A-tier transmigrator, after all. Should he choose to retaliate in anger, it was entirely possible that he’d wipe out a squad or two.

But what Nadar was really concerned about was not the loss in personnel if that came to pass—they would’ve deserved their punishments. He was worried about the possibility that the transmigrator would abandon Tiuccia’s army out of disgust.

He’d heard that most transmigrators had a strong sense of duty. His master-at-arms, a transmigrator himself, had once explained with an embarrassed smile that duty was of utmost importance to Japanese people. If you treated them with the utmost respect, they’d always pay the courtesy back in spades. But if you showed them disrespect instead, they’d simply leave without a word.

Given that transmigrators were backed by the adventurer’s guild, they didn’t owe their loyalty to any one country. That was a truth that Tiuccia knew better than any other nation.

An ashen-haired man stood at Nadar’s side after having cleared the table of emptied cups. “You should have simply let the fool pay for his error with his neck,” he muttered.

Nadar cradled his head in his hands and moved only his eyes to glance at him. That man—his milk brother and faithful retainer—had been at his side since birth, and he kept his place even now on the battlefield.

Having noticed Nadar’s reaction, he continued. “Perhaps it would be best to offer the transmigrator an apology before our relationship with him worsens. Should we give him Brattor’s head, along with that of his nephew’s, and half their house, he might accept.”

Nadar thought silently for a moment. “No,” he finally said. “Kariya’s already forgiven him. Seems like he feels he owes some gratitude to the man for promoting him to a platoon leader. If he’s let Brattor off the hook, we’d best not do anything. At least, not to the nephew—the uncle, on the other hand, is another matter entirely. The crown will deal with him for engaging in violence toward a transmigrator.”

“By the way...is the transmigrator’s relationship with the Brattor lordling truly as close as the rumors suggest?” the man asked. “An idle curiosity. I am not particularly invested,” he added quietly.

“By the sounds of it, you are. But don’t worry, Gwyn. The rumors are merely that: rumors.” Nadar smiled ruefully. He knew that his brother, who had abstained from marriage his whole life, was attracted to men. “Tell me, Gwyn, what’s your assessment of Kariya? I can’t say I’ll entirely understand how you might feel, but go on.”

Gwyn did not immediately respond. “Why the sudden interest?” he eventually asked.

“Never mind the details, just tell me. I’ve never had a firm eye for men, you know. There are things even a cast of Appraisal can’t tell you, after all.”

The man’s cheeks were tinged with red. He sighed and slowly began to explain.

“It’s nothing short of a miracle that he hasn’t taken any man as a partner thus far. I’ve heard he hails from Gaelius, which may explain his fairly conservative dress; he certainly doesn’t expose much skin. I believe such modesty is characteristic of the highlanders.”

Gwyn continued. “As for his face, his features are well-proportioned, making him quite the handsome fellow. I don’t mean to exoticize the people of Hahm, but their people are known for a lustrous quality in their skin that draws the eye. He is no different. I imagine that, were I to touch such velvety smooth skin, I would never be able to pull myself away. Yet he covers himself from head to toe, which only fuels my desire to divest him of his clothing to see what lies beneath...”

Nadar listened quietly as Gwyn explained.

“But most compelling is the color of his eyes,” Gwyn said. “They are a vibrant peacock green that would put even the finest black pearls to shame. If I could peer into the depths of those strangely dazzling green eyes but once...” He trailed off there. Then, he broke from his reverie to look at Nadar. “You’ve yet to look into the abyss yourself, right? I promise you that if you do, you’ll never turn back. Nadar, those bewitching eyes are something ethereal.”

Gwyn’s tone then turned solemn. “They are like a bottomless lake in the depths of the woods with waters a glittering green. Were I to take a step forward and sink into its depths...I would never be able to resurface.”

Nadar was taken aback. He knew his brother had a penchant for waxing poetic, but the extent of Gwyn’s praise surprised him greatly. He’d insisted that his brother speak, but now, the results had him holding his head for different reasons.

“So... I take that to mean you find him so attractive that you’d lose control?” Nadar sighed. “To me, he’s just a nice guy. He’s bright and strong to boot. He’s got guts too, but I gotta admit, his naivety is a little worrying. Makes me think he might get taken advantage of by some ruffian or some sort. But he’s got a good head on his shoulders, so maybe my worry’s unwarranted.”

“Ah, I thought that might’ve been why you gave him that ribbon,” remarked Gwyn.

The young man typically kept his hair casually tied back, and Nadar had given him an accessory that was clearly expensive, even at a glance. That ribbon, on top of hinting that its wearer was under the protection of a powerful supporter, had suited his foreign-looking charm perfectly.

“But that ribbon will surely lead to some misunderstandings on account of his looks,” Gwyn added. “When the Brattor boy gave him one, he was almost certainly doing it with that intention, but don’t forget that your own actions will be taken in the same fashion regardless of whether you intend it or not.”

“Fiath seemed to think so, and now you do as well...” Nadar sighed again. “Oh, right. I ought to inform the house about him. After the war ends, I’d like for us to remain on familial grounds with him.”

“Please do. I believe he will become someone special to you, young master,” Gwyn gently remarked.

Nadar smiled, thinking fondly of his loved ones back in his house’s fief.

At that moment, a young man with dark skin and fair hair returned to the tent, sporting his own bright smile. “I’ve returned, Sir Nadar, Sir Gwyn. Kariya’s been safely seen to his temporary quarters.”

Refusing the chair drawn for him with a laugh, Fiath remained standing as he delivered his report. “I asked him how he felt about the collar incident. I was worried, you see—but he doesn’t seem to have been bothered by it much. He simply said nobles were frightening, so I cautioned him to be wary of them precisely because of that.”

“But he wasn’t concerned by the collar itself?” Nadar asked. “Well, it’s best for him to be on guard anyhow. Good to hear that he isn’t bothered. Was there anything else?”

“The guards at his tent seemed as though they might be charmed by him, but should he be molested in his sleep, it’d reflect poorly on you, sir, so I took the initiative to reprimand them ahead of time.”

He really is popular, isn’t he?

Fiath continued his report in earnest. “I spoke with his men when I took over the platoon as well. Considering what they told me, it appears his men had also had a difficult time maintaining themselves around him, even during their march. Since he had been cooped up in the mountains all this time, he knows little of the world. He seems to have a flimsy awareness of the dangers others may present too, so his platoon asked that we keep an eye on him.”

“He really hasn’t an interest in enjoying himself with other men, does he...” Gwyn murmured in a tone laden with disappointment.

Nadar pretended not to hear that. “Thank you for your report, Fiath. You may take your leave now. Good night.”

“Please excuse me, then... Oh, but one last thing.” Just as he was about to exit the tent, Fiath turned back to flash his usual smile at Nadar. “Sir, I know this may be a rather difficult topic to broach with Kariya so soon after the Brattor’s aggression, but I do believe you ought to tell him, sooner than later...that aside from him, Tiuccia has no transmigrators.”

Nadar didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

“Good night.” With that, the young man with a complexion so rarely seen in Tiuccia pushed aside the tent’s flap and left.

Left behind in the tent, a master and his retainer silently watched the fabric sway until it came to a stop.

20. To Tachyrinn Citadel

The world in the game Golden Dawn had been a vast place. If a person were to do things the same way as in real life, even traveling between places would take a lot of time. That was why players were endowed with several abilities and could use specialized facilities that would assist them on their romp around the world.

There were two types of movement abilities: Return and Jump.

Return didn’t have a rank restriction on usage. As its name suggested, it allowed a player to instantaneously return to their home base. However, it couldn’t be used within enemy-controlled territories, meaning it was not of any use for escaping a precarious situation.

Jump, on the other hand, allowed a player to instantly teleport to any location within the player’s line of sight. It could be used by all A-tier players (or higher) regardless of their main specialization.

Unlike Return, Jump could be used during combat. This ability added a level of intensity to fights between top-tier players.

But despite its versatility, it wasn’t an all-powerful ability. While it was possible for a caster to teleport others alongside them, there was a load restriction—up to the caster’s own weight. This meant that a person could bring along others who were smaller and lighter than themselves.

So, instead of Jumping, people could use specialized magic arrays to teleport whole parties of players together. These were known as teleportation portals.

The magic arrays that served as portal endpoints were scattered throughout the land, which meant that players could travel all around the world using these portals. A person could even go directly from the Central Nations to the edgelands using them, if they wanted.

These portals could also transport everything that was within the space of the array itself. Thanks to their relatively large size, it was possible to teleport not only people, but supplies and merchandise as well.

A facility that hosted several teleportation portals was known as a teleportation station. There were two such stations within Tiuccia. One was on the outskirts of the royal capital, Altiuccia. The other was located in Tachyrinn Citadel, which was located in an evergreen forest at the southern point of Croway Plains.

Those were the travel modes of choice back in the game I’d played in my old life. In other words, getting around from place to place didn’t take much time at all. A lot of players preferred to spend their time on combat or exploration, after all.

Teleportation stations were kind of like subway stations. People would Jump or use items to reach the nearest teleportation portal to connect to a station, and from there, they’d connect to one to bring them to their intended destination. Then, to wrap things up, a single cast of Return was all that they’d need to get back to base.

Back then, I had never thought about how NPCs in the game actually got around this massive world. But now, I understood. They walked on foot. Or they rode horses, carriages, or even took ships.

Right now, I was traveling in one such carriage.

“I never would’ve guessed you couldn’t ride a horse,” remarked Nadar, who was sitting across from me in the carriage.

“Well, I’ve never been anything more than a lowly farmer. A horse was well beyond my means. Besides, even if I had one, it wouldn’t be good for anything but being a pack animal, given how precipitous the mountains were in Gaelius,” I explained.

If anyone were under the mistaken impression that transmigrators were capable of anything, they needed to abandon that fantasy immediately.

Horseback riding was a skill that players could develop in Golden Dawn, and some players did, in fact, enjoy riding horses. But I doubted the vast majority of players bothered with it.

It was a lot faster to just Jump to places you needed to go, and keeping a horse was exorbitantly expensive. People wouldn’t deal with mounted gameplay unless they really liked horseback riding.

“Do you mind if I arrange for you to learn at Tachyrinn? I think it’s best that you know how,” he said. “If the royal family needs to travel by horse, you’d only slow the entire entourage down in a carriage.”

“All right,” I said, nodding. I was looking out the carriage window at the scenery passing by, but my gaze grew distant as I mulled over my current circumstances.

Congratulations, Kariya of Gaelius.

I had been directly hired by the Tiuccian royal family, the very people who ruled my mother country. That being said, my contract was only for the duration of the war.

Given that I’d played a crafter prior to my reincarnation, the powers that be had probably gauged that I’d be more useful providing logistical support than fighting on the front lines. That was smart, if you asked me. I was pretty sure I would be killed instantly if I had to go up against an S-tier or higher combat specialist. All I was good at facing off against were NPCs and monsters that milled about in the beginner areas.

That aside, there seemed to be some concern over security for the royals. Apparently, there were no other transmigrators in the entire country who could use Appraisal.

From now on, my duties would involve using said ability for anti-espionage measures. I’d be responsible for detecting hidden surveillance devices in the vicinity of my charges, as well as keeping an eye out for infiltrating spies.

While Tachyrinn had been used as a teleportation station in the world of Golden Dawn, it functioned as an actual fortress in this world. Both personnel and supplies were assembled there before being transported to the front lines in Croway.

Tachyrinn was also playing host to Tiuccia’s princes and princess right now.

“Hold on... Weren’t His Majesty the King and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince only spearheading the march to Croway?” I asked. “Even if, for argument’s sake, they had to stand on the field as our commanders, wouldn’t it be easier to protect the remaining members of the royal family in Altiuccia?”

“I wish they’d return to Altiuccia immediately as well, but we have no choice. We’ve had delays in deploying the Ivory Veil, and we can’t afford to have them leave before the job’s finished,” said Nadar.

“The Ivory Veil...” I repeated.

I’d heard that name before. It was an exceptionally rare artifact regarded as a national treasure. It was also only usable by NPCs.

Just like the Scatterbloom in Nadar’s possession, the Ivory Veil belonged to a class of items known as Heraldries. These items could only be wielded by a blood member of the family to which the Heraldry belonged. That being said, whether the wielder would be able to use it to its maximum potential was another question entirely.

The Ivory Veil was a defensive aegis that could be deployed over a large area. It had previously been used to defend the capital, but now, it seemed the royal family meant to use it to protect their troops in Croway.

“Their Royal Highnesses the First and Third Princes, as well as the First Princess, are staying at Tachyrinn at the moment. I’ve already introduced you to His Majesty and the Crown Prince, and now you’re about to meet these other three members of the royal family, got it? Once the formalities are done, the First Prince will return to Altiuccia, and the Third Prince will be coming with me to Croway for the Ivory Veil’s deployment. Your job will be to stay in Tachyrinn to guard the First Princess.”

“What?!” I exclaimed.

I never would have guessed that my mission would be to protect a princess.

21. Now That I Think About It...

Night had already settled in when our carriage arrived at Tachyrinn. We’d pressed on at an astonishing speed, necessitating several changes in horses. The reason for this breakneck pace was...

“You must’ve had a difficult time traveling by moonlight, Nadar. We received word by way of crystal earlier, but I couldn’t help but worry for your safety.”

“My deepest apologies for keeping you waiting, Your Highness.”

Three members of the royal family, the ruling house of this nation, had been awaiting our arrival.

The dark-haired First Prince had been waiting for Nadar (and me) in the spacious entrance hall of the citadel. He was rather handsome, even at a glance, but his piercing expression, accentuated by the deep creases on his brow, was intimidating.

Maybe there had been something that demanded his immediate attention back at the capital. I must’ve thrown a wrench into their plans for the day—I hadn’t told them I couldn’t ride a horse until after they’d gone through the trouble of saddling one up and had it brought to me, after all.

The prince, who had been exchanging pleasantries with Nadar, studied me for a moment. His gaze was severe. Then, his dark eyes widened.

“Is this the man, then?” he asked Nadar.

“That’s correct. His name is Kariya, and he hails from the Gaelius Mountains. Since he grew up so deeply in the mountain range, he didn’t know anything of the adventurer’s guild. He was conscripted for our conflict with Khrasiel, and it was there that he first announced he was a transmigrator.”

The prince took a step toward me. “This is quite the windfall for Tiuccia. How fortuitous that a high-tier transmigrator should appear before us now,” he murmured.

While much taller than I, he was also a young man. From what I’d heard on the grapevine, he was also twenty-five years of age. But unlike the blond king and the crown prince, the First Prince had long, black hair that cascaded down his back. It shone with a bright luster that almost made it seem wet.

I had the distinct impression that he didn’t look much like the king or the crown prince, although that might’ve been due to the rumors I’d heard of him being illegitimate. People had whispered that his mother had been a low-born concubine, and that was why, despite his standing as the eldest son of the king, he had no claim to the throne. The title of crown prince and heir apparent had fallen to the Second Prince, the first son of the queen consort.

He greeted me. “I am Lucian. Welcome, Kariya of Gaelius.”

“Just Kariya is fine. Thank you. I hope to be of help,” I replied, followed by a flash of the service industry smile I’d picked up in my old life. I added a bow for good measure.

Nadar had told me I didn’t need to get on the ground and grovel, but I didn’t know how formalities were ordinarily observed in this world either. I decided to behave the way I had when dealing with important clients to avoid any breaches in etiquette.

For some reason, the prince seemed taken aback by my smile. Maybe it’d been a bit odd. I’d been living alone in the mountains for a long time, so I wasn’t used to putting my obsequious business look back on. Regardless, my sincerity seemed to shine through—the prince awkwardly returned my smile with his own. The wrinkles in his brow were now gone.

“Nadar, you still need to meet with others, don’t you? I’ll introduce Kariya to my siblings,” he offered. “You should go ahead and finish your other engagements.”

“Understood, Your Highness. Once I’m done, I’ll head to the underground portal...” Nadar trailed off as he glanced at me. “Kariya, you don’t need to look so upset.”

I hadn’t expected that we’d be going our own ways here; the shock must’ve been plain on my face. Nadar gave me a rough, bemused smile. He clapped his hand on my head and stroked my hair.

I was being treated like a child.

“Everything’ll be fine,” he told me. “I’ll see you later.”

As soon as Nadar began to walk away, he was approached by the soldiers who had, up until then, been patiently standing along the hall’s walls. They must’ve been waiting for him to finish with the prince.

While I watched him disappear down the hall with the gaggle of soldiers, the prince spoke to me.

“You’re quite attached to him, aren’t you?” he remarked.

“Huh?” If he was implying something, I didn’t understand what.

“It’s nothing,” he replied. “I’ll bring you to my siblings.” Prince Lucian proceeded to leave the hallway and told me to follow.

The walls of the entrance hall were lined with several staircases, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he headed toward the large doors directly in front of us at the end of the hall.

In Golden Dawn, the teleportation portals in Tachyrinn Citadel had been located underground. Tachyrinn was considered a teleportation station due to the multitude of portals set up below the fortress proper. Many players would pass through it to transfer to other places.

But none knew what lay in the aboveground parts of the fortress and its towering spires. The doors at the end of the entrance hall had never been opened. No event had run in the game that had ever necessitated going beyond them. It had probably been because of some boring, complicated circumstance that the developers couldn’t be bothered to explain, like server capacity limits or something. But this wasn’t the world of Golden Dawn anymore.

The soldiers stationed on either side of the double doors pushed them open as the prince approached, and I stepped into an area of the citadel that had never existed in the game.

The interior was austere as befitting a military installation, as soldiers frequently passed up and down its halls. But this was only the case up until Tachyrinn’s third floor—its fourth floor and beyond had an entirely different atmosphere. This area of the fortress must’ve been used as living quarters for distinguished guests. Women, seeming to be maids, were here as well.

The prince finally stopped before an exceptionally ornate door on the fifth and topmost floor. Turning around to confirm that I’d kept up with him, he nodded to me before calling through the door.

“Catharine? Wald? I know you’ve been waiting—I’ll introduce you to the transmigrator now.”

He opened the door, and a bright light spilled out into the hallway. The glow of a magic artifact inside the room kept it illuminated as though it were still midday.

Occupying two seats set in front of a crackling hearth were a boy and a girl. They both stood at their brother’s arrival. Both of them had beautiful golden tresses that ran down the length of their backs, stopping at their waists.

The first to approach us was the Third Prince, Wald. He was fifteen years old. Were he a commoner, that would have been the bare minimum age for conscription. He sported a slender build and a tender mien that suited his smile perfectly. There was also a fragility about him that made me wonder if he might be too young to be sent off to war, although he was old enough.

But, as Nadar had explained, the Ivory Veil could only be activated by the Tiuccian royal family. Despite his tender years, the young prince must’ve been needed on the battlefield to activate the Veil.

“So you’re Kariya? Very glad to meet you. I am Wald, and this,” he paused to gesture to the girl standing beside him, “is Catharine. She is my twin sister and the First Princess of Tiuccia.”

Catharine was beautiful.

Up until now, I’d seen my fair share of gorgeous people. Most nobles in this world had refined features. Leto had been lovely, and even Nadar, with his scruffy five o’clock shadow and heavy-lidded eyes, had a rugged handsomeness about him. The king and crown prince had been dazzling, and Lucian was charmingly handsome too. As for Wald, I’d consider him to be more on the pretty side.

As far as avatars went, Golden Dawn had been packed with gorgeous men and women. That made sense, honestly—I’m sure anyone would want to make their alter ego attractive.

That was why, whenever I would run into someone stunning, I’d just nod and accept the mild wonderment I had at their beauty.

At least, that was what I’d done until now. I didn’t think I’d ever really grasped what true beauty was until this moment.

She was beautiful.

Catharine stood with a dignified bearing. Her golden hair fell around her in gentle, flowing waves that framed her clear, fair skin. Her vibrant green eyes shone with a hue reminiscent of precious gemstones. Her gaze, fixed directly on me, was unwavering and unyielding.

Faced with such refined beauty, I was never struck with the need to articulate what I was beholding with any kind of qualifier or crassness. I simply, for the first time in my life, understood beyond a doubt that beauty was power.

22. Portals and Regret

Our introduction ended up being just that, in the truest sense of the word. After that, all of the royals began to file out of the room at once. Their destination was the underground teleportation portals.

I’m so sorry for arriving so late.

The sun would be rising in about two hours. Would they be all right with their plans for tomorrow? We’d all pretty much stayed up all night, though I was still feeling fine. Whenever I’d been deep in my crafts, I’d stay up late quite often. Transmigrators had high stamina compared to the average NPC, so I wouldn’t take physical damage by pulling an all-nighter or three.

Anyway, Tachyrinn’s underground was divided into several large rooms. Within each room lay several portals, and there were even smaller portals within them that led to other rooms.

Though this was a sight I was familiar with from the game, I frowned upon seeing it. The cause of my discomfort was obvious—people were not using them.

The only portal room that remained busy with activity was the one that connected Tachyrinn to Altiuccia. Crowds of people came and went from it.

At the very center of the room lay a round plate affixed to the floor that was about ten centimeters thick. This plate served as the portal. Atop its white surface was a veritable mountain of wooden boxes. Both public servants and soldiers were rushing about in preparation to teleport.

What was in those boxes? They were clearly meant to be moved alongside the people. Large amounts of freight were usually transported by way of horse-drawn carriage, as it was cheaper. It only stood to reason that teleportation portals wouldn’t be used in this manner, but they were doing it anyway.

“You seem puzzled,” remarked Lucian, who was standing next to me. The dark-haired prince finished signing a stack of documents and handed them to a waiting official before turning to me. “Is something bothering you?”

I mulled over his question for a moment. “Why aren’t there any other portal users?” I asked.

The prince nodded in understanding. “We’re at war. The portals to other countries have been temporarily sealed off, and even teleporting within Tiuccia has been restricted.” With a pained smile, he explained the other reason. “Tiuccia has very few MP potions in reserve.”

I was stunned.

He continued. “Portals require magic to activate, but unlike transmigrators, the ordinary folk of this world have very little MP. As we’re in the midst of battle, most of our supply has been sent to Croway Plains, where they’re needed—we’ve sent all our best B-tier mages to the battlefield. The remaining C-tier mages keep the portal running on their own MP, but there are only so many times a day they can do that. While I’d also prefer to be able to come to Tachyrinn as needed, I fear that once I return to Altiuccia, such opportunities will be few and far between.”

Still unable to reply, I simply listened in silence.

“You can activate the portals on your own MP, right? If you come to Altiuccia, I’d be glad to welcome you,” Lucian finished.

Sticks and stones might break my bones, but words could really hurt. The psychic damage was painful. If I hadn’t been literally standing right next to a prince at this minute, I would have dropped to the floor and clutched my head in abject regret over my reckless actions.

The MP potions had been put to good use in repelling the monsters from the Black Forest, but just how many had I ended up using? While they’d been putting portals on lockdown in Tachyrinn to conserve potions, I’d been using them like water.

“Your Highness, the preparations are complete,” someone said. A low rumble began to echo from the portal. I could see that several mages were channeling magic into the control panel.

I see. In my old life, players only needed to enter the portal area. Their MP would be automatically deducted so they could transfer. I guessed that, if people didn’t have the requisite amount of MP themselves, they could still use a portal with the support of outside help.

The First Prince gently hugged the golden-haired twins. Though their mothers may have been different, it seemed the siblings were close. Once they exchanged their farewells, the First Prince stepped into the portal where his attendants awaited him.

A bubble of dim light appeared from the lines on the plate and swelled to a dome that covered the portal. The glow intensified, and then everything within it vanished.

“He’s gone back now, eh?” After seeing the First Prince off, Nadar began to give the remaining mages directions. “Begin preparations to activate the sub-portal. It’s already installed in the adjoining room.”

The mages headed to the next room as they pulled MP potions from their robes, draining them to the very last drop.

My gaze met Nadar’s, and he nodded. I followed the group of mages as well. This next room was small, seeming to have been repurposed from its original use as an antechamber.

Furniture meant for receiving guests was piled up in a corner. A pre-assembled sub-portal had been installed atop a carpet that’d been strewn on the floor.

There were two types of teleportation portals. The first were the permanent portals that were installed inside buildings. They were large and safe to use. The other type were pre-assembled sub-portals that were much smaller but could be installed anywhere.

There were no permanent teleportation portals in Croway Plains. That meant that the endpoint for this sub-portal here must’ve been set up somewhere at our encampment.

The mages, having now refreshed their MP, held their hands aloft to channel magic into the control panel.

Princess Catharine balled her hands into tight fists beneath her chest. “I can’t agree with this at all. I ought to be the one to go to Croway,” she muttered. “Nadar. I will go—my magic is far more powerful. I should be able to activate the Ivory Veil much quicker.”

“Dear sister...” The Third Prince gently placed a hand over Catharine’s clenched fists, but her expression remained firmly determined. “We discussed this with our father and our brothers already, did we not? Once the Ivory Veil has been deployed, I’ll return at once. Until then, please wait for me here in Tachyrinn.”

She frowned. “Still...”

“Your Highness. I swear on my life that I will protect His Highness, your brother.” Nadar smiled at the princess, then turned to look at me. “Take care of Her Highness, Kariya.”

Nadar gave me a profoundly grave look—his purple eyes were fixed grimly on me. I nodded, and his intensity gave way to a pleased grin.

“Lord Nadar, Prince Wald. Please, into the portal,” one of the mages called out.

“Right,” said Nadar before speaking to me once more. “I expect you to be a master at horseback riding when I get back, Kariya! Considering the distance between Tachyrinn and our Croway camp, a horse is the easiest way to travel by far. The next time I’m back here, I’ll be testing your riding prowess!”

The sub-portal was just barely large enough for both Nadar and Wald. Its dome of light was so small that they had to crouch to fit inside.

The portal and its occupants—Nadar, down on one knee and waving, and the gently smiling prince—were enveloped in a bubble of light and vanished.

23. I Doubt We’d Dance

Once Nadar and the Third Prince had been seen off to the front lines, our little gathering had come to a close.

Dawn was on the horizon. Although some of the ladies-in-waiting looked sleepy, the princess herself, surrounded by attendants, didn’t show the least bit of exhaustion.

Now that I looked once more, she really was a lovely young woman. Since she had yet to marry, her hair was kept down.

A shining golden tiara rested on top of her head and the lovely golden tresses that flowed down her back. That tiara was another Heraldry, on the same national treasure rarity as the Ivory Veil. It was called the Royal Diadem.

The Royal Diadem had the ability to protect its wearer against impinging effects. It was worth mentioning that regardless of country, members of the royal families could not be appraised or brainwashed.

The princess stood gracefully straight and statuesque, surrounded by her maidservants. She was rather tall—or at least, she was clearly taller than the women around her.

Her dress was refined. Its collar reached up to her jawline, and its sleeves covered her wrists. She didn’t seem to be very well-endowed, although the decorative lace that flowed down from her shoulders over her chest may have been hiding anything that was there. However, she was apparently only fifteen years old, so she had time.

Oh, just to clarify, I happened to notice that purely by accident. I didn’t have any desire to be with her. Actually, it’d be entirely unacceptable, given the difference in our social standings. Besides, she’d be considered a high schooler in my old life—maintaining a relationship with someone like that could turn into a disaster at the blink of an eye.

“Tomorrow...” began Catharine, but then she corrected herself. “Well, I suppose it’s already today, but I’ll rest until the afternoon.”

“Your Highness?” one of the ladies-in-waiting prompted.

“Oh, my apologies, Liese. I’ve gotten ahead of myself—I’ll leave tomorrow’s plans up to you. Please send him to me once you’ve worked out the details with the guards.” Then, the princess called to me. Her voice was a lovely alto. “Sir Kariya?”

“Just Kariya is fine,” I replied. “You needn’t be so polite with me, Your Highness, Princess Catharine.”

She paused momentarily. “Very well. Then you needn’t be so formal either. I’d much rather you simply called me ‘Your Highness’...” Sensing Liese’s displeasure, she briefly turned her attention to her lady-in-waiting. “That’s fine, isn’t it, Liese?”

The princess then continued her conversation with me without waiting for Liese’s response. “Tomorrow, you’ll hear further details of your assignment from Liese. Until then, please feel free to rest.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

A gentle smile graced her lips. A smile from a truly beautiful being was incredibly affecting. A strum ran through the soldiers and courtiers—mostly male—in the face of the princess and her ladies-in-waiting.

The head of the ladies-in-waiting, Liese, scowled at me. The princess herself didn’t seem concerned about it as she took her leave, still surrounded by her attendants.

A silly work-related quip from my previous life flashed through my mind. A job with a gorgeous woman may be heaven, but a job with only gorgeous women is hell.

I was doubtlessly going to have to stay by her side as her bodyguard, which basically meant that I was going into a job where I’d be surrounded by women. An all-women job...but I couldn’t be elated over the lovely ladies. I was overcome by the anxiety that I might not be able to get along well with them in the first place.

As I would find out later, the creeping concern I felt then would turn out to be half right and half wrong.

***

I woke the next morning (well, at noon), feeling briskly refreshed.

Earlier, I had been led to an incredible room situated on the fourth floor of Tachyrinn. It was probably for security reasons. Ordinarily, soldiers were assigned to barracks appropriate to their rank. Back in Ruicerl, since I had been a conscript, my sleeping quarters had been a temporary tent outside the city walls. I hadn’t even been allowed to enter the city proper. During marches, we’d simply slept out in the open.

But here in Tachyrinn, I’d been given a guest room that was likely reserved for visiting nobility. The bed had a feather duvet, and there was a magical artifact to provide lighting. The furniture in the room was lavish, and even the pajamas that had been laid out for me were made of fine silk.

In my past life, I’d used a feather duvet when I slept, and I’d even stayed at some fancy hotels, so none of these things were especially astonishing. However, I had to admit that seeing them made me reflect on the poverty I’d experienced in this life so far. It made me a little emotional.

A change of dress had also been provided for me—the uniform that commissioned officers wore. I guessed that a petty officer wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the princess. Seeing it gave me the impression that I was shooting up the ranks in the military at a breakneck pace, all without much effort on my part. It’d be nice if I were paid a commensurate sum when I retired from the army...

About the time I finished getting cleaned up and dressed, a meal was brought up to my room. I couldn’t believe it—I was getting to eat meat first thing this morning (well, afternoon). This was truly service befitting a general.

To be honest, I’d nearly starved to death countless times as a child after I’d reincarnated into this world. Once I’d grown up and could make use of my knowledge from my previous life, I had become impervious to starvation.

After I finished my repast, one of Liese’s handmaidens came to fetch me. She then led me to a room deep inside the citadel. Awaiting me there was the head lady-in-waiting herself, as well as several high-ranking individuals responsible for security.

“It appears you truly are a transmigrator. It’s quite easy to tell from your composed comportment; a commoner would have withered upon seeing such finely embroidered silks.” Liese, the head lady-in-waiting—an austere woman with wrinkles about her lips and a certain intensity—had figured that out in a single glance.

Silk finery didn’t bother me, but she was fearsome for other reasons. I couldn’t help but stand at attention under her searing gaze as she scrutinized me without reserve. I had the overwhelming impression that this woman was not someone to be angered.

Then, I realized that someone, somewhere, was attempting to appraise me.

“Um,” I began, “NPC appraisals won’t work on me.” I tugged the cuff of my uniform up as I explained why. “I’m wearing things like this as well.”

A wooden bangle reinforced with silver rested around my wrist.

Seeing it, the woman sighed. “If our appraisals don’t work wholesale, that must mean your bangle’s A-rank or higher, doesn’t it? That must make you an A-tier or higher former player who specialized in crafting,” she said. “Would I be correct in presuming that you’re an arms specialist?”

I didn’t confirm or deny her question. Instead, I quietly listened to her with a noncommittal smile. Nadar had told me not to reveal information about myself, after all.

I knew it was a matter of necessity for me to be appraised in a situation like this, but I still felt conflicted. She hadn’t even told me that she’d be doing that. Seriously, why didn’t people just ask? I would’ve been fine with a little “I’d like to appraise you, is that okay?” At least then I could consider the request and decide whether it was acceptable.

“All I’ll say is, please don’t expect too much from me. I’m just a crafter, and as far as my skill with making weapons and armor goes, I’m A-tier. Nothing I make can hold a candle to top combat specialists,” I explained.

“That’s more than good enough for us,” she said. “We only have one request of you—if the need arises, please use Jump to evacuate Her Highness the princess to a safe place.”

I figured that’d be my task.

Jump—the instant teleportation ability available to A-tier players and higher.

Since it was only available at A-tier, it wasn’t an ability that unaugmented NPCs could use. The reason I say “unaugmented” is that equipment that can boost a person’s tier by one level did exist. In Golden Dawn, that meant B-tier NPC mages could be boosted with equipment that would allow them access to A-tier spells.

As a sidenote, that was also the reason Nadar, the Master of Blades, was able to wield an S-rank weapon. Although his own abilities were capped at B-tier since he was an NPC, they could be brought up to a level equivalent to A-tier through the use of equipment. Since weapons and armor could be equipped up to one rank higher than a person’s own tier, that explained how he was able to use the S-ranked Scatterbloom.

But that was all less of a concern in the face of the fact that Scatterbloom was a Heraldry belonging to House Cautley. No one outside of that bloodline could use it anyway.

However...was there no one in Tachyrinn Citadel who could use Jump?

I supposed that people could flee the fortress in an emergency using the underground portals, but getting underground at all could be a problem in itself. It’d be dangerous to go down there if we were under attack.

Though Jump was an easy and convenient method of travel for transmigrators, it was probably considered an incredible, reality-bending ability to NPCs.

“Understood. Then we should have Her Highness get used to Jump immediately.”

My proposal left those gathered here flummoxed.

“Whatever are you talking about? Her Highness’s magical aptitude is C-tier. She is also unlikely to have the requisite amount of MP. She cannot learn it herself.”

“With all due respect, that’s not what I meant,” I said. “You see, there are things that need to be known when it comes to Jumping with another person.”

Yeah. In Golden Dawn, Jump was just a handy way of getting around, but in this world, it needed a little know-how to use safely.

24. Preparing to Jump

According to Lady Liese, Her Highness did not venture outside the walls of Tachyrinn Citadel. She also never descended past the fourth floor, meaning that she didn’t leave the living quarters and go to the main areas of the fortress where the teleportation portals were located.

I was hoping to have our practice sessions in a wide, open space like the inner courtyard, but Liese had been as unyielding as a brick wall when I’d mentioned it. She instructed us to use the halls on the fourth floor instead.

Well, it wasn’t like I couldn’t understand her reasoning. She was probably less concerned about security and more worried about potential scandals involving the princess herself.

Catharine was both exceptionally pretty and unwed. If she were to make even the slightest misstep in front of the wrong audience, they wouldn’t be able to contain the rumors, and they’d explode. That couldn’t be allowed to happen.

But that left the question of how she would be able to practice Jumping.

I doubt she’d be able to grasp the sensation of it without experiencing it herself, but since she couldn’t leave the fourth floor, there was little choice but to simply have her watch a demonstration instead.

When I was in the midst of preparing the demo in a wide hall on the fourth floor, Catharine called out to me.

“A moment, Kariya. I have a request,” she said, stopping me in my tracks. “We have some young mages in training who wish to be able to use Jump in the future. I’d like for them to attend as well, as their observations may aid their studies. Is this quite all right with you?”

The princess, standing tall and dignified with her ladies-in-waiting trailing by her side, was as beautiful as ever.

Of course, the ladies surrounding her were lovely as well, but, despite her young age, the princess’s comportment imparted an exceptionally noticeable aura about her that drew the gaze. Her emerald eyes and unwavering gaze were more breathtaking than the sparkling tiara atop her head.

Honestly, I’d seen eyes like that back in the depths of Gaelius. They’d belonged to a proud, majestic beast that had roamed the savage hinterlands. I could remember how being under its steadfast gaze had moved me.

Sorry to put royalty and beasts on the same level. I just didn’t have any other basis for comparison in this life.

“I’ll pay you, of course,” Catharine continued.

“Your Highness! You mustn’t discuss such things,” Liese protested, interrupting her.

Riding on the coattails of the head lady-in-waiting, I nodded in agreement. “Oh, they can come along if they’d like. I don’t mind at all,” I said. “Now, Your Highness, if you and your retinue could, I’d like you to observe the demonstration by the walls of the hallway across from the window. It will be dangerous to stand along any other wall. And, if they’re okay with watching from back there, any other interested individuals are free to join you.”

“Thank you, Kariya,” said the princess, smiling radiantly. Then, she addressed the guards attending her. “Summon the mages who would like to observe immediately.”

Offering an awkward smile, I approached Liese, who had her fingers pressed to her temples as she sighed. I spoke to her directly, careful to keep my volume low so that I wouldn’t be overheard by anyone nearby.

“I imagine Her Highness must’ve been about to tell me I ought to be paid if I was letting the mages observe, but that’s not something someone of her standing must discuss, is it?” I asked.

Liese looked at me and nodded. “That’s right. She has much to learn.”

“Oh, by the way,” I began as another thought struck me. “Does showcasing abilities and magic really warrant being paid? I’ve lived in the mountains all my life, so I don’t really know much about protocol, but if anyone asked me to teach them something, I’d just do it.”

Surprise was written all over her face. “I’m sorry?”

I see, so people make a business out of it... I guess that means a transmigrator’s abilities are so rare that they’re as valued as any other merchandise or service.

“I don’t belong to the adventurer’s guild,” I said, further clarifying things. “I’ve always lived in the mountains where I was born. So I don’t really know much about common-sense things.”

“I see.” After mentioning that she’d heard as much from Nadar, Liese turned to look straight at me and began to explain. “I’ve no idea how things worked in that ‘game’ of yours in your past life, but in this world, people can learn abilities and magic simply by observing them in use by someone of a higher tier. It can spark inspiration, you see. And even if they don’t outright learn how to do it themselves, it certainly makes things much easier to learn.”

Liese continued. “When you mentioned there were ‘things to be known’ about doing it earlier during the meeting, that’s what you were talking about, yes? The adventurer’s guild frowns on transmigrators freely displaying their abilities. Her Highness was a bit hasty in asking you to do so, but I hope you understand that she was not trying to take advantage of you and your lack of knowledge in any way.”

“Oh... Don’t worry, I didn’t take it that way or anything. Truly, don’t worry,” I hurriedly interrupted Liese in the midst of her apology. “To be honest, I was glad that Her Highness asked me. I’d like to do whatever I can, so I don’t mind doing this showcase. She was perfectly honest with the way she looked right at me and asked for my help, so I’d like to be as helpful as possible.”

I’d always been a pretty resourceful person even before I’d realized I was a transmigrator. There had been people who’d tried to exploit my knowledge, had given me unreasonable orders, or had tried to trick me.

“It’s nice when someone properly asks for help, like the way the princess did. I’ll do whatever I can to help,” I reiterated.

Liese’s intense stare softened when she heard my explanation.

“I understand. Then, Kariya, let me ask you for your assistance as well.”

“Of course. Whatever I can do.”

“Also, please rest assured that we will properly compensate you for your expertise, as Her Highness attempted to mention earlier. We’d really much rather not draw the ire of the adventurer’s guild later on if we fail to pay you, so please accept our offer. Is there anything you need at the moment?”

I thought for a moment in the face of such magnanimity. Would asking for something other than money be all right? If so, then there were some things I wanted...

“Could I have materials to make MP potions?”

Liese looked surprised. “May I ask why?”

“Well, it’s just that I kind of used up a lot of our military stockpile. I was told that it was okay to use them, but I guess I overdid it. I feel pretty bad about it all, so I’d like to supplement our stocks with my own MP potions,” I said.

“I’ll introduce you to the logistics officer later, then. Oh, it appears that everyone’s just about gathered now, and we mustn’t keep Her Highness waiting. Please, begin your demonstration.”

At her prompting, I looked over to the wall I’d indicated to the princess earlier. A throng of observers had gathered there. And at the center of the area by the wall, Catharine sat gracefully in a chair that had been provided for her, with her dress spread out.

Surrounding the princess were her ladies-in-waiting and guards. There were several young men there as well. Given their slight builds and lack of armor, they must’ve been the mages. Oh, and there were some older men as well... Were they all here out of curiosity?

“Your Highness,” I began, “I will now explain certain things that people need to be aware of when Jumping.”

Standing in the center of the great hall, bathed in the expectant gazes of all those gathered there, I bowed to the noble lady before me.

25. Jump, Jump, Jump

Wow, the excitement that filled the room was palpable. No, really. The mages must’ve really wanted to see the demonstration—from what I could tell, their eyes were practically glittering with anticipation.

I addressed the buzzing onlookers. “I’m sure everyone here has heard of the ability called Jump, so I’ll skip the basics and head straight into discussing things to watch out for when Jumping.”

Scanning the crowd, I picked a volunteer. “Er, you there, with the glasses and striped blue robe. Could you come over here? I believe you have a similar physique to Her Highness, so I’d like you to help.”

Since I had a crowd for the demonstration anyway, I decided to have someone play Catharine’s role. The boy pointed at himself as if to ask if I had meant him. When I nodded, he jumped forward with a bright grin.

“The name’s Bondaughn! I’m a C-tier mage, and I’m good at wind magic. I’d be happy to help with your demonstration!” he exclaimed with unbridled excitement.

“Thanks. I’m Kariya. Now, if you could please—”

He interrupted me. “Oh, you don’t have to be so polite around me!”

“All right, then. Could you come here and give me a hug?” I opened my arms wide in welcome and waited for him, but for some reason, he didn’t move.

My request must’ve thrown him for a loop. That was how I could tell he, and probably most of the crowd, didn’t know much about Jumping.

Guess I’ll have to explain it so everyone’s on the same page.

“When you’re Jumping with another person, you need to be touching each other, or it won’t work. Also, Jumping causes a knockback effect upon landing, so for safety’s sake, you should make sure you’re holding on to your partner,” I said before directing my attention back to the boy. “Now, Bondaughn, go ahead and put your arms around me. We’ll Jump at the count of three, okay? Three, two, one—”

I wrapped my arms around him and activated Jump.

In Golden Dawn, Jump was the equivalent of instantaneous teleportation. And that seemed to hold in this world too. We disappeared and instantly reappeared about three meters away from where we’d been standing.

The youth in my arms let out a scream and clung tightly to me in panic. We continued hugging each other as I further explained Jumping.

“And that’s Jump. Did anyone notice that, right after we moved, Bondaughn was hit by recoil and was nearly thrown from me? Most of the recoil will affect the person tagging along on the Jump, rather than the caster. Keep in mind that if you teleport several times in succession, the recoil that anyone coming along for the ride will experience will become increasingly more severe with every Jump. So if you do that, be aware that you risk sending the other person flying.”

I turned my attention to Bondaughn once more. “All right. This time I’m not going to hold on to you. We’ll teleport a bunch of times, so hold on tight so you’re not blown away. Three, two, one—”

Increasing the speed between teleports, I showcased Jumping to the left and right several times over. Every time we moved, I could feel Bondaughn’s grip around me slacken slightly. On the sixth teleport, his arms finally lost their grip, and he let go. His slight frame went flying toward a nearby wall that was clear of people.

I immediately cast an instantaneous cantrip to create a pocket of air around him to cushion the impact—that was made possible by the fact that I’d raised my combat proficiency, which included magic-based attacks, to B-tier. That was the maximum a crafting specialist could do.

Magic was a catalyst for crafting, so I had leveled my aptitude for the elements of fire, water, wind, and earth. In doing so, I had also leveled up light and dark. That makes me sound strong, right?

In reality, it wasn’t really anything to write home about. I didn’t have any combat-related abilities, after all. When it came to fighting, a crafter was more of a jack-of-all-trades...which meant I was exactly master of none.

I teleported over to Bondaughn, who was on the ground, yet to get up. I reached a hand out to him. As I did, I asked, “So, how was it? Any thoughts?”

“Well, um... You smell nice, Kariya,” he replied shyly.

“Oh, that’d be the monster and insect repellent,” I said. “Glad to see you don’t seem to be hurt in any way.”

Helping him to his feet, I took a moment to straighten out his disheveled cloak. I patted him on the back for a job well done.

I turned to Catharine to address her. “I deeply apologize, Your Highness, but if there comes a time when we’ll actually need to Jump together, then please hold on tight. While we don’t need to actually make physical contact—meaning holding each other’s clothing is fine—we won’t be able to Jump together if you’re only holding on to the hem of my cloak. But most importantly, the person traveling with the caster has to be lighter in weight than the caster themselves. For example...” I gestured to a tall soldier. “I don’t think he’d be able to Jump with me, even if he removed his armor.”

A little unexpectedly, that man stepped out of the crowd. “C-Could you show us?” he stammered.

“Oh, sure,” I replied, and he latched on to me. “But uh, oof, you’re holding me a bit too tightly for your armor; it kinda hurts. Could you hold on a little more gently?”

“Remember that you are in the presence of Her Highness!” Lady Liese’s rage came down on us with unbridled fury. The soldier who’d been clinging to me pulled away in an instant and immediately stood ramrod straight at attention. I couldn’t blame him, but I was thankful for the distraction. He’d been crushing me.

Still, I could understand feeling that way under pressure, especially in a situation where we were surrounded by enemies.

“Okay, then here’s a practical demonstration of what I just mentioned. Sorry, sir, but could you hold on to my arm instead of hugging me? There we go. Three, two, one—”

I used Jump.

A murmur ran through the crowd when they saw that I had teleported away, leaving the soldier behind. The onlookers must’ve really taken my warning to heart that they couldn’t Jump with anyone larger than them.

“Next, I’ll Jump with you, sir,” I said, placing my hand on the shoulder of a slim, elderly mage standing nearby. “We’ll be teleporting next to the soldier. Three, two, one—”

I teleported back to the tall man—this time, the mage came with me.

I began to explain what had happened. “Now, the reason this gentleman wasn’t blown away, despite him not holding on to me, was because I cushioned him from the force with wind magic. Casting a spell and Jumping at the same time uses a lot of MP, so doing this several times in succession will put a lot of strain on your body.”

Looking at the two standing next to me, I addressed the soldier. “This time, please hold on to this gentleman’s arm. We’ll be demonstrating a case where an enemy might be trying to catch hold of Her Highness and restrain her. Now, three, two, one—”

I clapped a hand on the elderly man’s shoulder once more and, focusing on bringing only him with me as I teleported, I Jumped several meters to the side.

Again, the soldier had been left behind. The mage, on the other hand, leaned in close in excitement and stared at me with delight in his eyes.

“How wonderful!” he said, still riding the high from his Jump. “That was simply excellent, my good man!”

“Glad to see you’re unharmed.” I smiled at the old man, then I touched the bangle sitting around my wrist. Pressing down on an inlaid gem that doubled as decorative ornamentation, I absorbed the MP that had been sealed inside it to replenish my own.

“Is that a recovery accessory?” asked the mage. “Very interesting! You’ve devised it so that spells or healing items sealed in the gems beforehand can be used later, correct? That’s quite remarkable!”

“Sir,” Lady Liese said tersely, “please keep in mind that we are not conducting a lecture for mages right now.”

The elderly mage trembled under the darkly low undercurrents of her tone and returned to where he’d originally been standing. There was no doubt in my mind that Liese was the most powerful person in all of Tachyrinn Citadel.

I addressed the audience once more. “To use Jump, you’ll need a lot of MP as well as a proficiency-boosting item that can push you to B-tier. As long as you’re at B-tier, you can use Jump, even if you don’t specialize in magic. It’s a really handy ability to have, and it can be used for a lot of different things, like helping someone in a tight spot. You could also use it to try stealing an enemy’s weapon and then teleport away. Just keep in mind one last, crucially important thing when Jumping, however.”

I paused there for effect, ensuring the crowd was listening carefully.

“You must only Jump to places you can see,” I declared, putting emphasis on “must.”

“But isn’t that a necessary consideration in the first place? I recall that a person can’t Jump to a location unless they can see it,” Catharine asked thoughtfully.

I shook my head. “To be more precise, you can technically teleport anywhere you like—even somewhere you’ve only seen once before—as long as you can visualize it in your mind. But the risks are far too high to do that. Have you ever heard warnings like you can’t Jump at night, or you can’t Jump long distances, or even that you can’t Jump to the other side of a wall?” I asked.

“There are two reasons for this. The first is distance: The farther you travel, the more MP you’ll use up. A person can only travel so far with the amount of MP they have. An SSS-tier transmigrator who specializes in magic would likely be able to Jump anywhere they want within the Central Nations...but it’s unlikely that they would, even if they could. And that is because of the second reason people warn against Jumping to places you can’t see: You can’t ensure that the endpoint of your Jump is clear of any obstructions.”

I signaled to the ladies-in-waiting, and they brought two very large cushions over to me—we’d arranged this beforehand. Taking the pillows into my arms, I placed one at my feet while I supported the other with my hands. It was large enough to reach the ground.

“If you Jump without first checking that there’s nothing obstructing your endpoint, this is what happens.”

Taking a few steps back, I made a short Jump to the spot where I had just been standing.

A shocked gasp ran through the onlookers.

The cushion that I had been holding almost appeared like it had been dragged along the ground. It was now fused with the cushion I had left lying on the floor.

“Had this been a person, this would undoubtedly hurt. If you ended up stuck in a wall or something after Jumping, I guarantee you’d die immediately. In my past life, people were prevented from Jumping at all if there was an obstruction at the teleport endpoint, but there’s no such restriction in this world—and this is what can happen,” I explained.

“Unlike the game from my old life, this is a living, breathing world with insects, birds, and animals. Even if you were to scope out a place before teleporting, you’d still be gambling on whether there’s something there or not when you make the journey later. That’s why I only Jump to locations that I can see.”

I paused to let the weight of my words settle in and then followed that up with a request. “There are a few places within Tachyrinn that I plan to use as teleport endpoints. I’ll mark them off, so make sure they remain clear of any objects. Don’t ever go into those spots.”

With that, my Jump demonstration came to a close.

26. Hired Services

Once my showcase ended, the crowd began to disperse from the hall. As the mages started to file out, their faces still bright with excitement, I picked out the youth who had helped me with the demonstration earlier.

“Bondaughn, do you have a minute?”

“Oh, Sir Kariya!” he exclaimed.

“You can drop the ‘sir,’” I replied. “Anyway, earlier when I enveloped you with a pocket of wind magic, I noticed your affinity for wind is on the low side. Have you ever had a proper analysis of your proficiencies to see what elements you’re best suited for?” I asked.

His face fell. “No... Tiuccia doesn’t have anyone capable of doing high-level appraisals, after all. My teacher at the academy was versed in wind magic, so I tried to copy him.”

“I knew it. Well, would you like me to appraise you? You’re still young, so even if you switched your elemental specialization now, I’m sure you’d be able to master it.”

“Could you really?! P-Please, if you could!” His voice was filled with breathless excitement.

I nodded and walked over to some chairs that had been neatly returned to their places by the wall. Pulling two out and arranging them so that they sat facing each other, I gestured for him to sit.

“Okay, sit in front of me. I can cast Appraisal even without the use of an artifact, but I might as well show you how it’s done with an Appraisal Orb.”

Dropping myself into the other chair, I focused on accessing my Pocket Dimension with my left hand. From among the things I had stored inside it, I selected an A-rank Appraisal Orb and focused on pulling it out. A weight settled in my open hand—a crystal ball the size of a baseball had materialized in my palm.

Man, having a Pocket Dimension was such a cheat-level convenience. When I’d been playing the game, I hadn’t thought much of it, but now that it was a real and normal part of my life, I couldn’t think of anything more convenient. While I had interacted with my inventory with my mouse in Golden Dawn, I could now manipulate it simply through visualization in this world I’d reincarnated into.

Well, it wasn’t as though there was a nice pop-up window floating in midair for me to interact with anyway. I just used my convenient interdimensional storage with vague intuition. Besides, it wasn’t as though I could visually check the contents of my Pocket Dimension, although in retrospect, I wasn’t too sure how I could to use it so fluidly and without much confusion when I couldn’t see it...

As an aside, while I had lost everything inside my character’s Pocket Dimension after I died, I still had access to the inventory expansion space I’d paid for with real money. Thanks to the financial power of a working adult, my inventory space had been boosted to the maximum allowed. I have to say that it’d been well worth the investment. I still had some empty space even now, which I wanted to fill up with more of my self-crafted items. But never mind that for now.

Holding the Appraisal Orb in both hands as if I were scooping up water, I cradled it in my lap and directed Bondaughn to place both of his hands on top of it. The crystal ball was now entirely enveloped by our four hands.

“Now, try to keep your mental state open to being examined. Focus on avoiding any feelings of resistance. If you start resisting, it’ll be harder for me to get a good reading.”

Closing my eyes, I sifted through the information that flowed into my mind.

“Hmm... Yeah, your affinity with wind is...D-tier, although your learned knowledge of it is C-tier. You really worked hard to master it, huh? At any rate, your affinity with earth is the highest—it’s at B-tier. Water’s at C-tier, followed by fire and light at D-tier. Dark is last at E-tier. That’s how your elemental affinities look, so I suggest that you focus on earth as your main element and supplement it with water and wind,” I explained.

Bondaughn brightened up with my assessment. “Thank you so much!”

As a little bonus, I gave him an appraisal of his weapon affinity. “Oh, by the way, your affinity with wands and other short rods is at C-tier, so those should work as magic catalysts for you. It’d be a good idea to work on mastering those as well.”

Opening my eyes, I noticed that, for some reason, a line of mages had begun to assemble just behind Bondaughn. Their eyes glittered with excitement, just as Bondaughn’s had.

Liese, who apparently had been watching from nearby, called to me. Her smile sat lopsided on her face as if she weren’t sure of what she wanted to say. “Since we’ve so many visitors gathered here now, shall we have everyone appraised?” she asked. “Not just the mages, but all the soldiers and attendants, if you don’t mind.”

All the people in the vicinity who had yet to leave the room beamed with happiness as they witnessed the conversation unfolding between me and Liese.

“Would you be able to do this for us?” she asked openly.

I smiled back and nodded. “Since Her Highness is protected by her tiara, I can’t appraise her, but anyone else should be fine. I’ll start by taking a look at the mages and soldiers still here in this room. Once I finish with them, perhaps we could have Her Highness’s attendants appraised at another location? I can check their affinity for cooking, sewing, and the like.”

Liese considered this for a moment and nodded. “Very well, I’ll see to arranging a suitable place as you’ve requested.”

Now that I had obtained permission from the most powerful person in Tachyrinn Citadel, I set about appraising people with renewed vigor.

Time passed us by, and eventually, I was reaching the end of all of the attendant appraisals. The location Liese had arranged for our use was, for some reason, a corner of the study (or maybe the office?) used by Princess Catharine.

As I watched the princess from the side, I mused that she was certainly a hard worker. I had thought an unwed princess would be purely engaged in applying her skills to domestic tasks like embroidery and etiquette instead—things that would make her as wondrous a lady as possible.

How wrong I was. I apologize now for the rude assumption.

Catharine was carefully reading through documents that soldiers had brought to sign off on. They must’ve been things that required the arbitration of the royal family. Occasionally, she would find fault with a document and require that it be redone.

She worked efficiently with the advisors who attended her and considered their opinions as she deliberated over the papers. I had the distinct impression that she would make a very good businesswoman.

While Tachyrinn’s main function had been to act as a teleportation station, it was now also serving as a major supply depot for our troops at Croway Plains. Being a logistical base of operations for the flow of personnel and supplies, there must’ve been a mountain of work that needed to be sorted through and dealt with.

And I, sharing the same space as this hardworking princess, had finally finished appraising the last lady-in-waiting. She bowed her head in happy deference to me and took her leave. Others left as well, taking assessed documents with them.

The only people remaining in the room with me were Liese and Her Highness. Well, them and an older gentleman who exuded the aura of someone eminently important. He sported a gray handlebar mustache that suited his mien perfectly and wore military dress.

“Kariya, allow me to introduce you to this gentleman,” said Liese. “This is General Orlin, the commander of Tachyrinn Citadel.”

“Dies Orlin, at your service.”

I introduced myself as well. “I’m Kariya of Gaelius, a transmigrator.” I ended up naming myself with my place of birth here since I had no surname.

Orlin nodded with a grave hum of approval. “I’ve heard from Cautley that you possess the Appraisal ability. We hope you’ll put it to great use.”

“Of course,” I replied. “I’ve heard from him as well. My job is to evacuate Her Highness in an emergency and use Appraisal to ensure that no spies from Khrasiel have infiltrated Tachyrinn, correct?”

For some reason, General Orlin and Lady Liese exchanged glances.

Prince Catharine, who was seated between them, addressed me. “And how exactly will you be performing those duties, Kariya?”

“Well, just now I’ve appraised all of the mages, soldiers, and ladies-in-waiting here and assessed their abilities. There were no individuals from foreign nations among them.”

She was astonished. “You even checked their affiliated nation as you appraised them...” she remarked.

“As for assessing the rest of the people in the citadel, it’d take far too long for me to appraise them all on my own, so I’ll give you several A-rank Appraisal Orbs,” I said. “Could you use them to assist with the checks? People should be jumping at the opportunity to have their own aptitudes and proficiencies appraised, so they should willingly collaborate with our investigation.”

“Ah,” said Orlin. “So that’s your plan.”

Liese didn’t seem as convinced. “And if any should refuse to be appraised?”

I responded to the head lady-in-waiting’s concerns without missing a beat. “Then it’s easy to conclude that person’s an enemy spy, or someone who’s otherwise a criminal. Seeing as people here haven’t received B-tier appraisals—or even any of a lesser tier—they should be jumping at the chance to receive an A-tier appraisal free of charge,” I explained. “If we set up a partition to offer some measure of privacy during appraisals, each one will be anonymous. People can rest assured that their own assessments will be entirely private and won’t be known to strangers. With such a tempting arrangement, who wouldn’t want to get one?”

Of course, we’d secretly monitor who was being appraised from an adjoining chamber.

“That’s true. There’s quite a large difference between an A-tier appraisal or higher compared to one that’s B-tier or below. If people were offered an opportunity to discover their latent aptitudes without any apparent drawback...” Liese mused.

“The appraisal will work even if the target is wearing an artifact that grants them protection,” I told her. “The Appraisal Orb is A-rank, and NPCs—uh, that is, average people here—are capped at B-tier. Being of a higher rank, the Appraisal Orb’s effects can’t be blocked by any lower-ranked equipment.”

“Even if the target were using an A-rank artifact to block being investigated, they’d still reveal themselves as someone suspicious—anyone appraising them would notice the block since the Appraisal Orb and the target’s equipment would be the same rank. If they refuse to remove their equipment and accessories when asked, you’ll know they’re a spy.”

“But Kariya, these are A-rank Appraisal Orbs. I doubt there’s a single person in Tachyrinn capable of using them,” Her Highness remarked.

The highest tier of anyone remaining in the fortress was only C-tier.

I laughed in response and explained that, even so, there would be no issue with this plan. “I’ve also made equipment that can boost a person’s proficiencies by one tier, so I’ll give these to you along with the Appraisal Orbs. If someone is bumped up to be on par with B-tier, then they’ll be able to use an A-rank item, since it’d be just a single level above their own.”

“You can even create proficiency-boosting items?!” exclaimed Orlin. “Th-Then—”

“General Orlin!” Catharine exclaimed. “He’s offering these items out of his own goodwill. I understand your concern over the poor state of our supplies, but as a member of the royal family, I cannot permit the abuse of a transmigrator’s abilities.”

“Your Highness,” Liese interrupted.

Noticing that I’d been startled by Orlin’s sudden outburst, the princess had immediately stopped him from pressing any further, which prompted Liese to intercede immediately. Her voice was drawn low and hard in warning.

Man, Liese’s strict ladies’ etiquette training must be brutal.

Prompted by her attendant, the princess cleared her throat and corrected herself. “I know, Liese,” she said, then addressed me and Orlin. “I fear I may have been too harsh, Orlin, but please consider the crown’s feelings on the matter. And Kariya, please rest assured that we will not impose our will unilaterally; you will not be forced into anything you don’t desire to do. We’ll gladly accept the favor you’ve offered us.”

“All right,” I said after digesting her comment. But their reactions had all been strange. It felt as though they were walking on eggshells around me—or more precisely, around transmigrators.

Why?

They had treated me very courteously, but they seemed...afraid? Maybe there was another transmigrator in Tiuccia who would lash out whenever they were angered.

Feeling a bit mystified, I handed my Appraisal Orbs and some proficiency-boosting accessories to Orlin. There were way too many people in Tachyrinn for me to appraise all of them alone.

Take care of the rest of them, won’t you?

27. Mass Production

“More empty bottles have arrived.”

“Kariya, sir, if you could handle making MP potions...”

“The light orbs need to be refilled soon too.”

I nodded to the voices calling to me and started on their requests by tossing ingredients for MP potions into a large pot.

The rest of the crafting happened automatically as my body moved instinctually. I stirred the pot with a wooden ladle and added additional ingredients at just the right time. Then the contents of the pot began to glow and the MP potions were done.

I had thought that crafting in this world naturally functioned on some sort of mysterious system based on how it had worked in Golden Dawn, but considering the nonchalance of the NPCs around me, it seemed to be an entirely unremarkable sight. My misgivings weren’t entirely unfounded, however. I realized the reason for my qualms when, for the first time ever, I watched other crafters work up close.

When I made things, my processing time for preparatory steps was much shorter than theirs due to the abilities and proficiency tiers I had inherited from my old life. The speed at which I completed crafts had gotten much faster, as well.

Apparently, that was the reason I could make stuff in no time at all—as if by magic. I could create low-ranking things almost instantaneously. I’d gotten so used to this happening that I had considered it normal.

NPCs, on the other hand, had to craft things manually by hand and without any of the shortcuts that were available to me.

Now that I thought about it, I’d had to grind ingredients with a mortar and pestle at one point in the game too, back when I’d still been a low-tier crafter. I’d just about forgotten what it’d been like back in my old life.

The day after my Jump demonstration, I found myself crammed into the corner of the princess’s office. As her designated Jump specialist and guard, I needed to remain by her side at all times in case of an emergency.

During the day, I remained on standby at a distance within her sight at all times. And at night, I was stationed where I could leap to the door of her bedroom if needed.

Her Highness always worked in her office on the fourth floor. She rarely strayed from her routine of going between her fifth-floor bedroom and fourth-floor office. Sometimes she would go down to the underground teleportation portals, but that was the extent of the changes to her schedule.

Tachyrinn’s upper levels were heavily fortified, so there was no chance that bandits could ever manage to make their way up there. In other words, as a person whose only role was to Jump, I had absolutely nothing to do.

But since there was always the risk of an emergency, I couldn’t leave my post. That being the case, I borrowed a corner of Catharine’s office and started crafting MP potions.

Making the liquid portion of the potion itself was quick and simple due to my time-cutting crafting abilities, but pouring the completed mixture into tiny bottles took a fair amount of time. Her Highness sent her attendants over to help me do that. Unlike at the palace, there apparently wasn’t much work for them to do in the fortress, so the bored attendants happily offered to help. With the extra hands, crafting MP potions became much more efficient.

Now that I had some spare time, I decided to try teaching some things to a few attendants who had some crafting abilities. The ladies improved by leaps and bounds at an astonishing rate. With the right teacher, they’d have an easier time learning new abilities as well. This became especially obvious when NPCs teamed up with players—me, in this case.

My experience in Golden Dawn had been the other way around. If a player wanted to learn an ability or skill, they’d first apprentice under an NPC known as a master crafter. By undertaking quests to learn the foundations of their craft under that NPC, they’d learn abilities and skills much faster than if they’d tried to learn them on their own or from another player.

Though our roles were swapped, the same thing seemed to be happening now. Since they were receiving instruction from me, a person whose proficiency was higher than their own, they were learning new abilities at a lightning-fast pace.

After dinner, I ended up tutoring the mages in magic as well. Since I was a crafter, my magical aptitude remained capped at B-tier, but my help seemed plenty appealing to the NPCs anyway.

As for Bondaughn, his proficiency in earth magic—something he was naturally adept at—had already skyrocketed to B-tier.

That was fast. Too fast. He must’ve been naturally talented from the get-go, or maybe his exponential growth was owed to learning from a transmigrator. But even if his proficiency rating went up, he still needed practical experience to master it, and that was something he would have to gain on his own.

Seated around a long desk in the princess’s office, the attendants were hard at work. Those with lower MP were in charge of simple tasks such as filling bottles with the potion concoction, replenishing materials that had run out, and packing away the finished potions.

Since they were all sitting near enough to one another that observing each other’s work was a simple task for them, sometimes they’d suddenly experience bursts of growth. The attendants were all happy to work diligently at their assigned jobs.

Those with higher MP capacities were responsible for charging light orbs with their own MP. Light orbs were basically rechargeable batteries, but unlike potions, they were capable of restoring your MP without the side effect of causing nausea.

Since they could be recharged and reused endlessly, they were ordinarily quite expensive to buy, which was why they typically weren’t used by players. At least, not until after the player had improved their proficiency to a high level.

Light orbs were very valuable items. That’s right—items. As an S-tier crafter who specialized in making items, I could make them as long as I had the materials. They required expensive materials to create, but the Tiuccian royal family provided me with generous amounts of them without a single shred of hesitation.

So, I was responsible for manufacturing these light orbs. As I made them, I passed them off to the ladies-in-waiting who sat at the ready. When an attendant received one, she would wrap both of her hands around the stone orb—they were no larger than a thumbnail—and fill it with MP. Then, the once-dark stone would begin to glow ever so faintly.

The MP in these orbs would dissipate over time. At this size, they could be expected to only last about two weeks. But since they were being sent to the front lines, they’d see immediate use.

While light orbs meant to be used by top-end players were time- and labor-intensive works of art, the ones for NPC use were much simpler to make. I’d divided up our individual roles for efficiency, so we were essentially able to mass-produce them while avoiding giving any one person too much work.

“If you’re feeling tired, go ahead and take a break,” I said to the women.

They were still fervently working away on their tasks and responded to my kindness with dazzling smiles.

“We’re still doing all right, but thank you, sir,” replied one.

“Though we’re not fighting at the front lines, we’re happy to do whatever we can to help those who are—we’ve all come to the battlefield, after all,” said another.

“Our MP capacity expands when we use up our MP like this too. We don’t get many opportunities to expend MP during our usual affairs, so this is a good training opportunity.”

The women responded to me cheerfully, but suddenly, all of them fell silent.

I followed their gazes. There, Princess Catharine sat at her desk, peeking at us with undisguised curiosity.

When did she arrive?

I had noticed that she’d been keenly interested in watching the ladies work here and there. Even when she was deeply preoccupied with signing documents, she’d cast a glance toward us every so often.

I looked around the room. Lady Liese, who was ordinarily inseparable from the princess, was nowhere to be found. Perhaps Catharine had taken the opportunity to come here because her chaperone had stepped away for a moment.

Not knowing what to say, I stayed silent.

After a short while, she finally called out to me. “Kariya, I’d like to help as well.”

“Your Highness?” I replied uncertainly.

“Oh, I’d just like to train a bit,” she said. “I’ve not been allowed into the courtyard even once since coming here. I know I can’t practice my swordsmanship, but that being the case, I’d at least like to improve my magic. I believe I should be able to handle my paperwork and help create light orbs at the same time.”

I briefly considered her request. “All right. Channeling MP into the orbs shouldn’t take a toll on you, and we’re in a situation where I’d gladly welcome another pair of helping hands. Thank you for your gracious offer.”

Upon hearing my reply, the beautiful young woman smiled happily. It was a shy, bashful sort of smile.

The ladies gasped quietly upon seeing the glow of their princess’s beauty once more. Unaware of the admiring gazes of her ladies-in-waiting, Her Highness happily filled a container with empty light orbs and returned to her seat with it.

She’s really cute...but wow, I had no idea the women of the royal family trained in swordsmanship as well. That’s incredible.

Later, the head lady returned to find her charge clutching a light orb. Lady Liese scowled at me but said nothing. Thank goodness.

28. From Guild Headquarters

My day at Tachyrinn began with collecting the finished crafts made the day before.

The ladies-in-waiting worked to make a variety of restoratives whenever they had time to spare. But in truth, we were also making other things besides restoratives.

There was a team of mages responsible for creating magic-related consumables. There was another group of maids and servants who focused on crafting low-tier materials to ensure the necessary constituents for higher-tier crafts would always be available for use. And yet another team made up of soldiers was responsible for filling light orbs with their spare, unused MP while they engaged in their regular duties. Princess Catharine had recently joined that group as well.

In all, Tachyrinn Citadel had become a facility of mass production.

I had also noticed several fresh faces among the crowd as of late. Apparently, they were hopeful personnel, spearheaded by mages, who had been sent here via a teleportation portal from the royal castle. Their goal was to observe my work from up close and thereby learn new abilities.

But...did they really have the spare MP potions to use on activating the teleportation portal? If so, that was good, I guessed.

Studying under a transmigrator could only provide a spark of inspiration. Actually developing and growing abilities was still up to the individual and the amount of effort they put into learning.

In my old life, I had also studied under an NPC mentor in the same fashion, so I was happy to pay it forward now.

Elsewhere, the conflict at Croway Plains continued unabated. Over a month had passed since open combat had begun.

***

“All right! That’s all of them.”

I puffed out my chest to commemorate a job well done—I’d just loaded the last wooden crate from my Pocket Dimension onto the wagon.

Man, this makes moving cargo such a breeze.

By storing everything in my Pocket Dimension, I could transfer heavy items from one place to another without doing any of the lifting. All I had to do was simply pull it out when I arrived at the drop-off point. What ordinarily would have required intensive labor from several soldiers could be handled by me casually strolling over to the carriage.

“Thank you, sir!”

“We appreciate the help.”

The two knights who’d been assigned to be my guards offered words of appreciation from behind me as they watched me deliver the cargo.

When I’d first arrived at Tachyrinn, I’d constantly been accosted whenever I went for a walk alone. But now, as a known transmigrator, I was getting the VIP treatment.

Maybe it’d been on account of the fact that I would walk around in my usual uniform. I didn’t have much of a choice; even though I had to learn horseback riding, I didn’t own any proper riding attire.

Everything about me screamed “mountain man from the middle of nowhere.” For a while, people had constantly harassed me, looking to pick a fight. On a few occasions, I’d even been in real danger of being dragged off to the guardhouse.

Liese, of course, had immediately noticed what was going on and had arranged some guards for me. The harassment had stopped after that, and I was able to acquire some horseback riding skills without much further ado.

But since people were still concerned for my welfare, two soldiers would still accompany me whenever I ventured down to the third floor or below. They served as both my guards and guides.

At any rate, there was still time before the supply corps would set off for Croway, so I called out to a coachman with whom I’d become acquainted.

“How’ve things been looking out there these past few days?” I asked.

Rather than the coachman, a soldier who worked under Nadar’s command explained the current state of affairs to me with friendly optimism. “Well, at one point, we’d been put on the back foot. But thanks to the fresh supplies making it over there, we’ve managed to start fighting back.”

“So we’re at a standstill, huh?” I mused.

“The Ivory Veil has yet to be installed—it seems like the enemy’s attacks have been too severe for us to finish. There’ve been a lot of casualties among the mages.”

“But once Raghion’s troops make it to Croway, we’ll be able to turn things around,” the older, more easygoing of the two knights accompanying me added. “They still haven’t arrived, though...”

The younger of the two knights raised his voice in irritation. “What is the Fourth Prince even doing? Has he really petitioned Raghion for their assistance properly? Why was he even sent to the Empire if he can’t even do that?”

The elder knight must’ve noticed my eyes blown wide in surprise at the undisguised criticism of a direct member of the royal family. He began to explain some things to me with a gentle but mirthless smile on his face.

Apparently, House Tiuccia had yet another prince who was younger than the Third Prince. His name was Erinor, and he was twelve years old. He’d been sent abroad to the Raghion Empire for his studies at the tender age of six.

“Well, he’s not much more than a hostage with a big price tag to them,” the older knight began. “It’s nothing new for a nation seeking protection from the Empire to send a royal with little claim to the throne to them under the pretext of education.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice. “Prince Erinor’s still young, so I doubt he has the verbal acuity to compel others to action. I think it’s more likely that Raghion’s taking advantage of us in this situation. They’re a big ol’ empire, after all, and after what happened six years ago... Ah, never mind.”

He cut himself off mid-explanation, dropping the subject completely. He seemed unwilling to continue the discussion.

The coachman shouted that the service corps’ convoy was about to depart, so we stepped away from the wagon and wished them a safe journey.

At the signal, the horse-drawn wagons loaded with precious cargo began to set out from Tachyrinn. Once they passed through the surrounding forest, they would emerge onto a straight road that led directly to Croway. Given that they’d be traversing an area behind our main forces, they weren’t likely to be attacked on the road, but I couldn’t help but pray that they’d arrive safely.

If I had to venture a guess, the total burden they were transporting all at once was probably worth over a hundred million yen. The thought of all our supplies being seized by the enemy was terrifying.

Next time, I think I’ll rig the crates to explode if they’re stolen... Yeah, I’ll definitely do that.

After seeing the service corps off as they headed to Croway, I returned to my post in the fourth-floor office. Thanking the two knights, I parted ways with them. Just as I was looking around the office to see if the princess was still occupying it, an attendant came to fetch me.

As directed, I headed up to a guest room on the fifth floor. There, Princess Catharine was seated on a sofa. Lady Liese and General Orlin, with his handlebar mustache, stood to either side of her.

All of the most important people in Tachyrinn were assembled here.

At their urging, I sat on the sofa facing the princess.

“Kariya, the adventurer’s guild headquarters in Raghion has contacted us. They will be sending transmigrators from the Empire to see you,” said Liese.

“Transmigrators?” I repeated.

“Yes,” she reaffirmed with a nod. The look on her face was grim.

Now that I looked at the others, the princess and the general also seemed to be quite tense. While I often admired how the lovely, fair princess maintained her regal bearing, her back seemed to be so stiff right now that it was causing her pain.

After a moment of silence, I tested the waters. “Is there an issue with them visiting?”

“At present, the adventurer’s guild in Tiuccia is essentially not operating—it’s been overrun with spies from Khrasiel. You still haven’t officially registered yourself as a transmigrator with the guild, correct? I believe that will be the pretense under which they’re coming.”

“What’s their real reason for visiting?” I asked.

“More likely than not to remove you from Tachyrinn, lad. The adventurer’s guild in Raghion...” Orlin trailed off, mulling over his words. “Well, it has been gathering talented transmigrators, you see.”

So that’s why they’re so tense. The three of them are probably afraid I’ll leave.

Given that we were in the midst of war, they were likely considering the circumstances they’d be in if they lost even a single high-tier craftsman.

“Could we not just tell them we’re too busy to meet and decline their visit?” I ventured.

“As a nation, we must show that we have every intention and desire of meeting with them, and that you, too, are willing to engage with the guild,” Princess Catharine explained. “We must avoid creating a situation that might be misinterpreted as Tiuccia interceding on your behalf and preventing you from contacting them.” Her voice was quiet, and she couldn’t shield her nervousness. “If you’d like to go with them, we won’t stop you. You’d be able to live a much safer life under the protection of the empire. But, if you—”

I raised a hand to interrupt. It was patently obvious that she was about to say something to try to keep me from leaving, but I didn’t want her to have to debase herself and her noble comportment by begging me.

“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to reassure her. “I promised Nadar I’d protect you here in Tachyrinn.”

I offered her a bright smile to assuage her fears and continued speaking in encouragement.

“I am your guard. I currently have no intention of abandoning my role either.” I looked at Liese next—I needed more information. “Lady Liese, will the transmigrators be visiting as members of the adventurer’s guild? Or are they to be treated as representatives of Raghion instead?”

“The adventurer’s guild,” Liese clarified.

“All right, understood,” I said. “I’ll meet with the transmigrators. Sorry, but I’d like Her Highness to attend the meeting as well. You’re welcome to join us too, Lady Liese, as are any of the ladies-in-waiting. I’d like our visitors to understand that I cannot be separated from Her Highness as her guard.”

“Very well. We’ll use Her Highness’s private chambers for the meeting. This will send them the message that we, the crown, fully trust you, Kariya.”

Uh, is that really okay?

The princess is still an unmarried maiden, and I’m a man! Surely I’m not allowed in her personal space like that... Oh, but I guess it’d be fine. All her handmaidens will be there too.

29. Bam, Bing, Boom

As Liese had suggested, we were now awaiting our guests in Princess Catharine’s private chambers. Despite my saying that, we weren’t in her bedchambers, of course. Honestly, it wasn’t what I’d call a personal room either.

We weren’t in the palace, after all. This was Tachyrinn Citadel.

While the furnishings here were fairly luxurious for being in a fortress, the room itself was probably meant to be nothing more than a guest space for visiting nobility. The only thing that showed this room was a space for royalty was a tapestry that adorned the wall. Embroidered into it was a sword and a starry veil—Tiuccia’s coat of arms.

Surrounded by her attendants, Catharine was seated near a window. She was busy doing some embroidery and handling the needle somewhat clumsily. How cute.

Even though she gave the strong impression that she was a lovely woman who was capable of doing anything, I guess she still had things that she wasn’t too good at. I smiled at the thought as I watched over her, but before long, the voice of a soldier announced that our guests had arrived.

When our transmigrator visitors were shown into our room, I immediately regretted having the princess (and all of her attendants) here.

Bam, bing, boom—a bombastic bod entered the room.

A pair of transmigrators had come—one male and the other female.

The young man wore black-rimmed glasses and gave the impression that he often did desk work. He didn’t seem to be a combat specialist, but he didn’t look like he was a crafter either. But I guessed there had been NPCs in the guild who had given off a similar vibe in Golden Dawn. He must’ve been someone who worked at the adventurer’s guild headquarters in Raghion. He was carrying something that looked like a briefcase anyway.

The woman, on the other hand, was more of a concern.

She wore her fiery red hair in pigtails and had a rather youthful, cherubic mien. But despite how innocent-looking her face was, everything below the neck was off the charts. The woman had a dynamite body with a perfect hourglass figure. Like I said: bam, bing, boom—a bombastic bod.

But what really set off her voluptuous figure was her armor. She was wearing a piece that had achieved notoriety among Golden Dawn’s playerbase—a bikini-style top that was just two cups held together by a string. Despite its flamboyant, revealing appearance, that piece of A-rank metal armor actually gave its wearer a decent defense boost. It’d been designed to stay on even during the fiercest combat, so there was no fear of an accidental nip slip.

Mm-hmm, yeah, it’s not a bad piece of equipment as far as performance goes. But for anyone who’s not a transmigrator, it might be a little too titillating.

Just as it’d been in game, the NPCs in this world—or, in other words, its native inhabitants—tended to prefer clothing that covered the skin. Even the princess and her attendants wore dresses with high collars and long ruffles at the wrists that hid even the backs of their hands. I snuck a quick glance at them now—the ring of women were blushing furiously. The princess was at the center of the group with her gaze averted downward to her own chest.

It’s okay. You still haven’t hit your growth spurt...probably.

“Hello!” the bikini-clad woman began. “You’re the player who was found in Tiuccia, right? I’m so happy to meet another one of us. The name’s Iluma. I’m an A-tier metalsmith! And this here is Dydeau. He’s a non-specialist D-tier player.”

Oh. Now that she mentioned it, I recalled a certain playstyle that some people enjoyed in Golden Dawn. While most players chose to specialize in crafting or combat to learn associated abilities, some chose purely to live a new life in the world of the MMO. Those players decided not to select a specialization and stuck with NPC-like stats, living easy in the virtual world.

Dydeau was one such player. Unfortunately, I figured that meant he might be struggling now in this world he’d been reincarnated into, seeing as this was a place where high attributes and abilities were as real as the air we breathed.

***

“I haven’t had things as hard as you have, Kariya,” Dydeau said. “I was born in Raghion, so the moment I realized I was a transmigrator, I was taken in by the adventurer’s guild. You, on the other hand, were reincarnated into the Gaelius Mountains of all places. That’s the most difficult area to survive in among the Central Nations, you know? And on top of that, you lost your family at such a young age; you must’ve suffered so much. But you can finally relax now. It took us a while to get here, but the guild will be your new family from now on—and we’ll protect you.”

Iluma nodded in agreement. “That’s right! We have two SSS-tier combat specialists at headquarters right now! It’s incredible! You’re...an A-tier craftsman, right? Well, you don’t have to worry about the war anymore. Crafters shouldn’t have to go to dangerous places like battlefields anyway!”

Our two guests were seated on a sofa that had been set out for them, cheerfully chatting away. They had suggested we move our discussions to another room, away from the princess’s personal chambers, but I refused. I was Her Highness’s guard, after all.

As our talks began, I quickly realized why they had wanted to have our discussion elsewhere. They weren’t even trying to disguise the fact that they were here to take me back to Raghion, and now they were doing it in front of my current employer—a princess of Tiuccia.

These two were spinning a sweet story of how we transmigrators should be helping each other get by as they offered to take me in, but there was just something shady about them, and I suspect it was their chosen tactic.

For some reason, the bombastic girl had moved to sit next to me. She was leaning in close, angling her breasts in a calculating way that made her cleavage impossible to ignore.

She was clearly trying to seduce me.

I was twenty-five years old and single to boot. The average guy my age would be more than happy to ogle some breasts.

Given their stratagem of choice, they must have somehow obtained my personal information somewhere—they had known my age, gender, place of origin, and even tier.

Well, they’d probably gotten it straight from Tiuccia. Our nations were allied, after all.

I’d surrendered several A-rank weapons to the army back at Croway, which would’ve made it clear that I was a crafter. While I had been making potions in Tachyrinn, I hadn’t revealed that I could make S-ranked crafts like elixirs yet.

So, with that knowledge, they must’ve assumed I was an A-tier crafter. I was an S-tier player in truth...but given that anything lower than SS-tier in Golden Dawn was considered third-rate, I figured it wasn’t like it made much of a difference.

Oh, yeah.

The warnings Nadar had given me before I had come to Tachyrinn came to mind. He’d told me not to trust the adventurer’s guild. On top of that, he’d also warned against leaking my personal information, like my abilities, to anyone who couldn’t be trusted.

Dydeau began another long-winded explanation. “Kariya, you were transferred here to Tachyrinn Station directly after the battle on Croway Plains, right? And that was where you had your first combat experience against monsters, I assume? I’m truly glad we managed to meet you in time. As you recall, we players fought monsters in our past lives, and we also killed enemy humans during war events. But those were just acts in a video game. In this world, killing another human being with your own two hands takes resolve and courage. After all, we used to be Japanese people, living in peace. There are actually a lot of players who couldn’t stand the reality of having killed someone and—”

I interrupted him. “Oh, I already have blood on my hands, so you don’t need to be concerned for me over that. It hasn’t particularly tortured me either.”

“What?” he responded, startled.

As I elaborated further, the surprise on their faces led me to realize that neither of them had gone through the experience themselves.

“Once, when I was young and hotheaded, I defeated a band of mountain bandits who had decided to hole themselves up in the depths of the Gaelius Mountains. There had been an official notice posted that they were wanted dead or alive. The bandits didn’t seem likely to reform themselves, so I killed them all.”

The sexy young lady was speechless. Thinking back to what had happened then, I decided to give her a piece of advice.

“Iluma, you made your armor yourself, right? I know how it feels to wear your own work, I really do. It looks great on you, but that armor is probably a bit too...stimulating for men. I advise against showing off too much. If you’re not careful, you might attract the wrong kind of attention and end up in the same situation as the women I saved back then.”

“Back then...?” she repeated, prompting me to continue with my story.

I obliged. “Yeah. The bandits had kidnapped several women and were keeping them imprisoned at their hideout. Seeing what had happened to them was way more difficult and harrowing than when I’d killed the bandits... As another woman, I’d never want you to go through what I saw that day.”

“As another woman...” she slowly repeated.

I nodded in response to her murmuring. I couldn’t help but recall the people I’d saved. The women had been in an absolutely terrible state, having been physically and emotionally abused to the point of breaking down.

I’d brought them to a temple for help and healing and had prayed they’d be safely reunited with their families. In the end, though, I could only wonder what had become of them.

Honestly, seeing how they’d suffered had been immeasurably more traumatic than killing the bandits. After that ordeal, I couldn’t go to brothels anymore. I hadn’t had the money anyway, but even if I had, I doubted I could’ve convinced myself to go.

Iluma was a lovely young woman herself. It would kill me if she ever had to go through what those women had experienced.

“A woman...?” Iluma echoed again.

“That’s right,” I said in agreement, although I wasn’t really registering what she was asking. I continued to reflect on my ordeal. “All of the captives were women. I feel nothing but shame to consider that I’m a man, like those brutes who assaulted all those poor women.”

“Please don’t think of yourself that way!” Iluma cried out. For some reason, the voluptuous young lady had grasped my hand with both of hers and was now gazing intently into my eyes. Her expression was gravely resolute. “Listen, Kariya. You’re not alone—even if you were a woman in your past life, it’s not uncommon for people to change genders after they reincarnate. So you don’t need to worry! You can still live as a woman in this life too!”

“Pardon?” I said, taken aback.

Huh? Me? A woman?

30. I’m Not, Really

It seemed that, in this world, people inherited not only the abilities of the characters they’d played in Golden Dawn, but their gender as well. Because of this, some people who had played characters of a different gender from their own in life had to deal with the reality of being reincarnated as an unfamiliar sex.

Honestly, I thought it was actually pretty common for people to play a character of another gender. But since Golden Dawn didn’t allow you to have multiple characters, I had picked a male character to match my own.

So no, I hadn’t been a woman in my past life.

I’d had a girlfriend in that life as well, though I admit she had broken up with me. And here, I’d had a fiancée too, though she had also broken up with me... Man, I just had the worst luck with women, didn’t I? Oh well, it wasn’t something I was gonna dwell on.

Anyway, despite my protests, the two visitors from the adventurer’s guild just wouldn’t listen.

No matter how many times I told them they had it wrong, they wouldn’t entertain it, not even for a moment. The bombastic beauty had started referring to me as her “dear sister” and hadn’t stopped until the moment of her departure back to Raghion. While they hadn’t been successful in recruiting me to the guild this time, they’d left with the promise that they’d be back.

I was thankful that at least Iluma had ceased her painful attempts at seducing me. Although her body was that of a fully developed adult, her face still had the darling charm of a young woman. However, I had the feeling she’d grown attached to me in an entirely different manner.

And now, at present...the misunderstanding had somehow managed to persist in other places.

“So Kariya was a woman in his past life? That explains why he’s so pretty, don’t you think?” someone exclaimed.

“Mm-hmm, I can see that being the case,” another responded.

Hold on there, little miss ladies-in-waiting. You’re all so much more lovely than I am.

Besides, in terms of visuals, the character I had played in my past life looked nothing like how I looked now. Back then, I’d played a character with fair skin, and my hair had been a deep, ultramarine blue. He hadn’t been particularly handsome or anything; if you asked me, he’d honestly looked pretty unremarkable.

While I couldn’t deny the objective fact that I, a man now sporting a complexion with olive undertones, was considerably handsome in my own way, I could still deny the fact that I’d ever been a woman. I’d never been one, okay?

Princess Catharine, surrounded by her attendants tittering in excitement, studied me with a grave look on her face. After a long moment of silence, she suddenly spoke firmly and decisively.

“I’ve heard that, regardless of their current circumstances, it’s best to treat transmigrators according to their gender in their past life. Seeing as Kariya was a woman in his past life, we needn’t treat him—er, her—so reservedly. Have her room moved from the fourth floor to the fifth. Immediately,” she ordered. “Let’s have her stay in a room near my own.”

“What?!” I yelped in surprise.

If Catharine noticed, she didn’t acknowledge it. “Liese. Could you make arrangements to accommodate Kariya immediately? Preferably before any mistakes are made.” Her tone was strained.

“Right away, Your Highness.” Having received her orders, the head of the attendants clapped her hands twice to draw everyone’s attention. “By Her Highness’s command, Kariya’s room will henceforth be moved to the room directly across from her”—Liese paused for a fraction of a second there—“bedchambers.”

“Understood,” the attendants said in a perfect chorus before they set about their task.

As they filed out of the room, the ladies whispered to me as they passed by. Still dazed, all I could do was listen.

“Welcome to the women’s quarters, Kariya. We’re more than happy to have you.”

“We’d been so worried. What if some brutish men had broken into your room during the night, you know? It could happen on the fourth floor.”

“It’s much safer on the fifth floor, don’t you worry.”

The attendants giggled as they left to go about their duties.

Now, the only people remaining in the room were the princess, Liese, and myself.

Finally finding my tongue, I hurriedly tried to convince Catharine to rescind her order. “Y-Your Highness! I promise you, I was a man in my past life! I apologize for having spoken in a way that invited so much confusion. I truly am sorry. So please, you mustn’t be so hasty—it’s not right for a princess yet to wed to have a commoner so near by your side, and especially not one of such questionable history—”

“Kariya,” Liese said, interrupting me, “Her Highness is concerned for your safety.”

“Wait, what?”

Liese began to elucidate tersely. “Her Highness is worried for your welfare, especially because you are a transmigrator. You’ve garnered the attention of many since your sudden appearance from Gaelius, and many of those individuals are interested in both your abilities and the figure you cut—so much so that they are unconcerned about your gender. Have you not been catcalled by men within Tachyrinn? We’ve provided you with guards, but we’re well aware that there are some who still would not be deterred by the presence of knights. Nadar has also charged us with keeping you from harm, so rest assured that we will fulfill our own duty to protect you.”

When I heard that Nadar had been worried for me, a slight warmth blossomed in my chest.

Come to think of it, I was a transmigrator who was still outside of the adventurer’s guild’s grasp. I also hadn’t yet registered with them since my conversation with their representatives had been derailed. In other words, I still didn’t have an official backer.

I was essentially an unbound element. It stood to reason that some would be wary of me and the immense power I represented as a transmigrator, while others would want to make my power their own.

And Nadar’d been concerned for me, knowing this. Not only had he taken me under his wing and kept me protected under the shelter of his company, but he’d even had a word with the princess on my behalf.

He was such a nice guy... No wonder he was so popular in Golden Dawn.

“If the adventurer’s guild and Raghion both have determined you’re a woman, then let’s use that to our advantage,” Liese said. “Treating you as one suits our purposes much better as well. So we will protect you as another woman, Kariya.”

The topmost level of Tachyrinn was reserved for the exclusive use of the princess, other noblewomen, and their ladies-in-waiting. Aside from the guards, men were forbidden to enter, and this rule was strictly upheld.

As a transmigrator, I’d already been afforded a certain prestige, but if I were considered to be a woman, I could remain in the women’s quarters without tarnishing the reputation of its residents.

The only problem now was my own reputation, but...whatever. I was planning on leaving Tiuccia after the war ended anyway. Since I had no intention to return, I could just shrug off whatever rumors happened to spread.

But still, Miss Head of Ladies... You really should be more concerned about the chastity of the women here than that of some guy!

Not that I had any intention of making any moves on anyone, of course.

As I’d explained to the two from the adventurer’s guild, the very idea of women in such duress had left me with scars I couldn’t erase. All I wanted was for girls to be happy.

Actually, that reminded me of something—I didn’t think I’d ever actually seen Princess Catharine smiling. She may have worn a faint smile here and there, but I’d never seen her with a genuine smile from the bottom of her heart.

But maybe she couldn’t smile. Not while we were in the midst of war and her family was standing at the front lines.

Princess Catharine’s gaze moved in my direction, and she studied me with an unbending stare. Her green eyes were so bright and dazzling that I couldn’t help but nearly close my own.

“Understood. Thank you.” I smiled so deeply it reached even my eyes and bowed to the princess and her retainer for being so considerate. “I’ll take you up on your offer, then. I’ll protect you as another woman. I promise I won’t betray the trust that you and everyone else have placed in me, so worry not.”

“We shall trust in you as well, for you have Nadar’s,” replied Liese.

I deeply appreciate your concern for me, Your Highness, Liese, and all you ladies-in-waiting. Still, there’s something I want none of you to ever forget.

Although I may have the body of a man, my heart is that of a woman’s...okay, no, not really! In your wildest dreams! I’m a man on the inside too, okay?

So you should be more careful, ladies who are still unwed!

Maybe it would be best if I were to leave the country as soon as the war ended, just as I’d initially planned... That way, I’d avoid causing an uproar for the women.

31. The Dearly Missed

From my vantage point on the balcony of one of Tachyrinn’s spires, the battlefield was far too distant.

Erecting a barrier to keep the howling winter wind from carrying me away, I looked out across the forest below me toward Croway. I knew it must’ve been somewhere past the sea of trees.

I couldn’t remember the distance between Tachyrinn and Croway as the crow flies in Golden Dawn. Back then, it would take me three Jumps at most to get from somewhere in the Central Nations to Tachyrinn.

I’d never Jumped from Tachyrinn to the Croway Plains either. Croway was an area that had only been used for basic leveling and events. But compared to a field in a video game that had hard data limits, this world was real and vast to match.

I was certain that to get from Tachyrinn to Croway now, I’d have to Jump at least ten times.

First, I’d start at the highest point—the spire at the center of the fortress—and Jump from there to the narrow balcony where I was standing now. This spot granted an exceptional overview of our surroundings. Anyway, from here, I’d Jump in succession while ensuring that my teleport endpoints were safe.

If my landing point couldn’t be visually verified, then the teleport would be a failure—an obstruction at the endpoint of the Jump would become fused to flesh on alighting, after all. Disasters that would never occur in Golden Dawn because they were prevented by the game’s mechanics were now a terrifyingly conceivable reality.

When I had Jumped for the very first time in this new life, there had been a bee at my endpoint. I had gouged it out of my thigh with a knife, crying in pain all the while. If it’d ended up in my heart instead, I might have died.

Yeah, Jumping through the forest was entirely out of the question. It was just too dangerous.

To ensure a safe Jump, the desired endpoint needed to be cleansed with magic beforehand. Casting magic and Jumping at the same time consumed more MP. For a crafter whose magical aptitude was stuck at a mere B-tier, executing several Jumps in succession wore me out pretty quickly. On top of that, magic was harder to use over greater distances, so doing it several times in a row became that much more difficult.

In other words, I couldn’t casually travel to Croway just to check how things were going at the front lines, unfortunately. And since that wasn’t an option, the next best thing was to look at the battlefield through a telescope from a high vantage point.

“They’re still going at it,” I muttered to myself.

Beyond the forest that continued far toward the horizon, I spotted what looked like tiny flowers blooming in the sky.

Arrays had been deployed in midair, blocking the enemy’s volleys of magic. The scattering magic missiles almost looked like fireworks that painted arcs in the air. That was because the defensive arrays, which were arranged across the sky in a flat line, obstructed their path and prevented the magic from reaching past their aegis.

Examining the orientation of the arcs, the situation at the war front became readily evident.

I sighed. “We’re entirely on the defensive.”

All of the arcs had been facing the same direction—that meant Khrasiel was the only one launching attacks.

But Tiuccia could still win as long as it held out until allied reinforcements from Raghion arrived. That must’ve been why we weren’t actively striking back at Khrasiel...which might’ve been what the rank and file on the battlefield were thinking too.

But having been stationed at our supply base of Tachyrinn, I realized something.

We weren’t holding back because we thought we could win if we stalled for time. We simply didn’t have the resources to be attacking in the first place.

Our front was just barely managing to hang in there with the little time I’d afforded them by sending in more supplies from the rear. I was certain that if I hadn’t been at Tachyrinn, handling logistics, our tactic of buying time would have collapsed a long time ago.

“What’s got the Empire dragging their feet?” I mused.

The sexy young woman from the adventurer’s guild—Iluma—had been making regular visits to Tachyrinn after her initial attempt at recruiting me. I had been putting off joining the guild despite her repeated invitations. But her recruitment drive was only in name anyway—she was mainly coming by to hang out. And for some reason, she was still enthusiastically calling me her “sister.”

It’s fine, I guess. I’ll just clear up the misunderstanding when I leave Tiuccia for good.

As I’d previously suggested to her, she’d readily agreed to stop wearing the bikini armor that left nothing to imagination when around NPCs. I felt a little protective of her, kind of like I was an older male cousin from her extended family or something. Though maybe to her, I was more of a female cousin.

When I had asked her whether she knew why Raghion’s reinforcements had been delayed, she’d stuttered out a vague response, clearly bothered by something. Maybe there was trouble brewing on their end.

Well, even if the reinforcements never arrived, we just needed to hold out until spring. At that point, Croway would turn back into a swamp, which would effectively end hostilities. Our army was probably keeping that in the back of their minds as they further fortified our defenses.

I suddenly heard Liese’s voice coming from a magic artifact I had on my belt. “Kariya, can you hear me?”

I put my telescope back into my Pocket Dimension, unhooked the artifact from my belt, and brought it to my ear. “Yes, I hear you loud and clear. Go ahead.”

“Princess Catharine is heading down to the teleportation station. Please escort her.”

“All right. I’ll come back now, so please make sure the Jump point in the office isn’t obstructed.”

This artifact, which resembled a wireless transceiver, was called a cell phone, and it did exactly what could be assumed from its name. Cell phones were “invented” by transmigrators—they had never existed in the game of Golden Dawn.

In the game, players could communicate by using non-portable crystal balls. But since voice chat had also been available, portable crystal balls hadn’t been necessary, and so they had simply never existed within the game.

Seeing as voice chat wasn’t usable here, my transmigrator predecessors had thought to modify crystal balls to be portable. And, following in their footsteps, I too was trying my hand at modifying these cell phones.

While they were already pretty compact, I wanted to get them down to about the size of a small can of coffee, much like their namesakes had been. I also wanted to improve the rather limited communication range.

I switched off my cell phone and returned it to my belt.

Then, taking a deep breath, I Jumped to Princess Catharine’s office.

***

The teleportation station located beneath Tachyrinn was the one and only place the princess would ever go to diverge from her usual loop between her own room and her office. That was because her (probably) dearly beloved twin brother would return to the fortress from the battlefield every few days through the teleportation portal. Catharine had never once missed welcoming him back or seeing him off.

The Heraldry held by the Tiuccian royal family, the Ivory Veil, could only be erected by those of their house. Catharine’s twin brother, the Third Prince Wald, was only fifteen years old. At that age, he was a slender, petite young man.

His father—the king—and his brother—the crown prince—were holding the line at Croway. But the battlefield on which they stood must’ve been a mercilessly cruel place for a youth his age.

Using the teleportation portal that could be activated only once every few days, he regularly returned to Tachyrinn to get a comfortable, full night’s rest before returning to the battlefield to fulfill his duty.

If you asked me, it was a pretty bad idea to have so many successors to the crown stationed together on the battlefield. I felt like they should’ve probably had at least one of them retreat to somewhere safe.

However, the Ivory Veil required three members of the royal family to deploy. According to the service corps coachman, the reason the Veil hadn’t gone up yet was that the enemy simply wasn’t letting them. Their attacks had been too severe, too frequent.

The underground portal that connected to Croway Plains began to glow. A dome of light formed over the minor portal and then vanished to reveal the Third Prince.

“Sister!”

With a gentle smile, he approached his sister. She likewise looked relieved to see him.

Ordinarily, the prince would be accompanied by a crate full of documents that required swifter delivery than the service corps and their convoys could manage. But today, he was accompanied by a purple-eyed man with an unkempt five o’clock shadow.

“Hey, Kariya. Kept the princess well-guarded, did you?”

“Nadar?!” I exclaimed, startled.

The Master of Blades, Nadar Cautley, flashed me a daredevil grin as though he’d pulled off the prank of a lifetime.

32. Nighttime Tryst

My mind was a mess.

Every evening before I’d turn in for the night, I’d focus on upgrading my cell phone. A habit befitting a crafter.

In fact, that was what I was attempting to do at this precise moment. Dressed in my pajamas with a casual jacket thrown on top, I was sitting at my desk. There was an assortment of parts scattered on top. However, for some reason, I couldn’t summon up any ideas for arrays or catalysts to try combining with the phone.

I knew the reason. It was because earlier this afternoon, Nadar had come to Tachyrinn.

Just as he’d told me before he’d left the first time, he had apparently come to check whether I’d learned to ride a horse or not.

I had put my best skills on display in the courtyard. My form hadn’t been all that bad, according to Nadar. He’d complimented me, so all my practice must’ve paid off.

Checking up on me hadn’t been his only reason for visiting, of course. He also had things he needed to personally take care of here, and a great deal of them too—he was swamped with work.

There were also the official pleasantries that went hand in hand with his work. Just earlier, he had met with the prince and princess and other high-ranking individuals for dinner. I had even been invited to join them as well, although the spot that had been set aside for me was at the farthest end of the dining table from the seat of honor.

Given how busy Nadar was, I wasn’t surprised to hear that he was planning on heading back to the battlefield in Croway with the prince first thing tomorrow morning.

In other words, if I wanted to speak with him, tonight was my only chance.

“But if I called on him, I’d only get in the way, wouldn’t I?” I muttered to myself as I slumped over my worktable. It was still covered in miscellaneous parts.

But I do want to go see him.

Just for the record, this wouldn’t be a secret midnight tryst or anything. I just wanted to talk to this man named Nadar Cautley. He was probably the first person in this world to really understand me.

In this world that was so much like Golden Dawn yet completely different, he was the only one who saw me as the person I’d been before reincarnating here—an average, everyday Japanese man.

I’d been nothing more than a white-collar worker who was somehow thrust into this video game world, and he had sympathized with that. That was why I wanted him to listen. Or, well, he didn’t have to listen, per se.

There was someone out there who knew the real me. Just that simple fact made me happier than anything.

A sudden voice startled me from my thoughts.

“Still up, Kariya? I got some good stuff. How about you join me for a drink?”

And with that, he threw open the door as soon as he knocked. I hadn’t even had the chance to respond first.

“Whoa!”

Whirling around in my chair so quickly that I nearly fell out of it, I was met with the sight of the attendant who must’ve led Nadar here. She beamed radiantly as she bowed and departed.

Of course, Nadar himself was there as well. He had swapped his uniform for his own casual attire. In his hands were two empty glasses and a bottle of wine.

He casually glanced around my room, even as he stood in the doorway, and peered curiously at the parts littered all over my worktable.

“Hm? Oh, right, Liese had mentioned you were working on something. You still at it right now? I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“No, you’re good!” I exclaimed, scrambling to reply. “I just figured I’d try working on the cell phone a bit before turning in. I’m not planning on finishing it anytime soon, don’t worry.”

Pushing the parts to the side, I gestured for him to come in.

“My bad,” he said with a laugh as he entered. “Oh, I’ll leave the door open. The little lady who showed me here said it’s good etiquette to leave the door open when a man visits a woman in her room, you see.”

“Uh, I can explain...” I began.

He cut me off there. “It’s fine, I’ve heard. There was a bit of a fuss about your gender in your old life, right? Sounds like everyone here gladly took advantage of the Empire’s transmigrators’ misunderstanding,” he said with a sigh. Then, he hung his head in apology. “Sorry you had to go through that.”

It seemed like he’d heard the rumors that I’d been a woman in my past life.

I shook my head. “I really was a man,” I insisted.

“Right, I thought so. You know, I’ve met a transmigrator who was a different gender than he—er, she, rather—had been in her past life. You have a completely different vibe from her. You carry yourself in a different way.”

Interesting—so there had been a precedent for it, and Nadar had seen it happen. Someone who’d apparently been a woman in their past life but had reincarnated into a male body.

“Well, it’s easy for people to make that mistake with you because your looks stand out so much. Liese told me about how you’ve all taken advantage of the confusion to move your room to the women’s quarters to bolster your security, but for better or worse, people’s views of you have gotten a bit warped as a result. As much as I’d like to apologize, this really is for the best till the war blows over,” he told me.

“I understand. My contract with the royal family was until the end of the war anyway. What happened the other day doesn’t bother me.”

“Glad to hear it.” Breathing another sigh of relief, Nadar began to fill the empty glass sitting in front of me with a drink.

Yeah, I might have to continue with my charade as a woman in Tiuccia, but that didn’t matter. I was planning on leaving after the war anyway. If, somehow, this misunderstanding hounded me even after that, I could just adjust my looks and change my name, and that’d be that. Dyeing my hair wouldn’t be too bad. Changing my skin tone would be kind of a pain in the ass, but I could make something that’d do it if necessary.

I picked up my now-filled glass and raised it in a toast before sampling its amber ambrosia. The refreshing white wine went down smoothly.

Nadar grinned. Apparently, he’d filched it from Tachyrinn’s wine cellar before dropping by. I couldn’t blame him—the meals on the front lines were probably a trial and a half. He must’ve been really glad to have some good wine.

As for me... I’d have to say that, among all the liquors I’ve ever tried, this wine was the best I’d ever tasted.

“Oh, and thanks for sending the supplies along; they’ve been a real lifesaver,” he said. “They’re much better in quality than our old supply, and we’re managing to hold the line now that we can use as much as we need. I’d heard that you’ve started mass-manufacturing things, but are you being properly compensated for everything? I ain’t so sure the country’s got the coin to be paying you...”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. We’ve made an arrangement that works for me.”

Ta-da! I materialized a small ingot from my Pocket Dimension.

“Recently, I’ve been accepting my payment in rare metals. I can use silver and mythril to make weapons and armor, and other metals can be incorporated into crafts as well. Don’t worry, I’ve had someone with a proper bartering skill check whether the value of the metals is commensurate with my work.” He looked a little perplexed, so I continued to explain. “Oh, what I mean is that while I can mine the metals myself, gathering them in bulk is a real pain. I’m glad the crown’s been flexible enough to pay me in ingots instead.”

“So you can mine ores yourself, eh? Makes sense that a crafter would have the ability to do that, I guess. Now that I think about it, Tiuccia’s got a fair bit of materials stockpiled. Well, lucky you, then.”

“The production’s being handled by volunteers in Tachyrinn anyway, so it’s not like I need to ask for a labor fee, and we do have plenty of raw materials. I’m just glad I could be of help.”

Heh heh heh! That’s right, bow down to the almighty item crafter!

Back in my old life, crafters who specialized in making items were basically superfluous. Pretty much anything could be purchased from the cash shop if a player was willing to open their wallet. Some people might’ve called that despicable, but I get it—a game publisher is still a business, after all.

But of course, this world didn’t have any such conveniences.

Consumable items like potions were indispensably essential, and the crafters who could make them were highly respected. But for us, a simple “thank you” was more than enough.

Hearing words of appreciation lit a fire inside and pushed us to keep making things. That was what being a crafter was all about.

And with that, Nadar gave me the words I wanted to hear the most.

“Thank you, Kariya.”

33. Caught in the Act

Nadar and I drank together late into the night, swapping stories until the wee hours of the morning.

I had sequestered myself in the depths of Gaelius, living like a hermit who’d abandoned all worldly matters. I was certain there was information I hadn’t been privy to but would have been considered common knowledge to other transmigrators, as the adventurer’s guild would’ve taught them about it.

Nadar, who knew the truth about transmigrators through his old master-at-arms, told me about some more differences between this world and Golden Dawn as we shot the breeze.

For one, he explained why the dwarves and elves had withdrawn into their own territories. While I had noticed the complete absence of either race among all the people I’d met so far, I hadn’t realized the reason had been so grave. I’d figured that maybe they’d just been a feature of the game and simply didn’t exist in this world, but the truth was that they rarely ventured beyond their own borders.

This was due to transmigrators from ages past. Apparently, some people had gotten entirely way too hyped up over the fact that they’d reincarnated into their favorite game and had decided to treat the world the exact same way they had played Golden Dawn—which meant they’d had zero consideration for other people. They had rampaged through the dwarven and elven realms and had nearly brought them to ruin.

Realistically speaking, I figured they’d probably just gone on a gathering spree and had collected all the materials they could get their hands on. The territories ruled by the dwarves and elves were renowned for being treasure troves of raw crafting materials, after all.

But, having lived in the Gaelius Mountains where there was hardly any growth at all, I very quickly realized that once something had been harvested in this world, it took a really long time for it to grow back and be available again. So if everything were uprooted and taken without due care for the long term, there would be nothing to harvest for years. And I doubted the locals would’ve taken very kindly to that.

Although small-scale trading still actively continued between their nations and others, the elves and dwarves had both long since erected unbreakable barriers around their lands and had closed themselves off from the world.

“Weren’t people upset with the transmigrators?” I asked.

“Aye, of course they were. That’s part of why the adventurer’s guild was established. And, just to be clear, they cleaned up their act after that. Besides, our forefathers were probably more interested in the wealth and knowledge transmigrators could impart to us regular folks, even if we did come to a head with them sometimes. Now we’ve got a sorta give-and-take relationship with ’em.”

“Have there been any players who reincarnated as an elf or a dwarf?”

“Not that I’ve heard of,” Nadar said. “But it’s not like news from their territories gets out much. Both the Northern Ridges and the Grand Weald are, for all intents and purposes, closed off to outsiders, so no one knows what’s actually happening within their lands.”

Nadar waved around the now-empty wine bottle and muttered that despite the border closures, some dwarves would still venture from their mountain home in search of grog.

“Should’ve swiped one more,” he sighed.

“Oh, I have a few bottles here. I’ll go grab one.”

He’d look so terribly saddened at the empty bottle that I couldn’t help but smile with wry amusement as I headed to the shelf.

Picking one that seemed good for the occasion, I brought it back to the table, where Nadar was poking around the parts I had left out. Though the drink had very clearly started getting to his head, he still seemed genuinely interested in the materials.

“Ah, sorry. Was I not supposed to touch this stuff?”

“You’re fine,” I told him. “Are you into tinkering? These are parts for a mobile phone I’ve been trying to mod.”

I showed him the main body of the phone, which was still empty inside. It was the size of a typical soda bottle and fit snugly in the palm of a hand. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the skills to make it a smartphone, so I was aiming for it to look like one of those old brick phones instead. Nostalgic.

I hadn’t been able to make a flip-style phone either. I guessed these were the sad limitations of my S-tier crafter abilities.

As I explained the device to Nadar, his face lit up with wonder.

He whistled. “Damn, modding really is the stuff of dreams.”

“Right?! I feel like I’ve managed to make it smaller. Now, the main issue is figuring out how to balance the amount of MP it can store and the amount it burns while in use.”

“Oh, so that’s why it’s called a ‘mobile’ phone? You can use it while on the move, eh?”

“Yeah. I mean, it can be used like a crystal ball too. Like, even while it’s affixed in a spot to refill its MP, you can use it to contact others, but the main goal is to be able to carry it around. Theoretically, it should be able to connect to a phone that someone is carrying at Croway while being used here, but obviously that hasn’t been tested yet.”

His purple eyes shone bright. “Once this is done, I won’t have to keep running around!” he exclaimed. “Want me to test it on-site for you? It’d be no sweat off my back.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’d need to make adjustments based on frequent feedback, and neither of us has the luxury of moving between Croway and Tachyrinn often enough to do that.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment as the cogs turned in his wine-addled brain. Eventually, he said, “I’ll go ask someone who can, then.”

He got to his feet, wobbling unsteadily. Then, heading out the door—which, true to his word, had been left open—he crossed the hall to knock at the door directly across from mine.

And that was the door to...Princess Catharine’s very own bedchamber.

The soldiers standing guard on either side of her door watched him in open astonishment.

Shit, I thought, I gotta stop him before things get any worse. But before I could rise from my seat, the door to the princess’s room opened ever so slightly.

I could hear Nadar talking animatedly, but given his hushed tones, I couldn’t make out what exactly he was saying. Eventually, he stepped back from the doorway with a wide grin plastered on his face.

The door opened a little farther, and two faces framed with golden hair peeked out from the room, one hovering over the other. Catharine’s was on top, and Wald’s was below.

The Third Prince had evidently been in his sister’s room. Dressed in a nightgown, his overwhelmingly close resemblance to his sister made it clear that they were twins. He smiled softly at me and gave me a thumbs-up.

It looked like Nadar had asked the prince to be responsible for ferrying the phone between Tachyrinn and Croway, given his usual routine.

Catharine looked down at her brother and sighed, betraying her exasperation.

Mm-hmm. I’d thought so before, but the princess was definitely more on the beautiful side while her brother was cuter. The twins returned to their room, and Nadar returned aglow with joy.

“Got the A-OK!”

I couldn’t help but feel a little exasperated myself, but his grin was infectious. “You’re really close to those two, aren’t you?”

“I just happened to end up teaching them a bit of the art of the sword. We’re nothing more than a master and his two disciples. But since House Tiuccia puts a greater priority on magic, I’m only teaching them enough to defend themselves.”

“Oh, right, they’d need magic for the Ivory Veil,” I said.

A Heraldry of the crown and national treasure, the Ivory Veil required MP to activate. Besides being well-educated in magic, I guess they were also studying swordsmanship on the side.

Come to think of it, the princess mentioned something about swordplay before, didn’t she...?

Now that we were on the topic, Nadar explained that he had been childhood friends with the king, and they had both studied swordsmanship under the same master-at-arms.

That made them fellow students at some point, huh? House Cautley must be an elite house to rub elbows with royalty. Even now, Nadar teaches swordsmanship to the king’s very own children.

“By the way, has the Ivory Veil been deployed yet?”

“Still working on it,” he replied. “We don’t have enough mages on hand who can help support the activation. So every time we try to activate the Veil, Khrasiel interrupts, and we need to start over from square one. I don’t know how many times that’s happened by now, even though we needed the Veil to be up yesterday.”

He’d been enjoying his drink just a moment ago, but now Nadar’s mood was dark and grim. Seeing him grumble quietly to himself, I recalled the strange sense of unease I had felt regarding our army.

We didn’t have much in the way of logistical support, probably due to the fact that we had no high-tier craftsmen among our transmigrators. But maybe we were also lacking in magic specialist transmigrators who could support them as they activated the Veil.

If that wasn’t the case, it didn’t make much sense that they’d need all three direct descendants of the crown to head into a battlefield, or that it had been taking them so long to deploy the Veil at all.

I noticed that Nadar’s eyes were shut, but I called to him tentatively. “Nadar.”

Hearing me, he opened his eyes and looked my way. Although his heavy-lidded eyes didn’t give me the usual impression that he was sleepy, his gaze didn’t feel acutely sharp either. Instead, his look was honest and unadorned.

“About the transmigrators in Tiuccia...” I began, but I couldn’t find it in me to finish my question. Nadar didn’t need me to.

“So you noticed, huh?” Nadar sighed. It was bereft of energy. “The situation’s exactly as you’ve surmised. We—”

A shrill voice rang out, interrupting him. “What are you doing, Nadar Cautley?!”

Nadar leaped from his seat with a jolt. As did I, naturally.

“L-Liese!” he gasped.

Standing imposingly in the ajar doorway and staring into my room was the Head of Ladies herself. Just past her, across the hall, I could see one of the soldiers who was guarding the princess’s room avert her gaze. She must’ve reported Nadar after he had so brazenly called upon the princess.

Once again, two golden blonde heads poked out of the princess’s room to peek curiously our way.

“Nadar...” Liese said crossly.

“Yes, ma’am!” he yelped.

“What were you thinking?! You do realize this is the fifth floor, do you not?! How dare you come up here so late at night and enter an unwed woman’s room! And to think, you need to be up early tomorrow morning too!”

“Apologies, ma’am! I’ll just be taking my leave now, excuse me!”

Liese is so powerful that even the Master of Blades can’t win against her.

Head lowered in shame, he passed by her in the doorway as he made to leave. As he did, she whispered into his ear.

“Were you having a war meeting?” she asked. “If so, I can have a room downstairs readied for you.”

“Er, no, that’s not— I was just having a drink or two with him. Her. Anyway, I’m going back to my room. Sorry for the trouble.” Nadar turned around, and that scruffy, middle-aged man flashed me a warm smile. “See ya around, Kariya.”

***

The next morning, Nadar and Prince Wald left for Croway by way of the teleportation portal. I’d entrusted one of my cell phones to the prince.

Since we were all busy during the day, I had planned on conducting tests at night. Despite the inconvenience, however, the prince was personally willing to help me out and offered his assistance with a shy smile.

Thank you, Prince Wald. There’s just really something about the word “modding” that gets a guy’s heart racing, right, Prince?

Princess Catharine simply smiled in reluctant acquiescence at her dear brother.

Now that I had an assistant, it was time to roll up my sleeves and really get down to modding! Oh, don’t worry—I’d still do my job and make more handy-dandy tools and potions too.

34. Dona, Dona

A caravan of horse-drawn wagons set out from Tachyrinn for Croway Plains. The convoy of supply-laden wagons stretched along a road that cut through the forest that surrounded the citadel.

After seeing them off, my gaze settled on the covered wagon that was supposed to act as a caboose for the train of supplies. It had yet to finish preparing for departure.

Several mages in robes were running about in the vicinity of the wagon in states of near panic. All of them shouldering heavy loads on their backs. They were the reinforcements for the unit of mages at Croway. These people were responsible for neutralizing the enemy’s volleys of magic before they could strike our army.

Given their responsibility, any losses in that unit created a huge issue. So, every time a request for reinforcements would arrive from the front lines, all of the mages stationed at Tachyrinn headed to Croway.

“Oh, Kariya! Did you come to see us off? That’s so nice of you!” a bright voice chirped at me.

“Bondaughn!” I exclaimed.

It was the young, bespectacled mage who had previously volunteered to assist me with my Jump demonstration. He smiled broadly at me as he struggled to adjust the load slipping awkwardly off his shoulders.

“I’m finally headed for the front lines too!” he said. “When the other mages deployed before, I was left behind because of my age, but I’ve always felt so bad for getting that special treatment. But now that my magic’s at tier B, I gotta pull my weight too!”

For a moment, I couldn’t find the words.

The fact that this world wasn’t peaceful like my Japan hit me like a brick wall. Even children would be forced to fight if they were attacked by bandits or monsters. A child living with a destitute family might starve to death—a fact I knew all too well. Or they might be sold off by their parents.

I thought I had known all this. But this was a fresh realization—for someone who was once Japanese, the words “children going to war” hung heavy.

On the other hand, a young mage his age might not have considered going off to a battlefield to be any different from exterminating monsters or trouncing bandits that he had to do daily.

I was certain that my worldview had changed after I had been reborn, but it looked like I still had a long way to go. And now, with these thoughts fresh in my mind, I looked over at the covered wagon once more.

Seeing as this would be the first time he was heading into battle, Bondaughn was full of vim and vigor. However, many of the older mages were pallid. The grim reality of heading into a war that only seemed to be growing more futile must’ve been weighing on their minds.

“Just do what you can out there,” I said gently. “Don’t try to be a hero, okay? Oh, let me give you something special, since you’re leaving.”

I materialized a little trinket in the palm of my hand and offered it to him, telling him he could think of it as a good luck charm.

“I couldn’t make many of these because the materials aren’t easy to come by, so I haven’t included any in the supplies we’ve sent out so far. Do you know what this is? It’s called an antimagus. It’s only single-use, but it can block designated magic for a short period of time,” I explained.

The nearby mages began to murmur among themselves. They must have been eavesdropping on our conversation.

Bondaughn was wide-eyed with surprise. As I handed the little statuette of a girl in prayer to him, I continued my explanation—this time, I did so loudly enough so the other mages could hear me clearly.

“An antimagus’s effect lasts about five minutes. Its duration is short, so it needs discerning timing to be used to its full potential, but it can nullify the enemy’s attacks over a wide area. You should take it for good luck. Keep it in your storage box, and let the more experienced mages tell you when to use it, okay?”

“Okay, I will. Thank you, Kariya!”

With the antimagus now in hand, Bondaughn crouched down in front of a stack of wooden boxes left beside the carriage that were waiting to be loaded.

Each box’s “lock” was embedded into the box itself. Placing his hand flat against one, Bondaughn closed his eyes.

“You, um, made these boxes with knowledge from your old life, right, Kariya? It’s amazing how they don’t actually need keys to open. The ‘system support’ spirit in the box just asks in my head if I want to open it or not.”

That had come as a surprise to me too.

The status and system windows that were plentiful in Golden Dawn were, obviously, not things that appeared in this world. Instead, they had been replaced by a mysterious voice that spoke directly to my mind. I’d thought it strange...but stranger yet was the fact that NPCs could also hear it. Whatever that voice was, it was astounding.

I wonder if the adventurer’s guild had figured out these mysterious occurrences that called back to the video game, considering they were a collaboration to support transmigrators.

Speaking of which, I still hadn’t joined the guild.

Their fervent invitations hadn’t abated, but even setting aside the fact that the guild was a sieve with spies running rampant, there was just something oddly suspicious about it all that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Well, I didn’t really need to join. I’d been getting along just fine on my own till now.

“I’ve designed those boxes so they can only be opened by a Tiuccian of B-tier magical aptitude,” I explained. “If someone needs you to open one, go ahead and do it for them. They’re filled with issued supplies—all sorts of potions and MP-restoring light orbs—which you can use as needed.”

“Does that mean we can use as much as we like?”

“Yeah. The light orbs lose their stored MP in two weeks anyway, so feel free to use them all up. The army’s official policy is to go all out with supplies anyway. If you run out, we’ll just make more here and send ’em off to Croway right away, so don’t worry.”

Bondaughn nodded happily. Looking around at the other mages, I saw that the pall of gloom that previously hung over them had vanished. Maybe they felt a little better now. Thank goodness.

As an extra little favor, I helped them load the boxes onto their wagon. With that, they were finally ready for departure.

The covered wagon ferrying Bondaughn and the other mages slowly began moving out toward Croway Plains.

“I’ll see you later!” Bondaughn called as he leaned out of the rear of the wagon. He waved back to me with a smile.

From atop the ramparts surrounding Tachyrinn, a trumpeter sounded a fanfare to send them off. The notes rang loud and clear through the sunny wintry sky.

I was glad someone was playing for the departing mages, but the fact that there was only one trumpeter was a little disheartening.

It was a shame there couldn’t have been a whole band of trumpeters playing an inspiring tune of heroism like they had for the first wagons in the convoy that had headed out. But I guess this sad performance was kind of the fault of the mages themselves, seeing as they’d been late to depart.

Three months had now passed since open war had begun with Khrasiel. In just one more month, spring would arrive.

Our ally, the Raghion Empire, had yet to deliver any reinforcements to Croway.

I’d heard that the battlefield had been split into two fronts, as we were also clashing with a detachment from Khrasiel to the west of the plains now. We just needed to hold out for one more month—spring would come then, and with it, the plains would be flooded.

As long as we could last till then, we would survive the war.

“Okay, I guess I’d better head back to my own battle station,” I muttered to myself a long while after the mages had gone.

One of the knights who’d been acting as my bodyguard called out to me. “Kariya. The princess would like you to attend to her. An escort has come for you.”

I finally tore my gaze away from the area beyond the citadel gates and turned around. A lady-in-waiting who ordinarily attended Catharine was standing near the entrance of the fortress. Noticing I was looking at her, she lowered her head in a respectful nod.

“I’ll be right there,” I replied.

I thanked the knights who’d accompanied me here and sent them on their way before walking toward her.

35. The Princess’s Secret

Escorted by the princess’s lady-in-waiting, I made my way through the now-familiar corridors of Tachyrinn Citadel.

I had begun my stint as Princess Catharine’s bodyguard three months ago, and I felt like we’d gotten a little closer. At least, as far as my post allowed. During the day, I spent all my time in the princess’s office, after all.

Occasionally, the princess would ask to help me with my crafting—probably for a change of pace from her piles of documents. Sometimes, she would also invite me to join her for tea or even a meal.

That being said, we hadn’t become lovers or anything either. There was no hint of romance between us. She was a princess confined to her castle. I was a commoner.

We had been born and raised in completely different worlds. A blossoming romance between people of our stations? That was a thing of fiction. It’d never happen in real life.

Besides, the princess was a wise woman who understood her position perfectly well. She’d never do anything that would diminish her own standing—apparently, the reason she rarely ventured below the fourth floor was to avoid unnecessary contact with men. I couldn’t blame her. She was absolutely breathtaking, and she didn’t have a fiancé yet either.

But, although she’d accepted her life of being confined to the same two floors of a single building, the stress was clearly piling up.

Enter me, Kariya of Gaelius.

Lately, not only had I been serving as her guard, but also as her fencing practice partner. We’d spar in the great hall where I’d previously demonstrated Jump.

Unfortunately, considering she’d learned the sword from Nadar, none among her attendants were skilled enough to serve as a partner for her. None of the male soldiers were suitable either, for obvious reasons.

So, that left me (currently being assumed female, despite my actual gender), a transmigrator and craftsman with B-tier proficiency in combat, as the best available practice partner.

I did have to admit that lately, I’d started to suspect something about Princess Catharine. Up till now, I hadn’t examined her too closely, thinking she was far too majestic for someone of my low birth to look upon. But now that I was serving as her practice partner, I was interacting with her face-to-face and at close range. And being so near her made me realize that something was off—something that I hadn’t noticed at a distance.

She always stood tall, with her back perfectly straight. Her brilliant emerald eyes glittered beautifully, and her porcelain skin was equally as captivating. Framed by golden locks that flowed in gentle waves, her skin was perfectly unblemished and so fair as to be nearly translucent.

However, most of her skin was hidden by her attire—a dress with a high collar and long sleeves that covered even the backs of her hands. The dress also concealed the contours of her body.

But as I watched the way she moved as she swung her sword, I came to a realization. Although her overwhelming beauty never failed to draw the eye, her body itself lacked the gentle curves and softness of a woman.

However, I wasn’t able to verify my suspicions. The shining tiara that rested atop her head blocked all investigative abilities, so Appraise wouldn’t be able to return any information.

Given that she was waited on by Liese and all of her attendants, she was undoubtedly the First Princess of Tiuccia. And only Tiuccian royalty could use the Ivory Veil.

I’d been wondering why House Tiuccia had been compelled to have the king and two of his sons, both rightful successors to the throne, head into a war zone even though the Ivory Veil only stipulated needing three members of the royal family to activate. Over time, it became clear to me that they’d made certain plans.

Everyone knew that the First Princess was stationed within the safe walls of Tachyrinn. Even if something were to happen at Croway, the confusion could be explained away—the identical twins had just happened to swap places at some point when they’d been heading to the battlefield.

Besides, I’d heard with my own ears that Princess Catharine had been left in the safe confines of Tachyrinn due to her family’s unanimous decision. Every few days, I’d watch her welcome her brother back with the utmost joy—and the morning after his arrival, I’d witness her lamenting her own helplessness as she sent him off.

I couldn’t blame “Princess Catharine.” Nor did I feel betrayed, even as a citizen of Tiuccia. After all, it wasn’t as though she was staying behind in Tachyrinn out of selfish concern for her own life.

The truth here was something that didn’t need to be revealed for the sake of the people. Although, to be fair, I didn’t really consider myself much of a citizen.

But what really puzzled me was the fact that there didn’t seem to be any members of the royal family from a cadet branch who could help activate the Veil. Instead, the royal family had been left to struggle by themselves. Was there truly no one who had the requisite magic to use the Veil? The First Prince, Lucian, apparently had poor aptitude with magic, after all.

Still, House Tiuccia was really lacking in members. I doubted they could use the Veil very well, given their current predicament. And I’d heard the crown prince had only just recently gotten married. But at this rate, he’d need at least ten consorts...

While I was mulling over all this, I followed the lady-in-waiting up to the hall on the fourth floor.

There, in the center of the hall, Princess Catharine was waiting for me.

She was as breathtaking as ever today. The princess was wearing an elegant frock that kept the contours of her body well hidden, as she never changed into clothing that would be more appropriate for practice.

However, she was not greeting me with a sword in hand this time.

Prompted by my escort, I proceeded to the center of the area and stood directly in front of Her Highness.

Princess Catharine began to speak, courteous and genteel, her voice a low alto. “Today, I don’t wish for you to assist me with sword practice. Instead, would you be willing to let me experience your teleportation ability, Jump?”

“You want to try Jumping?”

“That’s right. I’ve heard it requires a certain amount of mental preparation. I’ve already gotten permission from Liese. She said that, as long as we remain on the fourth floor or higher, we’re free to practice,” she explained.

My gaze had drifted to look around the hallway—she had noticed as well.

“Ah, if you’re looking for Liese, she’s not here right now. It’s not as though she’s meant to attend to me every moment of the day either. Given that Nadar trusts you, we all do. Now that we’ve known each other for three months, we’ve finally understood the faith Nadar has in you, so she’s returned to her original duties.”

Before I’d realized it, I’d been unconsciously searching for Liese in the hall. It turned out that she’d been surveilling me the whole time, but that was a given. I was a peasant of questionable origin who’d appeared from out of nowhere, after all.

Even I wouldn’t trust myself if I were in their position. Nadar was probably a special case for being so quick to trust me after we’d just met. And since Liese was the head lady-in-waiting to the princess, it was only natural for her to take this stance.

I see... So, they finally trust me...

A lovely, reserved smile came to Catharine’s lips and caught my gaze. She held out a hand, which was so well-hidden by her dress that only her fingertips peeked out from her sleeves.

“We need to be holding hands to Jump, right? Now, if you will.”

I nodded. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

I gently took her hand. Even at first touch, her grip was firm and steady.

“We’ll be teleporting three meters to the side. Three, two, one—”

We Jumped together.

I wonder if she noticed that we’d reappeared a few centimeters above the floor. It was a margin of safety meant to avoid close calls when teleporting. A moment later, our bodies dropped those few centimeters to the floor. The thick rug muffled our landing.

“How did that feel?” I asked.

She thought about it for a moment. “It’s certainly a strange sensation. I did feel like a slight force was pushing me away from you. I believe what you said was true—this is something that requires getting accustomed to through experience. Please, let’s continue.”

I repeated Jumping several times in succession throughout the hall, just as she’d requested.

After the last, her feet were unsteady, but she managed to keep from stumbling. Princess Catharine nodded. “So this is how the recoil force increases with each Jump... At any rate, next I’d like for you to take us outside this room. I’ve already informed the attendants and guards about our Jump practice, so they shouldn’t cause a fuss if we appear out of nowhere.”

“In that case, how about we go up to the spire balcony?” I suggested. “Teleporting inside could cause an accident, so what do you think about doing this outside? That way, you can experience how it feels to actually teleport to another place entirely.”

Since the spire balcony was Tachyrinn’s highest point, I doubted anyone would see us.

Catharine glanced at one of her attendants at my suggestion.

The elderly woman, who was perhaps the second most powerful lady-in-waiting after Liese, nodded. “Your Highness, please bear in mind that a barrier has been erected around Tachyrinn to prevent people from entering the citadel proper by way of Jump, so you won’t be able to return indoors that way. The window to the balcony is locked and cannot be opened from the outside, so I will head up the spire to unlock it first.”

“Thank you. Now, Kariya, let’s Jump to the balcony.”

“As you wish, Your Highness. Pray, excuse me.” With that, I drew her close and pulled her arm—the hand of which was still clasped in mine from our last Jump—around me.

Seeing the confusion on her face, I smiled reassuringly. “If you’re scared when we Jump, go ahead and hold on to me tight. Okay, let’s Jump now. Three, two, one—”

My field of view was suddenly dyed in two colors.

Overhead, a boundless blue sky, bereft of even a single cloud, spread out in every direction. Underfoot, an evergreen sea stretched far away, full of trees that never withered, not even in winter. And in the middle of the endless expanse of trees was Tachyrinn Station.

A large “18” in white stood out against the blue of the roof tiles. Although that had been a designation used in Golden Dawn, it was evidently still in use here, even in this world.

Setting my sights on the centermost spire—on which this sign, indicating this was the eighteenth teleportation station, had been painted—I examined its balcony.

Nope, not a single person is here. But just as I’d confirmed the coast was clear, the force that kept us momentarily floating disappeared.

“Mngh!” The princess bit back a scream and clung to my waist.

Hmm, I knew it... She doesn’t have breasts.

I wrapped my arms around the princess as gravity pulled us from the sky and Jumped to the spire balcony. A moment later, we landed on it with a thump.

“And that’s how Jumping feels,” I said. “It does take some getting used to.”

She pulled away from me, and a faint red color came over her cheeks. I would never tease her about that, of course—this was just work. Right—I needed to be focusing on work. Even if I thought it was nice to have gotten a hug from a pretty “girl,” I knew I shouldn’t say it out loud.

I began to explain. “The decision to Jump first to midair was for safety reasons. Before I make my Jumps, I clear my destination point with wind magic, just in case. You realized that we hang in space for a second right after making a Jump, right? During that time, we can’t be affected by external forces. So, ordinarily, we can use that time to make a series of Jumps. Doing that uses a ton of MP, though.”

“That really surprised me,” she mumbled.

“My apologies. I thought it’d be easier to understand if you experienced it yourself first, rather than listening to all my explanations.”

“Quite true,” she said with a sigh as she ran her fingers through her dishevelled hair to straighten it.

Then, she turned her emerald green eyes to the faraway distance. Beyond the boundless blue sky and the ocean of green to the north, tiny bubbles were bursting at the boundary between heaven and earth.

“Is that where Croway lies?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s far.”

“It takes half a day by horse, if you’ve got a fast one, or three days by carriage.”

“Even though you can get there in an instant with a teleportation portal...”

Placing both hands on the balcony railing, the princess leaned out over it, staring fixedly in the direction of the battlefield. The cold wind beat against her viciously, buffeting her golden hair and the hem of her long dress. But she ignored her tousled hair and simply gazed into the distance.

After a brief silence, she spoke again in a low murmur. “Every night, I pray that my father and brothers will return to Tachyrinn. It’s safe here.”

“But isn’t it important for them to be standing on the field with the soldiers?”

“Yes, of course, and I know that. But it’s irritating that I can’t be out there myself, to know exactly what’s happening there.” Her tone was rough, revealing the extent of her frustration.

I studied her for a moment, then offered a solution in an attempt to mollify her. “If you use a telescope, you can see the spells fired through the air more clearly. Would you like to take a look?”

“No,” she said after a pause. “It’s fine. It’d only make me want to go to battle even more.”

Although snow rarely piled up in these lands, the winter wind was still bitingly cold. The lady-in-waiting who was supposed to come and open the locked window had yet to arrive.

Silently, I erected an invisible magic wall in an attempt to shelter the princess from the wind. She brushed her hair from her shoulder, where it landed once it was no longer thrown about by the wind, to its rightful place at her back.

She turned to me with a smile. “Thanks, Kariya. That helps.”

The tone she was using with me was casual. Too casual.

I decided I should probably tell her. “Um, by the way, Your Highness... I don’t know how to put this, and I probably should have said something earlier, but... Uh, the way you’ve been talking to me since we landed on the balcony...”

She gasped, her mouth open in bewilderment as she realized what I was saying. I guess she hadn’t noticed herself.

“Please, do keep it a secret, all right?” She had immediately returned to being perfectly polite.

Pressing her index finger to her lips, she winked at me.

Okay, hear me out—in my old life, we had a saying: “Cute is justice.”

I have no choice but to keep quiet! In the name of justice!

36. The Children of House Tiuccia

I had discovered “Princess” Catharine’s secret. And later that night...I somehow ended up in her personal chambers.

For the record, we weren’t alone or anything. One of Catharine’s ever-present attendants was dutifully standing off to the side by the wall, but there were also two others.

One was First Prince Lucian, who had come to visit from the royal capital. He’d made the trip from Altiuccia and had ended a long absence. The second visitor was Third Prince Wald, who had come back from Croway Plains in a hurry when he’d heard the news of his eldest brother’s visit.

The three siblings of House Tiuccia were currently engaging in lively conversation over their after-dinner tea.

They were all strikingly gorgeous people with certain similarities between them. It made sense that a bloodline that regularly welcomed attractive people into their family through marriage would have seen the beauty in their lineage refined to a sharpened point throughout the generations, but what House Tiuccia had achieved was clearly the peak in aristocratic circles.

Regardless, today, they had all gathered to examine the cell phone that Prince Wald had. He was always sure to bring the phone back from Croway after I’d entrusted it to him deliberately for the purposes of testing.

On days like this, after I had wrapped up my work for the day and we’d all finished our evening repast, I would join the twins for tea. Based on their thoughts and feedback, I’d make modifications to the phone on the spot. After that, I’d bring it back to my room, tinker with it a bit more, and recharge its light orb by replenishing the expended MP. That orb served as the phone’s battery and had been modified to be rectangular in shape.

Right now, I was technically attending their tea party for one such modification session. I was sitting at their table while I worked since I needed to get their opinions, but just like the attending lady-in-waiting, I endeavored to be little more than a wallflower.

I’m sure the siblings had things they wanted to discuss as a family, since they ordinarily lived apart. Unless they spoke directly to me, I didn’t interrupt their conversation, and once the adjustments were finished, I figured I’d excuse myself right away to return to my room.

That had been the plan, at least. But today, I wasn’t a wallflower as usual. Instead, the conversation had turned to me, putting me in the spotlight...and it was super awkward.

“I’ve arrived back in Tachyrinn ahead of schedule, it’s true, but surely the reason is obvious? I received a message through the crystal ball that you were visiting from Altiuccia, Lucian,” said Prince Wald.

Prince Wald was supposed to have returned to Tachyrinn the day after tomorrow. He sipped his tea and quietly admitted that teleporting so much ahead of schedule had put the mage in charge of the teleportation portal in a bit of a bind.

Sitting side by side were the twins: both the sister and the “young man” who very much resembled her. I had absolutely no intention of laying bare the truth and dispelling the glamour that they had swapped places, however.

While the young man usually exuded an air of warmth and tranquility, today, his aura was overwhelmingly indomitable—more like that of a war god. Even his smile belied a threatening undercurrent. I doubted the deities of battle revered in Japan existed in this world, but I remembered their savage gazes.

“Did you come to invite Kariya to the capital now that the manufacturing system he set up in Tachyrinn is stable?” Wald asked and then paused in measured annoyance. “Ah, that’s not it at all, is it? You’ve come to solicit him too—to take him back to the castle as another concubine, haven’t you?”

Lucian had just expressed his desire to have me, a craftsman, visit the capital—an invitation his younger brother had shot down magnificently.

“Is there a problem with that?” asked the elder prince.

“Stop, Lucian. Kariya and Nadar Cautley are already in a relationship,” Wald said tersely.

“What?!” the princess and I exclaimed in unison.

Hold on—let’s go back to the beginning of this conversation.

Prince Lucian had arrived earlier today from the capital. Ostensibly, despite having claimed that he’d come out of concern for the war effort and his dear sister’s condition, his true goal had been to poach me, the transmigrator, and my skills for Altiuccia.

Upon receiving this information, Prince Wald had accelerated his plans and had returned to Tachyrinn from Croway much earlier than expected as well. At first, I’d assumed Wald’s rushed return was to prevent Lucian from whisking me away on professional grounds, but apparently, he had come to stop his brother from hitting on me.

But the reason was that Nadar and I were in love with each other? That’s not true at all. I tried to object and shook my head emphatically to punctuate.

“Ah, let me explain,” said Princess Catharine, pressing a finger against her temple. “Lucian has long since made his preferences for men public. Furthermore, because he cannot manipulate magic, he cannot use the Ivory Veil, and therefore he has been removed from the line of succession for the throne.”

Huh? Was that why? I thought it was because of the circumstances of his birth.

Catharine continued her explanation. “So, given that he cannot use magic himself, it’s unlikely that any child born of his line would be able to use magic either. Therefore, he’s decided never to take a bride. And, well...he’s mentioned that he always liked men more than women anyway...”

“Besides,” Wald interrupted, “Lucian, I’ve heard from the vice captain of the royal guard that you’ve already laid claim to several people, including a court mage, a squire, and even one of our regular merchants! You really mustn’t cause more trouble for us by taking Kariya as well. Besides, we’ve already established that he was a woman in his past life and is being treated as such. It would be outrageous for you to take him as another of your amorous conquests!”

Lucian looked at Wald incredulously. “He’s a woman? Ah, wait, but didn’t Nadar already have a kept man?”

Catharine shook her head. “So it’s been rumored, but it seems that Nadar already released the man from his protection. He’s a freedman, and he could even marry if he were so inclined.”

“P-Princess Catharine,” I wheezed, silently pleading she would change the subject and save me from this conversation.

She averted her gaze, sidestepping any responsibility for the psychic damage being inflicted on me, and further elucidated. “While polygamy is permitted in this world, monogamy is known to be what transmigrators practiced in their past lives. So, should anyone take a female transmigrator as their wife, they must treat her as their principal partner. The adventurer’s guild has ruled that having any lovers aside from a female transmigrator is strictly forbidden. Male transmigrators, on the other hand, are known to have generally accepted our customs and therefore have no restrictions on the number of wives or concubines they may take.”

Men have been starting harems?! Come on, guys! Just because this world is based on a video game we played doesn’t mean you can unleash your fantasies on everyone!

Prince Wald had been nodding along with his sister’s commentary and turned to face his brother. “And now that we’re all apprised of the situation... Lucian, if you still want to take him for your own, you’ll have to bid farewell to all your current lovers, or the adventurer’s guild will protest. But not only that—if your intentions really are true, then you must prove your sincerity. Not to the guild, but to Kariya!”

Lucian hummed thoughtfully, but otherwise said nothing.

Catharine cut in before he could say anything. “Let me also remind you that Kariya, who is also acting as my guard due to his Jump ability, cannot leave my side. Surely you haven’t forgotten that?”

Oh, right was written on both their faces as Catharine’s admonition jogged their memories.

And that was right. I hadn’t been contracted to be a craftsman in the employ of the crown. I was an evacuation specialist in emergencies, exclusively assigned to Princess Catharine.

Nadar had asked me to protect her, and being the First Prince’s bedwarmer was definitely not included in the terms of my contract. Because of all that, with all due respect, I declined Lucian’s invitation to go to Altiuccia.

He seemed a little disappointed with my decision, but at least he accepted it.

Still, Prince Charming here is gay, huh? I guess this world really doesn’t have any qualms with men having physical relationships with each other.

“But...” muttered Wald, “are you and Nadar truly not in love with each other?”

Wald clearly hadn’t been convinced by my denial of that.

He turned his gaze to me, looking mildly baffled. “Whenever I return to Tachyrinn, you always ask about Nadar. He does the same, you know. He wants to know how you’ve been doing, whether you’re getting on well or not. And lately, I’ve noticed that when I talk to each of you about the other, you both listen with such joy and rapt attention.”

Upon hearing this, I reflexively covered my face, pressing my hands against my cheeks. They were warm. Yep, I had definitely been blushing just now. Hard, even.

But... I see... Even though we haven’t seen each other in a while, I guess this means Nadar hasn’t forgotten about me.

He does care...

“You’re in love with Nadar, aren’t you?” Wald pressed.

I bit my lip. “No, I’m not—”

“But you are interested, right?”

“I mean, I do have a certain amount of interest in him, but not romantically...” I admitted.

How could I explain the feeling in my chest whenever I thought about him? My heart would ache, but it’d be filled with such warmth. I really didn’t know how to put this ineffable feeling into words, and whenever I attempted to, I only ended up frustrated.

But I had to try. “Suppose you were caught in a magical explosion, Your Highness, and were sent from the Central Nations to the farthest reaches of the world. Tiuccia is an unimaginable distance away—so far that you think you may never return. Accepting that you’ll never see your homeland again, you spend several years living alone in another country. In that land, no one has ever even heard of Tiuccia...but then, you finally meet someone who knows about the country you’ll never see again. Someone you can talk to about your old home. Someone who can commiserate with you about your suffering and loneliness. And that someone saves you.”

Before I knew it, Wald had risen from his seat to stand beside me. He gently placed his hand on my shoulder. “My apologies, Kariya,” he said. “So Nadar’s more like long-lost family to you, isn’t he?”

His interpretation wasn’t quite on the mark, but I could tell that he was trying to be considerate. I was sure I did actually like Nadar quite a bit, but the feelings I harbored for him weren’t romantic. As long as everyone understood that much, I was more than satisfied.

Yeah, as long as everyone knows that it’s not like I want to kiss him or do the bedroom tango with him or anything... Besides, I’m not really a fan of beards. Sure, I had a beard once myself, but I can’t see myself kissing scruff...

37. The Alabaster City

As Wald returned to his seat, Lucian changed the subject.

“Well, we needn’t discuss my proclivities any further. You haven’t visited Altiuccia yet, have you, Kariya? You’d do well to visit,” Lucian said. “People say it is the finest city in all of the Central Nations. ‘Safeguarded by the Ivory Veil, the alabaster city of elegance,’ though the Veil is currently elsewhere.”

Right, I mused as I roused my old memories of the city.

The alabaster city of elegance.

Altiuccia, the capital of Tiuccia, was known as the southern opal of the Central Nations.

I’d been there several times during regular gameplay in my old life. Players specializing in physical combat would visit the city for in-game events. Being a crafter, those events had been irrelevant to me, but the city’s refined architecture had drawn me in like a moth to flame.

But unlike the game, this world had expansive locations and cities that matched reality. Unburdened by the constraints of data volume, places were no longer the simplified, diminutive locations they had once been. Here, Altiuccia must’ve been a city of grand proportions that was just as majestic and awe-inspiring as the virtual version had been.

“I’ve seen it in my past life,” I replied, “and it was a beautiful city. I remember the palace as well. Players were able to enter the throne room and have an audience with the king. I also saw the Ivory Veil once, as it was displayed behind the throne. Are such visitations permitted in this world as well?”

“From the accounts of transmigrators, the palace and its arrangements are, for all intents and purposes, the same as they were in your game. But, well...” Lucian trailed off as he considered how to explain further. “It seems that Tiuccia’s Right of Rule does diverge significantly from what you may have seen before.”

His remark brought buried memories of the game rushing back to me.

In each of the Central Nations’ palaces, there had been a raised platform behind the throne where the treasure that served as the symbol of that country was prominently displayed.

Verdurrain’s Bow was the artifact on display in the Raghion Empire. It was a bow only in appearance—its true function was to manipulate the weather in the water-starved desert of Raghion, bringing them blessed rain. The in-game lore had explained that Raghion had become a superpower mighty enough to earn itself the title of “Empire” due to Verdurrain.

In Tiuccia, the Ivory Veil had been there. Shaped like a round mirror, it housed the defensive system that protected the land. People said that Tiuccia had never once fallen into enemy hands due to its impenetrable aegis.

But as for Khrasiel’s treasure... Now that I thought about it, Khrasiel had never existed in the game. I guess that was just another one of the divergences this world made from Golden Dawn.

But I digressed.

If I recalled correctly, each country’s Right of Rule had actually been a large, interactive panel embedded into the pedestal that their national treasure was displayed upon. When a player touched the panel, they could access screens that provided information about the country’s history, population, major industries, and so on. It also had information on the royal family’s genealogy.

Considering its functionality had been so game-oriented before, I couldn’t help but wonder what it did here.

Lucian began to answer my silent question. “The Right of Rule is a record of the ruling family’s genealogy, going back to the country’s inception. The ruling family is considered to be the bloodline registered to the Heraldry that sits atop its pedestal. When new members of the royal family are added, be it through birth or marriage, their names are engraved into the Right of Rule. All of the names glow with a vivid light. When someone passes, that light fades, leaving only their name behind.

“The names of those with the right to use the royal Heraldry are inscribed with gold, while those without have their names written in white,” Lucian explained. “My name is white, but Catharine’s and Wald’s names are engraved in gold,” he remarked matter-of-factly with a gentle look on his face. He must have already come to terms with the fact that he would never be in line to be king.

Qualification for ascending the throne was determined by a person’s ability to wield the royal Heraldry. Neither the fact that he was the First Prince nor that his mother had been a concubine had affected his candidacy. It was simply the reality that he couldn’t use the Heraldry at all that had put him out of the running.

“How many names do you think still shine gold on Tiuccia’s Right of Rule, Kariya?” Catharine interjected, suddenly ending her silence. Her twin brother’s eyes narrowed at her question, but she paid him no mind and didn’t wait for me to answer either. “There are seven. Their Majesties the King and Queen, the Crown Prince and his consort, the First Princess, the Third Prince, and the Fourth Prince. And of those, there are only four who have the right to succeed the throne.”

“Sister...” Wald cautioned.

“It’s not as though it’s a secret,” Catharine retorted. “Anyone who takes it upon themselves to learn already knows. Our father and brother both must think it an affront to our ancestors to let our line die out, but the possibility of reviving our house is dubious at best. Even our very own line came to be part of the royal family through a marriage between a princess of the old royals and one of our forebears—in fact, they ceded the crown to us. If we consider what’s best for Tiuccia, we ought to abdicate the throne entirely.”

Her emerald green eyes glinted intensely. “Besides,” she continued, “if we can find another house whose members are both virtuous and have ample enough magic to use the Veil to its full strength, then I believe the throne ought to be passed to their line. What concerns me most is this: Were the entirety of the bloodline—our bloodline—registered to the Veil to die out, ownership could be easily passed to a new master. If all members of House Tiuccia with the right to succeed were to perish, then the Veil would fall into the hands of Tiuccia’s invaders. We must avoid that at any cost, and that is why I have been stationed in the safety of Tachyrinn...”

***

“His— Catharine’s speech must have caught you off guard.”

As I descended the stairs inside Tachyrinn, Prince Lucian spoke from several steps behind me.

He had planned to return to Altiuccia tonight, so after the younger members of the royal family had finished their tea party, I had offered to see him off.

After all, I had more than enough MP to manage the portal—since the system of production that I had established was stable, I had plenty of MP to spare. I would fully recover any MP I’d use now, and I couldn’t bring myself to waste the spare MP, so I figured I’d put it to use activating the portal.

I turned back to look at the handsome, dark-haired prince.

Lucian, Catharine’s half-brother, smiled weakly at me. It was clear he wasn’t sure of how to follow Catharine’s impassioned outpouring.

“The future of House Tiuccia is a topic we’ve discussed among ourselves many times before,” he said. “The ones who are in favor of preserving the status quo are my father and my brother, who is next in line. Catharine, however, thinks we should abdicate the throne. Of course, we all know that she is genuinely concerned for the welfare of our house, so both my father and brother accept her opinion as that of family.”

“Was it all right for an outsider like me to have heard all that?” I asked.

“I admit I was surprised she discussed it openly with you present, but I suppose that’s proof of how much she trusts you. She’s usually rather discreet, so it’s honestly quite curious that she trusts you that much,” he mused.

Hmm... Maybe it’s because I openly declared right in front of her that I meant to leave the kingdom once the war was over.

Perhaps she was somewhat more willing to air out her grievances with someone who wasn’t going to be around much longer. I would keep it all confidential, of course. That was basic protocol for a client.

But now that we were on the topic of the royal family, I was curious about an individual who hadn’t been mentioned at all during our earlier discussion.

“What of Prince Erinor?”

Prince Lucian pursed his lips. “If Erinor survives the rest of House Tiuccia and becomes the last of our line, then Tiuccia itself will be consumed by the Empire. But wait, I see a soldier ahead. We’d best put this conversation to rest.”

“All right,” I agreed.

We continued descending through Tachyrinn until we finally arrived at the teleportation portals. There, Lucian returned to Altiuccia.

I had the feeling he’d been casually flirting with me along the way, but I decided to just chalk that up to my imagination.

After I had activated the portal and seen the prince safely off, I used Jump to go to the entrance of my room.

I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, you know?

But I had to at least greet the guards and let them see that I’d returned to my room—otherwise, they might’ve been concerned that I hadn’t come back at all. When I raised my head, however, I found the twins staring back at me.

They were peering into the hallway through their slightly ajar door, one on top of the other. My sudden appearance must have startled them, given the surprise on their faces. Both heads, framed by their trademark golden locks, simultaneously disappeared back into their room with a whoosh.

After a moment, the soldier standing by their door greeted me. “Rest well, sir.”

“Good night,” I said with an awkward smile, ensuring that I spoke loudly enough that my voice would carry into the princess’s room. With that, I retired into my own.

38. The Girl from the Empire

There was a slice of strawberry shortcake in front of me.

There was also a Mont Blanc pastry. And a fruit tart. As well as a slice of Sachertorte and a cream puff.

“My dear sister Kariya, go ahead and take whichever dessert you like! These are sold exclusively at the adventurer’s guild headquarters—desserts made exactly the same way they do in Japan!”

Iluma, who had come from Raghion to hang out once again, puffed out her chest in pride...and, in doing so, made them impossible to ignore. Today, her hair was tied up in their usual pigtails, but her outfit was new. She wore a blazer reminiscent of a high school girl’s uniform. She couldn’t have made it herself, as she was a metalworking specialist, so maybe the guild sold the nostalgic clothing as well.

“Wow, so that means the desserts use fresh whipped cream and fruit, right? That’s amazing,” I said.

“Isn’t it?! Amazingly amazing, even! The guild has fridges and ovens too, you know? We used to have craftsmen who knew the cash shop recipes from the Modern Appliances series in Golden Dawn. If you join the guild, you can eat as many of these cakes from the old world as you want! Plus, you can live in accommodations that are fully fitted with air conditioners and showers! Oh, there’s no signal for the TV, though... But anyway, join the adventurer’s guild today! You won’t regret it, Kariya!”

My response was automatic. “I’ll think about it.”

The way she tried to recruit me—as well as my stock answer, well-honed from my time as an office worker—were all part of the same song and dance we went through every time she visited.

She dropped by twice a week. At this point, she was acquainted with practically everyone in Tachyrinn.

I chose the slice of strawberry shortcake, lifting it out of the large box of confections. She chose the fruit tart for herself and then glanced about as she fidgeted.

“Um, I guess I ended up bringing so many desserts that there’s a lot left over...but I had to, you know? I wanted you to have one that you actually wanted. But it’d be a total waste to throw the extra ones out, so I think it’d be best if someone ate them. Only because it’d be a waste to throw out, though, okay?”

Putting up a front to hide her feelings, huh? Classic.

“Would you mind if I let the ladies-in-waiting working in here have them, then?” I asked.

“Go ahead. It’d be a waste otherwise! Oh, but I think it’d be a good idea if Princess Catharine had one too. But only if you like cake, I guess,” she added, turning to the princess for a moment. “And just so you know, there’s no poison in them, okay? If you don’t believe me, then you can Analyze it too, I don’t care!”

“We all trust you here, Iluma, so we’re happy to accept. Thank you.”

Following my words, the attendants in the room thanked me for the cake one after another, like a ripple spreading out in water.

Our item production had come to a natural stopping point today, and Princess Catharine had also reached a convenient spot to leave off at her work, so we had all decided to take a break.

Blushing furiously but somehow puffing with pride at the same time, Iluma took a sip of the tea that had been brought to us.

It hadn’t been easy to get the relationship between Iluma and Tiuccia to reach this point. There had been so many complications in the beginning, especially because she had been so distrustful of this kingdom.

Because I wasn’t registered with the guild, she was certain that this kingdom had been taking advantage of me, given my rural upbringing. That had prompted her to come time and again from Raghion to pressure me into joining.

But since my post required me to stay with the princess, I couldn’t leave her office, so Tiuccia had witnessed all of Iluma’s solicitations. Despite the fact that she had by and large been terribly rude, Tiuccia hadn’t reprimanded her even once and had gracefully forgiven every slight.

However, it wasn’t as though they had simply chosen to overlook her behavior. They had likely held back on the account of the fact that she was backed by both the Raghion Empire and the adventurer’s guild.

Even Liese, someone who was usually strict about proper etiquette, had not said a single word to Iluma, despite the fact that many of the things she had said were tantamount to contempt for the princess or the kingdom.

In time, Iluma eventually noticed that I wouldn’t pay attention to her when I was busy crafting things, but to my surprise, she began to help me with my work. Once I’d complete my quota for the day, I’d listen to what she wanted to say as we enjoyed a tea break in my little corner of the room, so Iluma must have assumed that, by helping, she’d have more time to try to convince me to join the guild.

If she helped, the ladies-in-waiting and I would thank her too.

Despite being on the fence about assisting us, Iluma began to do so every time she visited. And, just as we were doing today, we would chat with her whenever we had a spot of free time.

Iluma had apparently reincarnated into this world when she was only in middle school. Now, she was sixteen years old. Despite her developed physique, she was still a relatively young girl, both mentally and emotionally.

Oh, but to be honest, my mindset was probably pretty youthful as well. Including my old life, I’d lived for over fifty years, but I’d basically never grown up. I had the feeling that I’d inherited my mental age from my old life, and that was painfully embarrassing, if you asked me.

Maybe this was just something that came with reincarnating in another world.

“You know, it’s pretty comfy here,” Iluma murmured softly. The high schooler, whose hair was tied back into pigtails today, cupped her hands around her teacup. It was filled with a mild black tea.

I said nothing and simply smiled at her as I waited for her to continue.

“I think I get why you want to stay here now, at least a little,” she said. “I thought Tiuccia was dangerous. I actually heard that all countries besides Raghion were pretty bad for players, but I don’t really like Raghion much either. People there keep begging me to marry them... I’m only sixteen, jeez.”

“People are proposing to you? I can see why; you’re charming. And in this world, it seems like women marry early.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not it, though. They just want good kids. Oh, right, did you know? Apparently, players have a hard time having children. Men straight up just can’t have kids no matter who they marry, although women can as long as their partner’s an NPC. I’ve heard it’s super hard to get pregnant, though. Anyway, it seems like a mom’s blood runs thick in her children... Some kids born to player mothers have A-tier proficiencies.”

“I had no idea,” I mumbled back. I wasn’t sure what to say.

Before I’d realized it, Iluma had curled up on herself, hugging her knees close as if she were trying to flatten her ample chest. She continued speaking, but her voice had dropped to a whisper meant only for me.

“And that’s even when the father’s an NPC. Their kids can break past the normal NPC B-tier proficiency cap. The grandkids can’t, though—apparently the blood gets too thin by then. But because of that, a lot of terrible things happened a long time ago, so the adventurer’s guild protects its female members now. If anything happens to a female player, the guild will make sure the criminals are punished to the max—which I’m sure you know already. And I know my brother will protect me too, so I don’t have to worry about getting assaulted.”

I hadn’t known, actually. Sometimes Iluma would mention things she’d learned from the guild, but since I didn’t know anything about the guild myself, they had all gone over my head.

But I did know about her brother. She’d told me about him herself, after all. He was one of the two SSS-tier combat players I currently knew of: a Godslayer who wielded the divine spear Heavensfang.

Apparently, he had died in the same accident that had claimed Iluma’s past life. After he’d been reincarnated here, he had spared no effort to find her. Once they’d reunited, he had continued protecting her ever since—even after she had grown into a young woman.

“I’ll slay every single person who makes my sister cry,” he’d once declared. And true to his word, he’d slain a nobleman of the Empire—and his entire house—after the man had attacked Iluma.

That hadn’t been the only incident either.

“I wouldn’t mind getting married if it was for love,” Iluma continued. “If a woman chooses a partner out of her own volition, then the adventurer’s guild will completely support their marriage. That’s why I don’t like getting all those proposals back in Raghion—I know those people are lying, and I hate it. And I know other guys are being gross, undressing me with their eyes or something... I hate that too.”

She explained that she’d worn the armor she had made herself because her brother had complimented her on it, and since other people had commended her as well, she felt like she had to wear it. But then, she’d started getting lascivious looks from other people.

“So that’s why I was so happy when you told me I shouldn’t wear it. And all the Tiuccians here in Tachyrinn Station are so nice. I’m glad none of the men here are gross when they look at me.”

After spending more time with her, the ladies-in-waiting had also realized that Iluma’s temperament was still rather childlike. That was why they had handled her like a sore spot at first, but now, it seemed like they’d warmed up to her enough to find her endearing.

The soldiers would never dare to leer at her or treat her rudely either. If anything were to happen to cause her discomfort, it would become an international issue. She was here as a special envoy, a representative of the adventurer’s guild in Raghion.

But...I see. So she’s happy.

This place must’ve become a place of safe harbor for her, away from sexual objectification and somewhere where she was free of her brother’s dominating influence. She must’ve found solace here—so much so that she visited more than once a week under the pretense of recruiting me.

I felt a bit as if I’d become a father of sorts, tenderly watching over her.

Noticing that I’d turned my gaze to her, she smiled joyfully. But her smile soon gave way to a solemn frown, and she hugged her knees again, crushing her bosom once more. Then, she put a hand out to beckon me closer.

“Um, so... I have something to tell you, Kariya...” She drew close to me and leaned in to whisper into my ear. Her voice was even quieter than before. “You’re worried that Tiuccia might not win the war, right? And that’s why you don’t want to come to Raghion. That’s why you’re trying so hard to help Tiuccia’s war efforts.”

“Something like that, yeah,” I deflected.

“Then...what if I ask my brother to come help? Not as part of the army or anything, but just as a personal favor. That way, the war’ll be over right away. I’m pretty sure if he helps out, the battle between the two NPC armies will be over within a day.”

Her words left me speechless. I had no idea how to respond to her.

Iluma didn’t seem to take note. “If the war’s over, then you don’t have anything to worry about, and you can come join the adventurer’s guild. You can always visit Tiuccia whenever you want too,” she said.

She also explained that she herself had been told not to visit Tiuccia while it was still at war. Were the conflict to end, she would also be in a better position to visit me whenever she liked.

“So, how about it?” Innocent and unassuming, her words were like honeyed poison.

I silently argued within myself. There was no way the war could be resolved so easily. If she were to ask her brother, and if her brother actually accepted her request and supported Tiuccia’s war efforts, I was certain this would end within moments, just as she’d implied.

And the war wouldn’t just be over. It would be an overwhelming victory for Tiuccia—and a crushing defeat for Khrasiel. That was the might commanded by a Godslayer.

But things wouldn’t end there. A war wouldn’t end without repercussions just to fulfill a single girl’s wish.

For the assistance of an SSS-tier player, Tiuccia would be vastly indebted to the adventurer’s guild—a debt so great that they could never bear its burden. But whether the debt would be settled in material assets or otherwise, Tiuccia would have to pay its dues regardless.

The world wasn’t as altruistic as the young girl believed, and although I had been the one to hear her tempting offer, I was in no position to give her an answer that would bear the weight of an entire nation.

Reflexively, I glanced about the room to look for the princess. At the other end of the spacious area, the princess, in the midst of sipping her tea, thankfully noticed that I was looking at her. Her clear green eyes silently met mine and held me firmly in her gaze, never once wavering.

I looked back at Iluma. “Listen, Iluma. How about we ask your brother what he thinks first? Like, whether he’d be willing to help Tiuccia as an ally in the first place. You haven’t actually asked him yet, right?”

She remained quiet for a moment and then nodded. “I haven’t. That makes sense.”

“Okay. So do that, and if your brother agrees, we can ask Princess Catharine if she’d like your brother’s help,” I said. “This isn’t something we can decide just between the two of us, after all. How does that sound?”

“I can do that,” she said after another long period of silence. “I’ll ask my brother as soon as I go back.”

“Thanks,” I said, offering her my appreciation.

This way, even if the SSS-tier transmigrator refused, the whole issue could be dismissed as a young girl’s personal desire rather than a request from Tiuccia. If the SSS-tier transmigrator happened to agree, then he would arguably just be doing a favor for his own sister.

And with that, perhaps Tiuccia had a third option to end the war beyond waiting for Raghion’s reinforcements to arrive or buying time until spring arrived.

I made a mental note to tell someone about Iluma’s proposal later on.

This war might even end before spring comes.

At least, that was what I thought at the time...

39. A World of Crimson: The Beginning of the End

With the princess’s lady-in-waiting as my escort, I made my way through the now-familiar corridors of Tachyrinn Citadel. After bringing Iluma down to the underground teleportation portal and seeing her safely off to Raghion, I headed to the communications room in Tachyrinn.

A comms technician called out to me and asked if I could spare a minute to take a look at a crystal ball. It apparently hadn’t been working properly.

While the conventional means of communication here was to send a message by horseback or carrier pigeon, crystal balls from Golden Dawn also existed in this world. Only transmigrators were able to craft them. Not only did the transmigrator have to be a craftsman with S-tier proficiency in creating items, but they had to have learned the recipe as well.

I, of course, had done so. As a working adult with the indomitable spirit of collecting ’em all, I had every known recipe—including paid cash shop ones—in my repertoire. I even knew the rare recipes dropped by monsters; after all, there was nothing gold couldn’t buy at the auction house. Even if they had cost a lot of gold.

Anyway, the crystal ball recipe had been one such item. But even if a player didn’t meet the tier requirement to craft a crystal ball, players of any aptitude could perform repairs. There were no restrictions on that, at least.

So, while the concept of crystal balls was familiar to NPCs and they had encountered them, only transmigrators could repair them if they were to break. And that was why I had been called on.

The reward for completing this quest was a dinner sandwich. It was actually pretty tasty.

“Hmm... I don’t see anything broken in particular.”

To do a detailed inspection of the crystal ball’s internal components, I’d removed the outer casing of the pedestal on which the crystal ball was embedded. I had just finished looking it over.

My eyes were actually glowing red right now. Instead of using Appraisal, I had used the advanced version of the ability called Detailed Appraisal. I should’ve been able to see any malfunctioning parts glowing red, but I couldn’t find any places that did so.

Since I was doing a deep dive into its internal components anyway, I replaced all its deteriorating parts with new ones. It was clear that this hadn’t been inspected in a long time, so replacing all the parts that needed to be changed out took a while.

I blinked several times to extinguish the light in my eyes.

“Since there’s no problem here, I assume the issue must be with the crystal ball at Croway,” I concluded.

“I thought so.” The comms technician—who was also a soldier—had been examining the crystal ball with me. He sighed. “It’s been happening for a while now, but sometimes, we just can’t connect to the ball at Croway. We can contact Altiuccia just fine, so I figured there must be a problem with the one out on the battlefield. Whenever we lose the connection, it usually picks back up after a while, but it just hasn’t been working since late this afternoon.”

“That’s no good.”

“You’re telling me. At any rate, we’ve sent a courier to Croway with a basic portable ball, and if the Croway ball seems fixable, they’ll be bringing it back. Sorry to saddle you with the trouble, but once it gets here, could you give it a look too?”

I nodded. “Sure thing,” I replied, and then I replaced the pedestal casing.

The outgoing courier horse might take half a day to reach our camp at Croway, but the return carriage was certain to take three days. The crystal balls that were meant to permanently reside in a spot were pretty damn heavy, after all.

The technician thanked me. He waved as I left the communications room, and I ran into an older gentleman with a familiar handlebar mustache.

“Oh, if it isn’t Kariya!”

“Hello, General Orlin.”

The eminently powerful military commander of Tachyrinn Citadel spotted me and smiled. The two knights who usually served as my bodyguards on my excursions around the fortress hurriedly bowed to him, but Orlin jovially raised a hand to stop them.

He began to talk to me with the warm grin of a friendly grandfather. “Sorry you had to work so late. Her Highness has already retired to her room on the fifth floor. You can go ahead and return to your room for the night as well.”

I recalled the conversation I had with Iluma earlier this afternoon and remembered that I needed to discuss her proposal with someone on our side who could actually call the shots.

“Oh, right,” I began. “General, would you mind if we had a short talk? There’s something pressing I need to discuss with you.”

“Something that can’t be said here, eh? All right. The room over there shouldn’t have anyone in it; let’s have our chat in there.” Nodding to me, he had the two knights stand guard in the hall as we entered the empty room.

He waved a hand in front of a lamp resting on a table, and it leaped to life. A magic flame burst alight within its confines, filling the room with light. Oil lamps and candles were what commoners used, but magic lanterns like this were Tachyrinn’s lighting method of choice.

Desks were lined up in a row, but piles of documents were strewn haphazardly on top of them. The old general shrugged his shoulders in exasperation at the sight, pulled over a couple of nearby chairs, and dropped himself into one.

“Now then, what did you want to talk about? I hope it’s nothing too troublesome,” he muttered.

I bowed my head in apology, feeling mildly contrite.

I sat in the other proffered chair and told him about Iluma’s proposal. I explained it as nothing more or less than a suggestion made by a young girl out of the goodness of her heart. Furthermore, I clarified that we hadn’t yet obtained her brother’s consent to her plan. And, of course, I told him that regardless of whether the SSS-tier player agreed to help, the final decision to accept his help would be left up to the princess or someone who otherwise represented Tiuccia’s interests.

As I described the proposal, Orlin’s face stiffened into a grimace.

Did I get way too ahead of myself?

The old man with the handlebar mustache stared at me in abject shock. Anxiety began to spread in my chest; I hadn’t expected this kind of reaction at all.

“Kariya, do you not know?” Orlin asked in bewilderment. “About the incident in Tariyth six years ago.”

“Six years ago...?” I repeated, confused.

I was certain I’d heard something about six years ago being mentioned somewhere before. It sounded familiar.

Oh, right. It’d been when I had seen the mages off as they departed for Croway. One of the knights who had been serving as my escort at that time had mentioned it, but he’d abruptly dismissed the topic of his own accord.

The name “Tariyth” also rang a bell as it was a place I’d heard of from the Golden Dawn in my old life. I hadn’t been there in this life yet, but I was pretty sure that was the name of a town in the eastern reaches of Tiuccia.

“I’m sorry, general. I’ve been living in Gaelius all this time, so I have no idea. Did something happen in Tariyth six years ago?”

“So you really don’t know, eh? I’d assumed everyone in Tiuccia would have heard. You’ve been helping us all this time...because you didn’t know...” His shoulders slumped in his seat as he bowed his head, gaze falling downward.

“General Orlin...?” I called out to him gently.

Six years ago, I had still been holed up in the mountains. Or, to be more precise, I had withdrawn from the world eight years ago. That’d been when my engagement had been broken off, and since I’d lost my place in the village I’d been born and raised in, I had retreated into the depths of Gaelius with nothing but my newly returned memories of my past life to keep me company. I had rarely come down from the mountains.

But if I recalled correctly, the village had erected its bulletin board just five years ago. That was around the time when I’d finally felt comfortable enough to show my face around the village again, and on the few occasions I had ventured down from the mountains, I had actually read some of the posted notices. Nothing in particular had caught my eye.

After that, I’d spent another three years secluded in the mountains. Had something serious happened in Tiuccia—in Tariyth, specifically—while I’d been a recluse from the world?

“Kariya,” said Orlin, pulling me back from my thoughts. “I understand you acted with good intentions when you devised that plan with the Raghion girl. But know that the SSS-tier transmigrator will not aid us, nor anyone else, for that matter. Ever since the tragedy that befell Tariyth six years ago, Tiuccia has been forsaken by transmigrators.”

I was likewise shocked. “Forsaken? What do you mean?”

But I didn’t get to hear Orlin’s response. Instead, our conversation was interrupted by Lady Liese’s voice. It was coming from the cell phone I always took care to keep at my waist.

“Can you hear me, Kariya?”

Signaling to General Orlin that I needed to pause in our discussion, I grabbed the phone and held it up to my ear.

“Yes, I can hear you. What is it?” I responded.

“I’ve received word that Iluma’s in the teleportation station, and she seems to be terribly upset. She keeps calling for you, but she also refuses to move from the portals. I haven’t any idea why she’s so shaken up, but could you please attend to her immediately?”

The general and I exchanged glances.

“You’d best hurry down there,” Orlin urged. He must’ve overheard Liese.

“Are you certain?” I asked him, unsure of whether we should leave our discussion here for now.

“I’ll go have a word with Her Highness and Liese about the SSS-tier transmigrator right now. Could you go down to the empire girl, calm her down, and send her home? Once you’ve done that, come to Her Highness’s office. The girl may tell you about a number of things, but at any rate, be sure to come upstairs afterward. I’ll explain the rest in detail there.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but I decided it was best to go along for now. “All right.”

After I let Liese know I would talk to Iluma, I ended the call. I bowed to General Orlin and headed down to the underground teleportation station with a Jump.

40. A World of Crimson: The Truth of Tragedy

When descending the stairs leading to the underground teleportation station, you first came upon a cavernous hall with a high ceiling. Lined up along the sides of this hall were smaller rooms, each with a teleportation portal set in its center. None of these rooms had doors. Farther back in these teleportation rooms were smaller adjoining chambers primarily used as Jump endpoints.

The teleportation portal that connected to Raghion was set up in one such room near the stairs. I could see a young girl with red hair tied in pigtails standing directly in front of said portal.

Right after I appeared at the bottom of the stairs via Jump, I looked questioningly at the two soldiers standing guard. “What’s going on?”

“She teleported here from Raghion just a moment ago. We know she usually goes straight up to the citadel, but this time, she hasn’t budged from that spot at all. We tried to ask her what the matter was, but she refused to talk to us—she just kept asking for you. That was why we contacted Lady Liese upstairs.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll see if she’ll open up to me, so you two can stay at your post here at the stairs.” I nodded to the guards, who assented to my decision, then went to Iluma.

Iluma was standing next to the portal’s control panel. She looked up at me as I approached—her face was scrunched up, and she was on the verge of tears. Her hands were clasped over her chest as though in prayer. She was still wearing the high school uniform-style blazer I’d seen her wearing earlier.

Large tears began to spill from her eyes. She couldn’t keep her sobbing back any longer. “Kariya,” she began, her voice cracking. “I have a request.”

“What is it?” I tried to be as soothing as possible to pacify her.

She replied haltingly, her words peppered with soft sobs. “Please, you need...to come to the adventurer’s guild—to Raghion, as soon as possible. If you still don’t want to come, then...you need to escape Tachyrinn right away.”

“Can you tell me why?” I spoke to her as quietly and gently as I could while making sure she could still hear me.

Every now and then, I would feel an inexplicably nasty premonition coming on. It struck me again now, surging from the depths of my heart with an unbridled savagery.

Iluma was sobbing softly. “In five days, I’m pretty sure...Khrasiel will attack Tachyrinn...”

“Wh—”

When did you find out?! How did you find out?! And how is Khrasiel going to pull that off?! There’s a whole army between us and them!

I bit back the questions that streamed into my mind and threatened to burst through my mouth.

Yelling at her wouldn’t help this situation at all. I reminded myself that I needed more information. I needed to know what exactly it was that she knew, so I focused on trying to gently coax it out of her.

She answered me readily, having managed to center herself enough to stave off her tears. “I’m so, so sorry... For keeping secrets this whole time... The truth is, I knew that Raghion never had any intention of sending troops to Croway. The adventurer’s guild and Khrasiel have a secret pact, so no matter how long Tiuccia waits, they’ll never receive the reinforcements they’re waiting for.”

I was equal parts shocked and confused. “Wait... The adventurer’s guild and Khrasiel have a pact? Why would that affect Raghion sending troops?”

“Oh, that’s right—you wouldn’t know, since you’re not in the guild and all. Raghion is a puppet state controlled by the adventurer’s guild. To make sure they can protect the players who were reincarnated into this world, the guild pulls all the strings in Raghion from behind the scenes. That’s Raghion’s—the guild’s—secret. NPCs can’t find that out.”

Nadar’s words of warning came to mind.

“The guild is nothing but a tool of the Raghion Empire.”

He’d gotten it wrong. It wasn’t that Raghion was using the guild. It was the other way around—Raghion itself was at the whims of the adventurer’s guild. In other words, the Empire was ruled by players of Golden Dawn.

“The players at headquarters in Raghion say that Tiuccia’s already paid the price for what it did in Tariyth six years ago, but the players in Khrasiel disagree. There are a lot of people there who don’t think Tiuccia can be forgiven. That’s no surprise since a lot of their players tend to be extremists or used to be from Tiuccia themselves. They’re even saying that this war is the punishment Tiuccia deserves for Tariyth.”

There’s that name again.

“Hold on,” I said, interrupting her. “When you say ‘Tariyth,’ do you mean that town in the eastern part of Tiuccia?”

“Huh? Sis, you...” She stared at me, baffled.

A vision of General Orlin, shoulders drooping and head heavy, came unbidden to my mind, as did the memory of people tiptoeing around me like they were walking on eggshells when I had first revealed that I was a transmigrator.

My chest was suddenly seized by an icy chill.

“Iluma, could you tell me what happened six years ago? About the ‘tragedy’ in Tariyth, from your perspective as someone from the guild.”

She hesitated for a moment, but eventually nodded. “Well... I was only ten years old at the time, so no one really told me what happened in detail, but a player—a girl—she...killed herself in Tiuccia. She, um, was engaged to another player, but while her fiancé was out of the country, someone... No, not someone, it was the king’s brother. Anyway, he took advantage of the fact that her fiancé wasn’t around and tried to force her to marry him. So, she... Yeah. Her bereaved fiancé and the guild were furious when they found out, so they destroyed the castle in Tariyth, where the king’s brother lived.”

She also explained that although the event was regularly referred to as a tragedy, the guild had stopped at destroying the castle. The people of Tiuccia hadn’t been to blame for what their royals did, after all.

Since the perpetrator had acted alone and his actions had been condemned by the royal family, Tiuccia had claimed no involvement with the girl’s death, which the guild accepted. No further punishment had been meted out at the time.

“But after all that, all of the players who were at the Tiuccia branch of the adventurer’s guild left. They moved to Khrasiel and continued planning their revenge. They weren’t happy with the fact that only Tariyth had been punished and Tiuccia as a whole had been let off the hook when one of their own had essentially been killed by the country. And even though Raghion’s in an alliance with Tiuccia, a lot of people there sympathize with the players in Khrasiel...which is why they made a pact. Khrasiel would take over Tachyrinn Station, and until then, the Empire wouldn’t intervene in the war.”

She paused there, seemingly uncertain if she should continue.

But then, in a hushed voice, she blurted out, “Some people think that it’s stupid that Tiuccia has two teleportation stations when there are no players in the country. So I think they even started the war to take Tachyrinn.”

I was speechless.

Iluma continued. “When I told my brother about the plan we cooked up this afternoon, he got mad at me. He told me to quit thinking about letting Tiuccia win the war and to stop coming to Tachyrinn because it’s dangerous. Because Tachyrinn was going to be attacked in five days, although it might be even earlier than that. When I told him about you, he told me to bring you to Raghion so you wouldn’t get caught in the attack. And he said I wouldn’t get in trouble for helping Tiuccia out all this time because he’d take care of things if anyone complained. So that’s why I came now—you have to come with me to Alraghion. Please.”

I didn’t know how to let her down. “So...you’re telling me to abandon Princess Catharine, all the ladies-in-waiting, and all my friends from Gaelius?”

“Oh!” She began to tremble.

I was certain she realized the impossibility of her suggestion. I slowly stroked her hair in gentle support as she worked through her sobbing once more.

“Thank you for telling me,” I said quietly.

She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I should have told you a long time ago! Even though they’re NPCs, I don’t want the princess or her ladies-in-waiting to die; they were all so nice to me... There’s still a little bit of time, so you should get everyone to evacuate Tachyrinn.”

“About that, Iluma... How do you know for sure they’re going to attack in five days? Did your brother tell you?” I asked.

She lifted her tearstained face to look me straight in the eye.

“I know because tonight, Khrasiel’s launching an all-out attack with two SS-tier players to take Croway. Tiuccia’s army will be decimated.”

41. A World of Crimson: Rising Devastation

“Khrasiel will attack at Croway tonight!” I shouted the very moment I landed in Princess Catharine’s office. I had Jumped there directly after sending Iluma home.

The princess was seated at her desk, wearing a spring green dress rather than her usual attire. Flanking her on either side were Liese and Orlin. Their faces hardened at my sudden announcement.

I rushed over to them to report in detail what Iluma had told me. “I heard from Iluma that the adventurer’s guild in Raghion has certain private ties to the guild in Khrasiel.” I paused there, steeling myself to deliver the grim news. “The Empire, under the directive of the adventurer’s guild, has no intention of participating in the battle. The Khrasiel branch formed a pact with the headquarters in Raghion to ensure the lands between Khrasiel’s borders and Tachyrinn would fall under their control. Only then will Raghion mediate a ceasefire.”

The reason Iluma had visited Tachyrinn so frequently had simply been that she hadn’t known about the secret pact between the adventurer’s guild and Khrasiel. She, along with the other ordinary members of the guild, had believed in a kind white lie.

“The Empire won’t intervene, not right away. They’re waiting and watching for the right time to mediate a ceasefire between Tiuccia and Khrasiel. As part of the negotiations, Tachyrinn will fall under Khrasiel’s jurisdiction,” Iluma had explained to me.

This has been a hard truth for her. She had fully believed in the fantastical dream that the hostilities would end peacefully.

She had cried as she apologized. She hadn’t thought about why our supplies were so limited, nor why Tiuccia had been so desperate to manufacture more of them, even though she herself had lent a hand in our crafting efforts.

Such were the transmigrators who had played Golden Dawn.

Considering that they still referred to themselves as players, I doubted they truly understood that this world was real and not the game they remembered. The inhabitants of this world, the ones transmigrators referred to as NPCs, were flesh and blood, just like us. They too lived in this world, having their own hopes and dreams.

Waging war here wasn’t about waiting for the result in a victory screen. In this world, humans killed other humans, all while risking being killed themselves.

Iluma must’ve realized what would happen to the Tiuccian army if Khrasiel planned on advancing their army south to reach Tachyrinn, given that Croway was between them and us.

“Even if we wait until spring, no reinforcements from Raghion will arrive,” I told them. “The western front that Raghion had supposedly deployed to doesn’t exist. Khrasiel has not split their army into a separate detachment; their entire force is gathered in Croway.”

No one replied. All three of them had been rendered speechless.

I continued with my report. “Apparently, the guild received a report stating that Khrasiel was going to launch a full-scale assault on Tiuccia at Croway tonight. All of the transmigrators belonging to the guild in Khrasiel will be participating in the battle, which includes two SS-tier individuals. Our army...will probably be completely destroyed before morning.”

Liese found her voice first. “Do you have any proof of what you say...?” she asked, voice shaking.

“We lost contact with Croway earlier this evening. The communications crystal ball hasn’t been able to connect to them. We have no idea what the situation is over there right now.”

“So, what of the Raghion girl who informed you?” asked Orlin.

“I’ve sent her back to the Empire as you instructed earlier, sir. She’s only a girl, and she put herself in danger to tell us. I thought it best to ensure her safety and send her home to her family.”

He nodded, although his face was pallid. We both knew Iluma’s brother was an SSS-tier transmigrator—the risks would be far too high if Iluma came to harm.

Catharine spoke next. “Are you certain of your decision, Kariya?” She looked up at me from her seat at the other side of her desk. Her back was tall and straight as an arrow.

“What do you mean, Your Highness?”

“You could have gone with her to Raghion—to the safety of the adventurer’s guild. Are you certain you’d rather remain here?” she asked.

Her green eyes locked with mine, and the extent of her beauty struck home once more. It wasn’t just her looks. The stunning radiance of the soul I glimpsed deep in her eyes captivated me, even though she was a great deal younger than I.

I was certain she meant to say that it was okay for me to escape with Iluma. Despite being born in Tiuccia, I was a transmigrator, which meant I was more or less a guest here. So, while she couldn’t outright tell me to run from my post and my heavy obligations, she was nudging me in her own way.

“I thought I’d given up on the world at large when I was locked away in my own little universe in the depths of Gaelius, but I guess that in the end, I’m a citizen of this country too.” I offered her a crooked smile and shrugged.

Then, I placed a small box on the desk. It glowed with a faint, pale blue light. After I had sent Iluma back to Raghion, I’d removed the core from the connecting teleportation portal.

“I took this from the portal’s control panel. Now, the teleportation portal between Raghion and Tachyrinn no longer functions. Which means...” I trailed off.

Hold on, do they even know that a craftsman needs to be S-tier or above to perform maintenance on crystal balls? Or to fiddle with the internal makeup of a teleportation portal?

Just to underscore the statement I was about to make, I pulled a small bottle out of my storage and placed it next to the portal core. It contained a shimmering gold liquid—an Elixir, the pinnacle of healing items.

“I can make these as well. To tell the truth, I’m not an A-tier craftsman—I’m S-tier.”

Even though I was just a crafter, the knowledge that they had an S-tier transmigrator on their side might give them some solace.

The fact that I’d be useless in a fight didn’t change, unfortunately. If I’d known this was going to happen, I would have pushed my proficiencies up to at least SS-tier in my old life.

Sorry, guys. I don’t have any hacker-level abilities.

“So, because I took the core out of the portal panel, no one can move to or from the Empire until it’s reinstalled. No one from guild headquarters—which includes Iluma, of course, but more so those who might have ties to Khrasiel—can infiltrate us now. This way, we can be sure that there won’t be any information leaks to the enemy from Tachyrinn.” I paused there and then decided to address Catharine’s concerns directly. “Since the length of my contract with House Tiuccia was until the end of the war, I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me a little while longer, Your Highness.”

Then, at that very moment, the ground shook.

At first, the tremors were nearly unnoticeable. But then, they intensified, and the ground continued shaking for a long while.

The glass in the windows creaked. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling swayed, and the tinkling of the chandelier’s cut glass continued unabated as they knocked against each other.

And then the shaking stopped almost as suddenly as it had started.

“We go downstairs!” said Catharine sharply as she rose from her seat. The rest of us nodded at her command.

***

The hallway lights had been dimmed for the night, but one by one, they were revived to a dazzling brightness. The citadel was soon as bright as midday as a shroud of panic settled over Tachyrinn.

“The tremors just now were an earthquake, weren’t they?” Liese asked as we hurried down a corridor.

I nodded, keeping pace beside her. “I think they must’ve been the aftershocks of a massive magical attack at Croway.”

“And they reached us all the way here at Tachyrinn...”

“Liese,” I interrupted her thoughts, keeping my voice low. “Are there really no transmigrators in Tiuccia? Not even any who attend the king or the crown prince?”

She shook her head. “None at all. Ever since the disaster six years ago, public opinion of the royal family has been in the mud. Supporters of the royal family are so few and far between that the king has personally taken to the battlefield himself. We don’t have enough mages either, which is the reason so many members of the royal family have had to travel to the field to deploy the Ivory Veil.”

“So that means there’s no one who can use Jump?”

“Precisely,” she replied.

Even in profile, I saw the look on her face harden.

“All transmigrators left Tiuccia six years ago,” she stressed. “Anyone who was around at the time of the tragedy in Tariyth knows this. You are the sole transmigrator remaining in our country.”

I didn’t know what to say.

She changed the subject. “Even were I to join the war meeting, there is nothing I can do to help. So I will attend to my own duties. Please ensure Princess Catharine remains safe, Kariya.”

Liese bowed to the princess, lifted the hem of her skirt, and hurried away.

The ground shook once more.

Startled by the violent shaking—the force of these tremors were many times more intense than the previous ones—all of the soldiers who had been rushing through the halls of Tachyrinn stopped in their tracks.

Lifting her green dress so its hem was off the floor, the princess proceeded apace, weaving through the confused soldiers.

The lovely princess was ordinarily cloistered in the upper levels of the citadel, and these soldiers hadn’t seen her in a while. They found their attention drawn to Catharine more than how the building was shaking.

After the long, golden tresses that flowed down her back disappeared from their view, the soldiers snapped out of their stupor and rushed back to their duties in a fluster.

Flanked by General Orlin, Catharine finally came to a stop in front of the room directly next to the communications room I’d been holed up in earlier. This was the space being used as our military center of command.

“What’s the situation?” she asked.

The knight who seemed to be the general’s adjutant had come running over at our arrival. He only shook his head. “Communications with Croway have been down all evening. All we can do is wait for word from the midway relay we’ve set up on the road.”

“We’ve received one just now!”

The shout had come from the technician who’d shared his sandwich with me earlier.

Cradling a basic, portable crystal orb, he rushed over from the adjoining communications room through an open doorway that connected it directly to command.

“Earlier, we sent a courier with a basic crystal ball to Croway since we suspected the main crystal ball there was malfunctioning. This ball here is the other half of the pair to the one with the courier, and we’ve received a report just now. They’re at the relay station just outside of the forest and can confirm that, from their view across Croway Plains, the enemy has initiated a large-scale night raid on our position with massive magic bombardment. Since basic crystal balls don’t have a speaker function, I’ll relay further reports myself.”

He placed the crystal ball on the desk.

With one hand, he adjusted the knobs at the base of the crystal ball’s stand. His other hand pressed an earcup of the connecting headphones against his head. He closed his eyes in concentration.

“The report’s a bit hard to hear due to the noise from nearby blasts, but... Right now, our forces are engaged with Khrasiel’s. All of the magic attacks are being fired from Khrasiel’s side. The anti-air defensive glyphs are not deploying, and their attacks are much fiercer than before. Khrasiel’s likely using A-rank or higher spells. Most are fire-based. There are columns of flame rising from all over the place, deeper in the front lines...” The technician trailed off there.

Taking the opportunity to interrupt, Orlin addressed the princess. “Your Highness, I believe we should send the cavalry unit as reinforcements. Doing so would reduce our defenses here, but even so.”

She agreed and took her seat at the head of the war table. “Even if we sent infantry units, they’d never make it in time. At any rate, we’re surrounded by forest, so we don’t need the cavalry here. Please have them depart immediately, Orlin.”

General Orlin gave Catharine a single deep bow. “I’ll need to organize the reinforcements, so I’ll be taking direct command of the soldiers from the courtyard. If news of any further developments arrives, you can contact me through my cell phone.”

I gasped. “Right, the cell phone!” The realization hit me as I followed their conversation. Although it was still more or less a prototype, I did have a test phone in Croway.

The modified cell phone was capable of communicating between Croway Plains and Tachyrinn, unlike previous models. Its only issue was that because I had been so focused on making it as compact and portable as possible, its light orb’s MP capacity hadn’t been satisfactory. So far, during our testing, I found that it would run out of MP almost as soon as it connected—if a connection could be made at all.

But if the cell phones could be supplied with an external source of MP, then reaching it should be possible.

I’d given the other half of the pair of phones to Prince Wald. If we could get the call to connect, then we could ascertain the current situation at Croway.

I informed the princess of this and immediately headed into the communications room through the wide-open door. The massive crystal ball was still set in its pedestal, which stood stationary in the center of the room.

I removed the pedestal casing I’d only sealed shut a short time ago and pulled the wiring out. Unhooking the cell phone from my waist in all of its old-school, bottle-shaped glory, I connected the wiring to my phone.

Since Prince Wald had arrived unexpectedly last night, I’d been able to give him a fully charged test cell phone this morning. The MP stored in it had yet to be used. Since the phone initiating the call was the one that used the bulk of the MP, I didn’t think there would be any problem on the receiving end.

Oh, right, Prince Lucian visited last night as well. I could recall the lively voices of the three siblings engaged in conversation, clear as anything. It’d only been about a day since then.

I spoke into my phone, trying to connect. “Prince Wald, can you hear me? This is Tachyrinn Citadel. I repeat, Prince Wald, can you hear me?”

Since the pedestal cable wasn’t very long at all, I had to kneel down to speak into it. Princess Catharine approached me as I attempted to make contact. Unlike the crystal ball, this phone had a speaker function. I switched it on so Catharine would be able to hear any responses as well.

“Prince Wald, can you hear me?” I repeated.

Finally, there was a sudden, audible click, indicating the call had connected. The prince’s voice echoed through the chamber.

“Kariya?!”

42. And Then: A World of Crimson

“Are you all right, Your Highness?! Would you be able to apprise us of the situation over there?” I asked, unable to keep the tension from my voice.

Terrible explosions could be heard through the speaker. The blasts of incoming magic missiles roused memories of cannonfire in the war films from my old life with alarming clarity.

“Hold on, I’ll put someone on who can explain better than I can— Nadar! Kariya’s connecting from Tachyrinn!”

It seemed like Wald was passing the phone off to Nadar.

A voice I found myself missing came through the phone, along with labored breathing.

“Kariya, is that you?!”

“Nadar! What’s going on over there?!” I asked.

“Khrasiel attacked us in the middle of the night. Their attacks had been less aggressive for the past three days, so we thought it’d be a good opportunity to try to deploy the Ivory Veil at once. It’d been a trap. They took complete advantage of the fact that we’d ceased fighting for the night to launch a full offensive—they’ve definitely got transmigrators over there. They’ve been raining S-rank spells on us with random SS-rank magic mixed in— Your Highness, over here!”

The sounds of magic whistling overhead and subsequent explosions drowned out Nadar’s voice. Screams and shouting could be heard from the phone, seemingly from all directions. We were getting a live feed of the chaos of the battlefield.

Nadar continued. “The enemy’s first strike must’ve hit the command center where the Veil was being kept. His Majesty would have been there with the crown prince, their guards, and the support mages. Prince Wald wasn’t caught up in it because His Majesty had arranged for him to rest ahead of everyone else, so he’s been with me; I’ve been escorting him. Our magic defenses have been completely shattered—we can’t shoot down any of the incoming attacks. Translucent magic-based walls have been popping up all over the place too. They’re making it impossible to get around.”

“Can you dispel them?”

“We don’t have any mages who can do that— No, we can’t go that way! It’s blocked off!”

The sharp sound of metal armor plates creaking against each other rang through the phone. Amid the explosions, Nadar’s voice was still audible but distant. He had clearly moved the phone away from his ear, but chaotic cries from the battlefield still managed to come through the line.

“Go west! We need to hold the line—if it crumbles here, it’s all over!” barked Nadar.

“Yes, sir! We’ll head west!” someone shouted back.

“Nadar! There’s a wall blocking the way here too!”

Wald’s voice sounded from the phone, followed by Nadar’s.

“We’ll have to go back the way we came.”

The princess, who had been listening to the exchange at my side, leaned forward to speak into the phone. “Can you use the teleportation portal?” she asked.

A ring of people had formed inside the communications room around her and me. General Orlin had also joined us, but his second-in-command was nowhere to be seen. Orlin must have left organizing the relief reinforcements in the courtyard up to his adjutant.

“Nadar,” Catharine continued, “the teleportation portal should have been established a distance away from command. Are you able to use it to evacuate with my brother?”

“Right, that. I checked earlier—the tent housing the portal is still intact, but since the portal was used just last night, it still hasn’t replenished enough MP to function. We’d kept a supply of potions and light orbs for recharging the portal in an adjoining tent, but both the reserve and the mage overseeing it have been struck down. The portal can’t be activated.”

“Use the light orb in the cell phone!” I interjected, interrupting Catharine and Nadar’s conversation. “I refilled its MP just last night. Take the light orb from the phone and insert it into the control panel. There should be enough MP in it for one teleport!”

“I see. Prince Wald, we’re returning to the teleportation portal!”

The communications room erupted into a furor.

“Contact the teleportation station! Have them check the MP for the Croway portal!” someone shouted.

Hearing the soldier’s order, I responded instead. “The portal here won’t have finished replenishing its MP either! I’ll go down and fill it myself!” It would be much faster for me to use Jump to get down to the underground portals anyway.

“Preparations to receive you guys are underway here, Nadar. Be sure to turn off the cell phone soon; we can’t afford to waste any MP.”

“Got it. Before I hang up, do you have any instructions, Princess Catharine?”

“We’re sending reinforcements right now. A basic crystal ball for communications has also arrived at the midway relay. On behalf of His Majesty, I authorize the retreat from Croway. There’s no need to defend the line any longer. Inform all the soldiers!” she ordered.

“Thank you for your wise decision, Your Highness.”

“Return to Tachyrinn for now, Nadar,” Catharine pressed.

“If I can.”

After a moment of silence, Nadar called my name. “Kariya... Thank you—for being there.” After that, he announced he’d be ending the call, and our communications ended.

“I’m going down to the underground portals,” I declared and stood from the phone, leaving it connected to the pedestal. But before I could Jump, Catharine grabbed hold of my arm.

“I’m coming with you. Orlin, I’m heading down to the portals to receive my brother. Take care of things here in the meantime!”

After the general nodded his approval, I gently placed a hand on Catharine’s back. She was ready as she’d already wrapped her arms around me, so I Jumped down to the teleportation station without any further delay.

Our endpoint was in the grand hall.

When Jumping to a teleportation station or some facility that housed a portal from the outside, for some reason, the endpoint always ended up being around the entrance. The fact that people couldn’t Jump directly to a magic array must’ve been a holdover from the game.

As soon as my feet touched the floor in the space demarcated as a Jump endpoint, Catharine broke away from me and sprinted toward the room containing the teleportation portal to Altiuccia. The minor portal connected to Croway Plains had been set up in the adjoining chamber.

I broke into a run as well, following her fluttering green dress.

As soon as we reached the small room, I immediately checked the control panel for the minor portal. I was right—its MP was nowhere near recharged. Pressing the palm of my hand against its surface, I channeled my own MP into the panel.

Once it was fully charged, the portal began to emit a low hum.

“The portal’s ready,” I said, glancing at Catharine.

She nodded. Her hands were still clutching the folds of her dress tightly.

The hum from the portal began to change. A dome of light began to form around the portal’s magic circle, rising from the bottom and covering it. The light from the bubble flared in intensity for a moment and then vanished, revealing a figure sitting atop the array.

The princess shouted. “Sister!”

“Oh, Wald!”

With that, I realized with a jolt that their magic had worn off, much like it had for Cinderella at the stroke of midnight.

Princess Catharine—or rather, Prince Wald—rushed to his twin sister. The princess in the guise of a prince raised her tear-stained face to look at her brother.

Only one person had appeared in the portal, and she was tightly clinging to something in her arms, which I immediately recognized.

Scatterbloom.

The sword of Nadar Cautley, the Master of Blades.

“Where’s Nadar...?” I asked tentatively, apprehension creeping over me.

“I... I’m sorry, Kariya. We didn’t have enough MP after all, even with the light orb from the cell phone. So Nadar left the portal to supply the control panel with his own...”

Still cradled in her brother’s arms, Princess Catharine looked up at me. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“When he sent me off, he said he would go back to the battlefield to look for my father and brother. Said they’d need someone to clear the way for them on their journey...but he left Scatterbloom with me. He told me it was meant to be passed down to his son, so he wanted me to bring it back. Lastly, he wanted me to tell you, Kariya, that he was leaving everything in your hands...”

***

In the game of Golden Dawn, there was a particular event that took place in Tiuccia.

It was a player-triggered event meant for the battle-inclined that involved the young head of House Cautley.

He’d become the head of his house after losing his father, but he hadn’t yet earned the right to wield Scatterbloom. He would awaken to his powers with the help of the player. After completing the event, the player would break past the B-tier proficiency cap and become an A-tier warrior themself, thereby setting them on the path to becoming a physical combat specialist.

Nadar’s farewell from days past echoed in my ears.

“See ya around, Kariya.”

***

I Jumped up to the spire.

Standing on the balcony, I set my gaze in the direction of Croway.

Beyond the pitch darkness of the forest, the horizon was ablaze, painted vermilion by fire. The inky night sky reflected the conflagration razing the earth, and even the heavens were tinged scarlet.

Nadar was there, in that maelstrom of fire; in that land dyed red...beneath a world of crimson I could never reach.

43. Dawn Comes After Even the Darkest Nights

I dropped to my knees on the balcony, but even so, my eyes never wavered from the burning horizon as I watched it through the gaps in the railing.

How long had I been kneeling here? I wasn’t sure.

But suddenly, the biting wind whipped at me a little less sharply. Sensing a visitor, I turned my head.

There, standing as majestically tall as ever, was Princess Catharine—or Prince Wald, rather.

He was no longer wearing a dress. His long, flowing locks had been gathered up and bound by a metal ring about ten centimeters long that sat at the back of his neck.

The young man looked out at the burning plains. “I will never forget what I see here today.”

Tears rolled down his ashen cheeks. They caught the light—both from the stars in the night sky and from the distant inferno. He made no move to wipe them from his face, however. Instead, he continued with his solemn vow as he gazed straight at the horizon.

He continued, his voice a whisper. “I’ll never forget the color of those flames, nor what I know is happening under that crimson sky. I swear, I’ll...” The wind drowned out his words as freezing gales picked up and violently tossed the prince’s golden hair and cloak about.

I couldn’t hear the oath he had sworn, but I knew.

He had sworn revenge.

We continued looking out at the plains.

“Kariya, I want to change the terms of the contract you signed with my house,” he said eventually.

It was then that he finally turned his gaze away from the distant battlefield and looked down at me. I was still kneeling at that point. Then reached a hand out toward me. Just like his gaze, his grip was firm and unwavering.

“Originally, you were to evacuate me to a safe place with Jump if danger were to ever come to me,” he began. The fact that I had helped them with their supply and logistics had been out of the kindness of my heart, and he acknowledged that. However, he wanted to change that now.

“I require all of the abilities at your disposal as an S-tier transmigrator. Please, lend me your strength until the end of this war.”

***

The war room was filled with soldiers. Dawn would soon break, but no one was resting—we needed to determine our immediate next steps.

Although the fires at Croway had yet to die down, the battle had been pretty much decided. Our army had suffered a crushing defeat under Khrasiel’s assault.

The Third Prince had managed to be evacuated to the safety of Tachyrinn thanks to Nadar’s sacrifice, but whether the king or the crown prince was still alive had yet to be confirmed.

Tiuccia had begun its frantic and disorganized retreat, but the army had completely collapsed due to the sheer number of casualties.

At the war council, I had been assigned a seat directly behind Prince Wald, who occupied the seat of honor. We were a short distance apart, which made my job simple—I could reach out and touch him in an emergency, allowing me to immediately use Jump to get us to a safe place.

I had honestly thought the king and crown prince must’ve had their own transmigrators attending them on the battlefield. I’d never even considered the possibility that I could be the only transmigrator in the entire country.

Perhaps that wasn’t quite true. I simply hadn’t thought deeply about it—if I had, I’m sure I would have realized that much. I’d already had the feeling something was off now and again, after all. But even though I’d found it strange, I had never gone out of my way to find out.

I should’ve given more thought to what Nadar had said when he’d visited Tachyrinn. Had I known there were no other transmigrators in the country, I could have planned emergency contingencies beforehand.

The door to the communications room burst open, and the technician came dashing in, holding a sheet of paper aloft.

“We have a report incoming from Altiuccia!” he yelled.

He passed the report to the nearest officer, who then scanned through the message. He turned his gaze to look directly at General Orlin, who was seated beside Wald, straightened his back, and read the dispatch aloud.

“The light has faded from the names of His Majesty the King and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince as inscribed on the Right of Rule.”

The war council fell silent at once. Struggling to keep his tears at bay, the officer continued the announcement.

“Their deaths have been confirmed.”

A muffled sob issued from somewhere in the room, but before the mourning could spread, the officer raised his voice once more.

“The eldest of House Tiuccia’s line is now the Third Prince, His Royal Highness Prince Wald,” he announced before pausing for a moment. He then shouted, “Long live King Wald!”

“Long live King Wald!” someone shouted in response.

Those seated rose from their chairs with a resounding clatter, and everyone turned to look at Prince Wald. Each one was a vassal of the royal house; all those in attendance stood tall with their shoulders squared and placed their fists over their left breasts to salute the new king.

“Long live the king!” came a resounding shout, their voices echoing in unison.

The fifteen-year-old boy did not speak. Instead, he raised his right hand slightly in a silent response to the salute. Then, without saying a word, he gestured for those standing to sit.

I could hear the soft sound of him drawing a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he began. “I take pride in knowing everyone here has such deep loyalty for House Tiuccia. But allow me to state that, while I will one day ascend the throne, that day is not today.”

The missive was handed to General Orlin, then to Wald.

Wald glanced over that one sheet of paper and began to speak again. His voice was calm. “Now that the deaths of my father and brother have been confirmed through the Right of Rule, we no longer have any reason to reclaim our lost ground on Croway.”

“Are you certain, Your Majesty?” Orlin asked.

“According to the reports from the relay, Croway is nothing but scorched land. Finding their remains will be difficult, if not impossible. I don’t want to lose any more lives, especially not after how we barely managed to save those we could. And besides, if we withdraw now, Khrasiel will bring them to us—in exchange for a large ransom, I imagine.”

Then, in a low voice only Orlin and I could hear, he murmured, “If their bodies are found at all.”

The tip of Orlin’s handlebar mustache twitched minutely, but he said nothing.

One of the advisors at the table rose from his seat. “I’d like to confirm something. How many days do we estimate it will take for Khrasiel to reach us?”

Orlin answered that question. “If we do not do anything to interfere with their march, their infantry will arrive in ten days. If they only send their cavalry, I expect them to arrive in four at the earliest. But...” he paused, and his expression darkened. “If they send their transmigrators, they could arrive tomorrow— No, they’ll be here by noon today.”

“Using Jump, huh...” the advisor mused.

I leaned forward from my seat behind Wald. “General Orlin, may I speak?” I asked quietly.

Both Orlin and Wald turned to look at me.

“I know a way to block the enemy from using Jump,” I said. “It’d only be a minor inconvenience to them in the end, but it should buy us a few days.”

“What’re you thinking, lad?”

“We can take advantage of the forest around Tachyrinn. All we have to do is cut the trees down along the road—the fallen boughs will block the way here. By doing that, they’d be Jumping into a ‘cushion’ of their own accord.”

“Pft!” Prince Wald had nearly burst out laughing and quickly pressed his lips shut. He must’ve recalled my Jump demonstration and imagined what would happen to any invaders who got caught and struggled in our trap.

For an instant, a scornful, mocking sneer that was rather unlike him came to his face. I couldn’t blame him—I was pretty sure I was wearing the exact same look.

It wasn’t possible to simply continue Jumping in midair indefinitely. At some point, they would have to alight, but the forest surrounding Tachyrinn was thick. The only place that could be confirmed safe by sight from the air was the road, so if we removed that option by blocking their view of it, any would-be invaders would have to give up on teleporting here.

Orlin nodded. “That’s what the transmigrator says. It’s worth trying, especially since it’d be sure to delay their cavalry as well. The main problem with this is that our own soldiers are retreating on that road as well. The wounded aren’t likely to move very quickly, but we can’t abandon them.”

“Didn’t we receive a report from the relay about the number of soldiers who managed to retreat?” asked Wald.

At that question, a man who appeared to be in charge of collating the reports slowly got to his feet. His eyes never left the stack of papers in front of him. “By the latest count, fewer than five hundred have made it to the rendezvous point. While we expect more to arrive before day breaks, I believe it is unlikely we’ll see more than two thousand survivors in total.”

“What?! We had ten thousand soldiers stationed in Croway!” someone cried out.

“They were all wiped out in a single night...” another muttered.

A chill gripped my heart once more. Were Arowa and my old Gaelius platoon safe? I’d given them the scent sachets to ward off monsters. Had they been able to use them to escape deep into the Black Forest?

Prince Wald nodded at the man’s explanation. “Send supply wagons immediately to assist with the retreat for the wounded. Use all the supplies we have at the relay stations. Burn any weapons or armor that we can’t use, but leave the provisions. We can buy a little more time if Khrasiel slows down to collect whatever we’ve left.”

He then issued orders to begin cutting down trees along the road in order to mask the path.

“Transmigrators can’t use Jump at night. So, during daylight hours, we’ll have soldiers who can walk on their own make their way through the woods near the road. During the evening hours, we’ll clear a path through the trees and debris on the road to allow the wagons to pass through. I want you all to commit to saving every soldier. Bring everyone back to Tachyrinn.”

“Are we going to meet the Khrasiel forces here, then?” an advisor asked.

“No,” the youth replied, shaking his head. “We will abandon Tachyrinn Citadel.”

44. Burn Your Bridges

Tachyrinn was to be forsaken.

Everyone in the citadel had begun to prepare for the evacuation following Prince Wald’s pronouncement.

Tachyrinn had originally been designated as a supply depot for our forces in Croway, given its convenient location at the rear of our army, but it wasn’t a citadel in the truest sense of the word. While it did have high walls to defend itself against monsters nesting in the surrounding forest, it hadn’t been designed to weather military sieges. Its accommodations could only handle about a thousand people, so conscripts were garrisoned outside its walls. Merchants had also set up their stalls in the area.

But, despite the fact that it wasn’t a military facility, Tiuccia had a reason it needed to defend Tachyrinn at all costs—Tachyrinn was a teleportation station. It was connected to both domestic and international portals, making it an integral hub for transporting people and freight.

Right now, most of the portals couldn’t be used because Tiuccia was experiencing a shortage of MP potions, but those that were still active were important routes to deliver supplies to Tachyrinn to eventually reach the front lines.

If Khrasiel were to take Tachyrinn, they would break the seals on the portals connected to locations abroad and use it as their own logistics hub to bring in soldiers and supplies.

They’d be able to bypass Croway, which would serve as a natural buffer zone as it transformed into a swamp during the spring to fall, ordinarily rendering it impassable. With Croway a non-issue, Khrasiel would be in a position to move directly on Tiuccia—which was almost certainly their plan.

But now, Tiuccia had me—an S-tier Item Master.

If I used my abilities to remove the cores from the control panels, the teleportation portals would cease to function. That would be a shame.

Actually, while I’m at it, I think I’ll remove all the other important parts too...

I’ve heard that destroying teleportation portals in the Central Nations was strictly prohibited, but who could fault me if the portals were “under maintenance” during an enemy attack and we had to flee while they were down? It wouldn’t be like I had broken them. Their parts would just be elsewhere.

With Tachyrinn Station functionally inoperable, Khrasiel could go ahead and take it. Then, Prince Wald, General Orlin, and whoever else could pressure Raghion into mediating a ceasefire.

Tachyrinn would fall under Khrasiel’s dominion. Until that happened, Raghion would not intervene—such had been the secret pact between the adventurer’s guild in Raghion and Khrasiel. And now, Tiuccia didn’t have the wherewithal to continue fighting.

So, the plan was to let Raghion know on the sly that we were aware of their pact and press them into ending the war.

Raghion was not actually allied with Tiuccia as an individual state. Known as the western superpower of the Central Nations, the Raghion Empire had in fact formed an alliance with the Southern Bloc, which was a collective of nations that included Tiuccia.

Khrasiel, on the other hand, belonged to the Northern Bloc. Were the pact between Raghion and Khrasiel to be made public knowledge, the Empire would lose the trust of every country in the Southern Bloc.

To avoid that, Raghion would have no choice but to intercede and mediate a ceasefire. At least, that seemed to be the plan. As I was nothing more than a commoner, I didn’t know anything about the political arena and the power balance between nations here.

The Southern Bloc had never existed in Golden Dawn. And while the effects of consumables and artifacts—whatever had been categorized as “items” in the game—had remained the same, I knew that other things, including the value of currency, were drastically different in my new reality.

Yeah, that’s right. This was all real now.

This wasn’t a game where developers would come fix bugs or rebalance egregious problems if things were broken. This was real life.

***

“Please, Wald. Come with me. Let’s go back to Altiuccia together.”

Standing atop the teleportation portal to Altiuccia were Catharine and Liese. The head lady-in-waiting had wrapped her arms around her charge supportively, gently holding the princess as she sobbed.

The young girl had escaped from the hellfire-razed battlefield alone, losing her family on the burning plains. Too weak to even stand on her own, Catharine reached a trembling hand out to grasp her twin brother.

“Everyone’s died,” she said. “Our father, brother, and even Nadar; they’re all gone. I don’t want to risk losing you too. So please...”

“Catharine.” The young prince, who was standing outside the magic array on the ground, returned his sister’s gesture, squeezing her outstretched hand softly. “They stood valiantly on the battlefield, so we mustn’t let their sacrifices be in vain. Our house has ever been atoning for its crimes, but we must at least ensure the soldiers who are struggling to arrive at Tachyrinn can escape safely from here. If I were to flee first, then the past six years and their deaths would have been for nothing.”

“Oh, Wald...” Catharine whispered.

The ladies-in-waiting who were gathered around the princess on the portal wept quietly.

I’d come to see Princess Catharine off as well, but I also took a moment to surreptitiously survey our surroundings.

Right now, the noncombatants who had been at Tachyrinn were evacuating through the multitude of portals at the station. Although the room we were in—the one which contained the portal to Altiuccia—was relatively quiet, the other portal chambers were bustling with activity. Supplies that were too valuable to leave behind were also being teleported out of the citadel alongside people.

There had been a surplus of MP-filled light orbs meant for the front lines, but now, they were being repurposed to fuel the mages handling teleportations around the clock. I didn’t think any of them had taken any breaks.

If there was a silver lining to this, at least the orbs didn’t cause nausea as potions did. Unlike the bottled liquid, the contents of light orbs tended to vanish in no time at all, as if it’d all evaporated. This, of course, made it impossible to store them for long (despite how expensive they were to make in the first place), so it only made sense to use the orbs up.

The teleportation portals that connected to other countries had been rendered unusable as I’d already removed their cores. They were now safely stored in the boxes stacked up high in the same portal as Princess Catharine.

As the other portals completed their evacuation operations, I’d remove their cores in turn. This portal to Altiuccia would be the last to be shut down. Then, being the last person remaining here after seeing Prince Wald safely back to the capital, I would remove the final core.

After that, instead of casting Jump, I’d use Return to evacuate. The only problem with this plan was that my home point was way back at my secret base in the depths of the Gaelius Mountains. It’d take me a long while to hoof it to the capital. But by the time I got there, maybe Tiuccia and Khrasiel would have gotten around to penning an armistice.

“Liese, please watch over my sister,” I heard Wald say, banishing my train of thought.

“As you wish. My deepest apologies for evacuating before you, Your Highness, but we shall take our leave now.” Liese then nodded deeply in deference to Prince Wald.

But Princess Catharine, still tearfully pressing her cheek against Liese’s chest, could only shake her head reluctantly.

“Kariya, sir?” called a lady-in-waiting. She had been last to enter the portal space, and now she took a step toward where I was standing. “Just to be sure, could I verify the procedures with you?” she asked. “Once we arrive at our endpoint, we’ll need to remove everything from the vicinity of the portal within half an hour because teleports are conducted every thirty minutes, right? And once the final teleport is completed, we’ll need to place this talisman you gave us on the control panel to seal the portal, correct?”

“Right on both counts,” I replied. “While we plan to disengage all of the portals here, Khrasiel might have their own transmigrators repair them once they take Tachyrinn. So, just to be safe, make sure all of the endpoint portals in Tiuccia are sealed off.”

“All right. We have a lot more MP than most since we made all those light orbs, so we’ll Jump to the other portals around Tiuccia and help with the evacuation. We don’t have enough mages to go around anyway. I’ll personally be heading to my father’s demesne to handle the portal sealing there,” she said, mustering her courage.

Since teleportation portals were inherently magical artifacts, they didn’t require an incantation to activate. Anyone could use one, provided they had enough MP. Since I had taught them how to handle the teleports, I was sure they’d be able to manage.

“We’re deeply indebted to you for explaining what to do, sir. Thank you ever so much. Please, take care of His Highness.”

I nodded. “You all should be careful as well.”

Softly letting go of his sister’s hand, Wald stepped back from the array. Catharine continued to sob and was likely to do so for a long time yet. At Wald’s signal, I activated the teleportation portal.

A low rumble echoed in the chamber, and a golden bubble rose from the array to envelop the portal’s occupants in a shining dome.

“Wald!” Catharine cried out.

“Don’t worry, Catharine! I promise I’ll return to you.”

The golden dome disappeared. The portal was now empty.

With a lowered head, the prince took in a deep breath. Then, he raised his head to look straight at me. “Please begin preparing another teleport to Altiuccia in thirty minutes.”

“As you wish,” I replied.

Then, to my surprise, he walked toward me. I had thought he’d be returning to the upper floors of the citadel immediately. We were planning on operating separately since I was the only one who could manage the teleportation station. If anything were to happen, we would contact each other via cell phone, and I would Jump to him if needed.

Speaking of cell phones, Princess Catharine had refused to part with the prototypal model I’d been working on, so I let her keep it. The phone that dangled at my hip was the old model.

“Kariya,” he said.

“Your Highness?”

I looked down at the prince standing before me. He had been lovely in a dress, but even now that he had traded in his light makeup and gown for princely attire, he boasted incredible beauty.

His charm wasn’t simply because of his looks. It was his resolve and ethos that truly made him breathtaking. And although he was only fifteen years old, I couldn’t think of anyone more suitable for the great responsibility he now shouldered.

“Take care of things,” he said simply, then took his leave.

A slow, easygoing smile spread across my lips. This was our little act of defiance.

There was no way in hell I’d leave anything worth something in Tachyrinn. I was going to utterly destroy its functionality as a teleportation station.

I’ll dump water all over the remaining provisions, fill the wells with trash, and if I wasn’t allowed to destroy the portals themselves, I was going to make damn sure that their control panels were completely empty before handing this shell of a fortress over to those bastards.

We had four days until Khrasiel arrived.

Now, let’s begin our humble, insignificant act of defiance.

45. Rise of Tragedy

I walked through the silent, empty corridors of Tachyrinn Citadel.

The massive paintings that had previously adorned the walls were all gone. They had been removed and transported back to Altiuccia.

I had originally planned on sending every last piece of furniture away, but that would’ve been inexcusably stressful for the mages who were keeping the portals running.

Besides, soldiers who had escaped Croway were beginning to trickle into Tachyrinn. Getting the wounded back to their hometowns was of utmost priority, so we didn’t have the time or MP to waste on moving worthless furniture.

Soldiers had been loaded onto wagons and transported here with only the most basic of emergency measures taken to save their lives. I’d increased the amount of potions being produced at Tachyrinn, but it clearly had not been enough. To make things worse, we had precious few people well-versed in healing magic.

Although the lower levels of the citadel, as well as the surrounding area both inside and outside its ramparts, were bustling with people and activity, the upper floors were deserted.

I was meandering through the soundless, empty halls searching for him.

He wasn’t there.

Strange. He should be here...

Maybe I should call for him; shout his name.

It was quiet enough, though, that I hesitated to shatter the silence.

A feeling crept over me that perhaps I was the one who was lost. But that couldn’t be right. I was the one doing the searching. He was the one who wasn’t here. And yet...

I stopped in my tracks and, standing in a hallway bereft of any other soul, I called his name aloud.

“Heeey, Nadaaar!”

But although I was sure he’d shout back, I received no response.

He had to be around here somewhere. Convinced of this, I peeked into a room that had been left unlocked and open. I did the same with every room I passed.

Nadar wasn’t anywhere. But he had to be here somewhere.

Filled with confusion, I poked my head into yet another room—and that was where I found it.

Resting on a table in the middle of the empty room was a familiar blade.

Oh, right.

Nadar was gone.

***

I woke up in the small nap room I’d been provided.

Yesterday, the upper floors of Tachyrinn had been sealed off. The ladies-in-waiting had already left, and since Prince Wald had moved his personal chambers down to the lower floors as well, there was no one left to occupy the ladies’ quarters.

Even if he were to show up now with two glasses and a bottle of wine, his entry upstairs would be barred.

Tears I hadn’t noticed I’d been crying trickled down from the corners of my eyes, wetting my ears. I buried myself under my blanket and took a moment to wipe my face before sitting up.

This morning marked the fourth day since we had lost Croway to a sea of flames.

At this point, we were skirting danger by remaining in Tachyrinn—we were honestly better off abandoning it soon. However, there had been no end to the stream of soldiers who had managed to return here from Croway.

Even though the window in this room was located fairly high up on the wall, it still let in the bustling din from outside.

My clothes had gotten somewhat disheveled in my sleep. Straightening myself out, I picked up my jacket from where I’d laid it out over my blanket and pulled it back on. I could tell my feet were a little swollen, probably because I’d gone to sleep without taking my boots off, so I drank a potion first thing after getting out of bed.

It didn’t make me feel any less hungry.

I untied the ribbon binding my hair and carded my fingers through the strands to tug the knots out. I paused for a moment, feeling the frilly white fabric in my hands, but tied up my hair again and quickly finished my morning routine.

Thinking I’d have a quick, simple breakfast, I had just left the nap room when someone called out to me.

“Why, if it isn’t Kariya. Good morning, lad. You look to be heading off to breakfast, so how about you let this old man join you?”

I turned to look in the direction of the voice. “Oh, General Orlin! Good morning. I’d be happy to have breakfast together.”

The mustached man smiled softly at my greeting, though even that couldn’t quite dispel the exhaustion from his face.

After a long moment, he spoke as though he’d just remembered something. “Ah... Now that I think about it, I still haven’t had the chance to explain what had happened in Tariyth to you.”

Orlin arranged for our meal to be sent up to an empty room near the war room. There, we broke our fast with only each other for company. As he sipped the steaming after-meal tea that had been brought up once we’d finished our food, the general spoke in a low, grave tone, as though he were admonishing himself.

“Did the Empire girl tell you what had happened?” he asked.

“She told me what she knew from her perspective, yes. But I’d like to hear Tiuccia’s side of the story as well.”

“It’s not as though it’s a secret. Just a shameful incident for us all. There’s no use discussing what happened, so no one will bring it up if they can help it. Either way, I’ll let you judge for yourself who was in the right.”

The steam rising from his tea dampened his mustache as his gaze drifted into the distance.

“Six years ago, the Fourth Prince, Erinor, was sent to the Raghion Empire under the pretext of studying abroad. He was six years of age at that time. Tiuccia hadn’t had any disputes with any of our neighbors for a while, so the situation had been deemed stable. Incidentally, an old friend of House Tiuccia—you might know him as the master-at-arms who tutored Nadar and His Majesty in swordplay—had passed away some years prior, but even so, Tiuccia got on well with their branch of the adventurer’s guild.”

Returning to the topic of Erinor, Orlin explained that the convenience of the teleportation portals had convinced the king to arrange a diplomatic visit to Raghion.

If any issues were to arise, the teleportation portals would allow him and his entourage to return to Tiuccia immediately. So with the young crown prince, Nadar, and a select few transmigrators from the Tiuccian branch of the guild in tow, the king had sojourned in the Empire to strengthen the two countries’ political ties. The intention had been for the trip to last half a year.

Orlin’s eyes crinkled with a touch of nostalgia as he continued his story.

He had personally remained in Tiuccia at the time, so he had been able to observe the entire disaster from start to finish from the crown’s perspective.

Back then, the king had a younger brother. Though the prince had been many years the king’s junior, he had been diligent in his support for the royal family. His wife had passed away young, but she had left him a single son. Betrothal had been promised between that boy and Princess Catharine.

Then, he met her. A certain young woman—a transmigrator.

“From what I could tell, they seemed to be quite intimate with each other. Even back then, the state of the royal bloodline and its few heirs had been a concern, and the prince had been eager to revitalize it. He courted the young lady quite ardently, and she herself didn’t seem to mind his advances. Together, they painted a charming picture,” he explained.

The prince had then brought her back to Tariyth, a town under his governance. Some time much later, he returned to Altiuccia with great excitement—a child had taken root in the woman’s womb.

As His Majesty was still in Raghion at this time, the prince had reported the news to his brother by way of crystal ball and then had the young lady’s name engraved on the Right of Rule as his wife.

“It was that night...that she chose to take her own life. Then, following that, we discovered that she had been betrothed to another transmigrator.”

“Are you saying no one had known she was engaged?” I asked.

“Aye, that was the way of it, though the guild thought us liars. House Tiuccia was thrown into turmoil after that; it was well and widely known that the guild would take punitive action in any event involving a woman of their own. Though the prince had not done the deed himself, he feared her suicide would be ruled an act of violence by the guild, and so he held a council at his castle with other members of the royal family to determine what ought to be done. Then, during those talks, transmigrators attacked Tariyth in reprisal.”

The general closed his eyes in remembrance. “The stars rained down on Tariyth Castle that day...”

He continued. “I saw the sight with my own eyes, having been en route from Altiuccia to Tariyth at the time. The prince, his son, all the royals in attendance and their escorts, and even all the servants who worked in the castle perished. Their attack left not a single person alive. All told, there had been two hundred and forty-five people in the castle. And two hundred forty-five people died in an instant, in the name of revenge.”

I vividly recalled the bright way Iluma had tried to reassure me as she’d explained what had happened.

“While the event is regularly referred to as a tragedy, the guild stopped at destroying the castle. The people of Tiuccia weren’t to blame for what their royals did, after all.”

Back in the world of Golden Dawn, NPCs weren’t living, breathing people. They were just AI, run by computer code.

But this world wasn’t a game.

Had the guild been fully aware of this, yet still chosen to carry out their “punishment”?

Had those damned “players” really understood the weight of their actions?

“Every Tiuccian who had borne witness to those events had been killed in the guild’s act of retribution, so the truth of the matter has long been lost to us. But it was still a fact that a transmigrator woman had lost her life in our care, so Tiuccia accepted full responsibility. The country officially apologized, and we did what we could in reparation.”

“As for the guild, remarkably, they had transferred the old master-at-arms from his responsibilities at the branch in Tiuccia, putting it under the administration of the SS-tier transmigrator who had been the woman’s fiancé. But that branch didn’t remain in operation for long—displeased by their headquarters’ decision not to punish Tiuccia any further after the tragedy at Tariyth, all transmigrators withdrew from our lands. It seems that now they’re intent on carrying out their ‘justice’ from Khrasiel. They claim that the woman’s soul will never find peace unless the entirety of House Tiuccia is eradicated.”

General Orlin’s shoulders drooped as he hunched his back. He looked to be no more than a tired old man, aged well beyond his years.

He didn’t speak for a long while. When he found his words again, he sounded as desolate as he looked. “Tell me, Kariya... Have we really committed such a terrible crime? I’ve heard there’s a saying in your old world that whosoever saves a life saves the world, but whosoever ends a life has destroyed it. At any rate, after what happened, Tiuccia lost face on an international level.”

He continued. “Our own people were quite unhappy as well, claiming that we had invited punishment from the gods for the fool prince’s ploy to claim the girl as his own. Of course, the crown had also offered reparations to the citizens who had lost their loved ones in the attack on Tariyth, and the king and crown prince had been working tirelessly ever since to atone for the house’s crimes. But we have not yet earned forgiveness, not even after six years. Are our sins truly so great?”

***

I was standing in front of the gates of Tachyrinn, watching the line of soldiers from Croway stream into the citadel grounds.

Maybe Nadar wasn’t dead.

What if he’d managed to escape and was still somewhere out there?

Maybe he’d been injured and he couldn’t walk very quickly. Or perhaps he was being carried here on one of the wagons.

I didn’t have time to be watching the wagons roll in like this. I needed to head down to the teleportation station right away and get to work.

In my dream last night, I had believed him dead. I knew the odds of his survival were slim to none.

But maybe, just maybe...

“Kariya!”

I turned to look toward the familiar voice with a start. “Bondaughn?”

Riding in a damaged covered wagon, a young boy covered in soot and dirt waved at me.

At the sound of my voice, other familiar faces peeked out of it. It was the group of mages I’d seen off a long time ago.

“You’re safe!” I exclaimed.

“All thanks to the present you gave me! We used it to cancel the enemy’s magic for a few minutes, which nullified the walls they’d erected to trap us. Everyone near the rear of the battlefield was able to escape!”

His face crinkled as a smile spread across his face. He looked like he was about to cry.

“After we escaped, we helped the troops from the relay stations defend our rear as we escorted the wounded soldiers back here. You can assume we’re the last to return from Croway; there shouldn’t be anyone else coming after us.”

He paused, then looked at me apologetically. “I’m sorry. We tried to get back here as quickly as we could, but we couldn’t make it during the night. Since we were in a rush, we cleared the blockage from the road all the way back. If the enemy realizes it, they might send transmigrators this way.”

“No, that’s fine. I’m just glad you made it back safe and sound, Bondaughn—”

“Ka...riya...?”

I heard a hoarse voice calling my name from deep within the wagon.

Peering into the dim gloom inside, I could see several soldiers laid out on the wagon’s floor. There were so many that they almost looked more like a pile of bodies.

Ash, blood, and the stench of charred flesh assailed me as I looked inside.

The soldiers were groaning in pain. Their potion supply must have run out. From among them, I caught sight of someone’s arm reaching toward me.

“Do you know him, Kariya? These are all people we managed to bring back, but they all need treatment right away.”

I knew Bondaughn was talking to me, but his words didn’t register. Not right now.

I gingerly retrieved a high potion from my interdimensional storage and put it down. With trembling hands, I uncorked the bottle and poured it over the man who was reaching for me.

Because a while had passed since the time he was injured, and because he had only been able to receive partial treatment, his wounds closed oddly, leaving him permanently disfigured. This wasn’t something a potion could fix—only healing magic could restore him. Or maybe not even that.

The man, with one eye crushed and half his face scorched, repeated my name as he spoke once more.

“Kariya... Has Nadar returned...to Tachyrinn? He’d been with...His Highness, on the battlefield... I’d gotten separated from them... Did he...make it back...”

This man, who’d been Nadar’s milk brother, looked up at me. His words died on his lips when he saw my face.

I had known from his voice that he wasn’t Nadar.

The outstretched hand that had been reaching for me fell back to his side.

Tears began to stream down from his one remaining eye.

On the morning of the fourth day after our crushing defeat at Croway Plains, we had completed evacuating all rank and file military personnel from Tachyrinn Citadel.

46. Sworn Allegiances

Curtains and sheets had been torn into thin strips, and those had been tied intermittently to ropes near the ceiling that hung across the length and width of the room. It was almost like you were standing in an ocean of swaying seaweed.

Pushing the cloth aside to move past was a little annoying, but the fabric instantly turned the space into a trap for would-be Jumpers, much like a spider’s web.

The snare was simple, but no one in Tiuccia’s military had heard of this strategy before. Maybe they hadn’t needed to, since up until now, they’d probably considered transmigrators allies.

But for this battle—and in my eyes—transmigrators were clearly the enemy. If they were willing to strike without a shred of mercy, then I was going to show them the same savagery. My trick might have been no more obnoxious to them than a buzzing fly, but it was still better than doing nothing.

The hastily constructed ceiling trap stretched from the entrance hall to just past the bottom of the stairs that led to the teleportation station. I hadn’t had much time, so that was as much as I could manage.

I examined the suspended strips of cloth from the corners of my eyes as I led Prince Wald down into the underground hall. Our destination was the teleportation portal that connected to the Cautley lands—the fief that had been governed by Nadar Cautley, in other words. According to the lore in Golden Dawn, a fief’s name was derived from its governing house.

That portal had already been dismantled and its core had been removed, but I had repaired it earlier. A lone man patiently stood atop the array, waiting for me to arrive—Gwyn, the man who had been Nadar’s milk brother. Half of his face was wrapped in white bandages. He’d undergone treatment, but I suppose it just hadn’t been possible to heal all of his wounds.

Noticing that Prince Wald was approaching the portal with me, Gwyn dropped to one knee.

“Nadar saved my life,” Wald said, acknowledging the man’s sacrifice to save his sister.

Gwyn replied without hesitation. “Nadar was Your Highness’s swordmaster, as well as a loyal subject. It is quite natural for a master to protect his disciple, and for a vassal to protect his liege lord.”

“As soon as we return to the capital, I will reward his loyalty and devotion. But first, I ask you to return this to his family,” said Wald.

Gwyn’s remaining eye opened wide upon seeing Scatterbloom in the prince’s outstretched hands.

“He really is gone...” Gwyn’s hands trembled as he took the sword, and he clutched it tightly to his chest. Tears dripped down from his one remaining eye and splashed against the array, wetting it, as he struggled to suppress his sobs.

Gwyn lifted his head. “Please... If I may have a request, Your Highness!” Though he was pleading with the prince, his gaze was fixed firmly on me. “Once you’ve returned to the capital, might you send Kariya to the Cautley lands?” he asked emphatically.

Wald nodded. “For the new head’s trial? I am aware of it.”

I guess the Nadar Cautley event is a thing here too. Even the prince knows about it.

“House Tiuccia will do everything in its power to assist the new head of the Cautley family,” Wald said before looking at me. “Kariya, once the news has settled down at House Cautley, could you pay them a visit?”

“Of course,” I agreed.

Gwyn lowered his head in a bow, but otherwise he didn’t move. His hands were still gripping Scatterbloom tightly. “I thank you.”

I approached the portal control panel, and at Wald’s nod, I activated it. “Starting teleportation.”

Facing the dome of light that had surrounded the portal, Wald raised his voice and called out into the chamber. “My deepest gratitude to Nadar, my swordsmaster! And my deepest regret, for failing him as a disciple—”

The bubble of light disappeared.

Wald clenched his fists as he stood before the now-empty array.

General Orlin, who had been standing on guard outside the portal chamber, now approached us. “Your Highness, we must attend to our own preparations for departure to Altiuccia at once. We have precious little time remaining.”

“I’d prefer to remain until the last. I want to see that all of our soldiers are evacuated safely,” Wald whispered.

Orlin’s reply was equally as gentle. “You’ve done more than enough for us by staying all the way till this day, until this very moment.”

As I listened to their quiet exchange, I set about the task of removing the core from this control panel again.

I really should have made the prince leave Tachyrinn a long time ago. As it turned out, deactivating the portals in turn severely increased the load on the remaining active portals. The mages had kept those portals running day and night without stopping to rest, but they were at their limits.

We had to have the soldiers who could still walk evacuate on foot. The portals ended up being reserved exclusively for soldiers who had been badly wounded, but there were so many of them that sending all of them off had delayed the prince’s return to the capital significantly.

Oh yeah, now that I think about it... At the beginning of the war, I figured if push came to shove, I would just escape on my own. But here I am.

General Orlin approached me as I worked. He must have had his men handling the prince’s guard.

“Kariya, the retreat seems to have been delayed,” he stated.

“Right,” I grunted as I slammed a foot against the control panel to forcefully tear a part out of it. “Sorry, I’ve just finished with this one. Nearly all of the portals have been sealed now, except for the one to Altiuccia.”

I tossed that part into my Pocket Dimension, feeling a little guilty for being the cause of the holdup.

With that, all of the functioning portals had been dealt with. I ignored the portals that had been broken and rendered unusable—I didn’t have the time to mess with them.

At the general’s urging, I headed alongside him to the large chamber that housed the portal to Altiuccia.

While we walked there, I explained the situation to Orlin. “You’re right; we’re a bit delayed. We just don’t have enough mages,” I said. “All the light orbs have been used up, and we don’t have many MP potions left. We’d kept a stock of MP portions on hand at Altiuccia’s side of the portal, but they’re nearly gone as well. The next time we can activate the portal is probably in twenty to thirty minutes. After that, it can’t be used for at least another six hours.”

Orlin silently considered my words for a while. “That means...we’ll have to ensure His Highness is sent back to Altiuccia on the next trip. My men and I will remain here for the final teleport. It’s our duty to defend Tachyrinn, after all.”

“So all we have left to worry about is whether Khrasiel’s transmigrators will arrive while we’re still here,” I mused.

While I discussed this with the general, I mentally reviewed the plans for evacuating the people who still remained here. Given the number of people who hadn’t left yet, we would have to activate the portal to Altiuccia at least two more times.

Right now, Bondaughn and the other mages who had just returned from Croway were running low on MP and were recharging the portal with what little they had left. It would fall to me to make sure that everyone could leave here safely. Then, I’d remove the core from the portal and use Return to teleport myself back to Gaelius.

Unlike Jump, which cost a lot of MP to cast, Return could be used as long as the caster had any MP remaining. That was because it was an ability that could be learned at any proficiency level.

The real problem we were facing now was that it’d already been over four days since our defeat at Croway Plains.

Khrasiel’s transmigrators, or even their cavalry, could arrive at any minute—

“Crap.” I couldn’t stop myself from vocalizing my surprise.

Unlike in Golden Dawn, convenient pop-up windows with important messages didn’t exist in this world. Instead, I had heard that mysterious voice that was only audible to the person it was directly contacting.

It echoed in my mind as I confirmed my escape route.

Return cannot be used.

“General Orlin!” I urgently hissed in a low whisper. “I believe Tachyrinn’s been surrounded by the enemy. I can’t use Return.”

“Are you certain?” he whispered back. “That spell can’t be used in enemy territory, if I recall. Does that mean they’ve taken control of this entire area?”

“That’s right. I can still use Jump, so all I need to do is teleport out of the besieged area. After that, I can cast Return to escape. The only problem is—”

“Khrasiel will launch their attack soon,” he cut in, finishing my thought.

I nodded. “I’ve set up an alarm that’ll sound off if the gates are breached.”

“Then let’s buy us some time,” he responded firmly.

As we arrived at the teleportation portal to Altiuccia, I noticed Wald was already there. He had clearly finished changing his attire for the trip and was awaiting us on top of the portal.

His return to Tiuccia would be the arrival of the land’s new king. He must’ve thought it best to dress appropriately for his station before his subjects. He was wearing deep green regalia resembling a military uniform with a cape draped over his shoulders. At his waist hung a longsword. Lastly, the Heraldry he never removed in public, the Royal Diadem, rested atop his head.

I shook myself from my admiration, reminding myself that we had no time, and hurried to the control panel to help the mages refill its MP.

General Orlin, on the other hand, walked over to Prince Wald. He must’ve been explaining the situation, seeing as how the younger man’s refined face stiffened.

Wald closed his emerald green eyes, and a few moments later, I heard a single quiet word leave his lips.

“Please.”

“By our swords,” Orlin responded.

General Orlin and his men were lined up before Prince Wald. They drew the swords from their waists and, gripping the hilts tightly, thumped their chests.

“For King Wald! For our homeland!” shouted the general.

“Long live Tiuccia! Long live King Wald!” echoed his men.

The knights turned around and began to dash away, their armor clanging as they ran. Just as they exited the portal chamber and approached the stairs, a high-pitched, oscillating ringing began to reverberate through the air.

The alarm I had set up at the citadel gates had been tripped.

“Don’t let a single enemy soldier get to the underground!” roared Orlin.

At his command, the knights charged through the low-hanging cloth and up the stairs.

Bondaughn, who was standing at my side, turned to look at me. He was noticeably tense. “Sh-Should we go up to help once we finish refilling the portal MP?”

He and the other mages were pallid, but the enemy’s attack wasn’t the only reason. They must have been feeling the potion sickness set in—they’d been drinking MP potions for a while now. The mages were already nearing their limits, especially because they hadn’t been able to get any decent rest between when they’d retreated from Croway and now.

“No. Go ahead and get into the teleportation portal now,” I said tersely.

“But Kariya—”

“All of you have already worked more than enough. But the portal at Altiuccia still needs to be sealed, so I need you to save your strength for that.”

The youth hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

I wanted to pat him on the head to reassure him, even just once. But I couldn’t remove my hand from the control panel, so I spoke to him as gently as I could manage.

“I swear I’ll head over afterward, so go on ahead to Altiuccia,” I said. “Now hurry!”

The sounds of battle could be heard ringing down from the stairs that led to the teleportation station. The alarm, however, had stopped. Someone had probably destroyed it, given that it’d been loud and annoying.

After ensuring that all the mages had gotten into the portal array, I checked the control panel.

This portal should be operational if I keep charging it for another twenty minutes.

Some of that time had already been shaved off, thanks to Bondaughn and the other mages, but we were still short of MP. If we could remove some of the weight being teleported, then maybe we’d have enough...but there was nothing left to remove. The portal had people in it and nothing else.

I activated the light orb attached to the bracelet on my wrist and replenished my MP. It was my very last one that I’d saved for an emergency.

Just a little longer. If General Orlin could just buy us a little more time...

The cloth hanging around the stairs was blown away by the blast of an explosion.

***

The man executed a perfect, model Jump. He’d cleared his intended endpoint with magic and then warped.

This man confidently strode directly toward the room containing the teleportation portal to Altiuccia, as if he’d known its exact location. He wore the Levinlord’s Armor, an SS-rank piece of defensive equipment. The greatsword strapped to his back was also an SS-rank weapon from the same set of gear. He wasn’t wearing a helm, so I could see that he had short, ashen hair.

“It’s been six years since we last met. You’ve grown, Prince Wald.”

“Sakita,” Wald said plainly.

The man who had abandoned Tiuccia six years ago narrowed his stormy gray-blue eyes.

47. A Falling Star

Judging by the equipment he was wearing, I knew this man named Sakita must’ve been a physical combat specialist. That’d make him one of the two SS-tier transmigrators from Khrasiel. Considering the reports we had received from Croway, the other SS-tier transmigrator should’ve been a magic combat specialist.

Sakita had a rather brawny physique, but his looks were relatively plain. In a world full of gorgeous men and women, his ordinary features were more rare than anything. He also seemed to be a bit older than me. If I had to guess, I’d say that he was in his late twenties.

He slowly approached us and stopped just in front of the portal.

In that instant, a surge of air struck me with tangible force. He’d used Intimidate—an ability unique to combat specialists.

Intimidate restricted the actions of lower-tier opponents and inflicted multiple debuffs on them. It could do all that without the user needing to chant a spell.

Since I was a craftsman, I had boosted my mental stats, so I managed to resist its effects. However, the mages in the portal had taken the brunt of the attack and began dropping to their knees one after another. The only people who managed to stay standing were me and Prince Wald, as his Heraldry had prevented the mental attack from taking hold.

For a brief moment, Sakita turned to look directly at me before turning his gaze back to Wald. I’m pretty sure that single glance was a cast of Appraisal.

Although I wore an accessory that blocked unwanted appraisals, it didn’t work because the difference between our ability levels was just too steep. He must’ve decided I wasn’t even worth eliminating.

I managed to resist the textbook effects of his Intimidate, but I hadn’t exactly gotten away unscathed. My teeth were chattering, and my knees had nearly given out. I was clinging to the control panel to stay upright.

So this is the power of an SS-tier player.

I was technically S-tier, but that was only when it came to crafting. My combat proficiency had been capped at B-tier. Sure, my combat skills were enough to detect and strike the weak points of monsters of my tier in Gaelius, but they were nothing against someone of this caliber.

Sakita wasn’t paying any attention to me. I pressed my trembling hands against the control panel and resumed channeling my MP into it.

Just a little longer, and I’ll have this portal working.

He continued to ignore me and addressed the prince. “I recall you once had a player as your tutor. You must have studied history under him, so you’re aware, yes? If players—especially women—are harmed, then the adventurer’s guild will spare no effort to utterly crush their enemy.”

The Yuliana Empire, which had been situated in the center of the Central Nations, had made an enemy of the guild in the past. It had long since been destroyed.

My eyes widened when I heard Sakita’s words. There had been an empire in Golden Dawn called Yuliana. The northern part of Croway Plains, which was now under the jurisdiction of Khrasiel, had been where Yuliana once existed.

However, it had been a massive, sprawling empire. Khrasiel couldn’t possibly have taken control over its entire territory. That meant the old empire’s lands must have been divided and parceled off once the nation had fallen.

“Yuliana had used its players as tools. Not all players are highly proficient, after all. And Yuliana had targeted those weak players who were no different from you NPCs. Men were collared and enslaved, and women who could bear children suffered an even worse fate. The guild had tried to negotiate, but Yuliana broke every one of its promises.”

Sakita continued. “The NPCs of this world are nothing more than scum, and that’s why the guild spent the entirety of fifty years seeing Yuliana obliterated. Its rot was torn out, roots and all. Now, the former capital of their lands is nothing but a cursed ruin, haunted by spirits of the damned. And you did learn all this as royalty, didn’t you?!”

“I did,” the prince affirmed, neither objecting to nor denying any of Sakita’s claims.

The larger man took a deep breath to calm himself before saying more. “She was an E-tier player. Just a girl who had, on a whim, registered an account in an MMO and had forgotten entirely about it. She’d passed away before she’d even graduated from high school. When she’d been reincarnated in Tiuccia, she’d been overjoyed. Your country had been one of the good ones; with the old master managing player affairs there, players were able to live good lives. But after he passed away, your kingdom showed its true colors. She said she wanted to come with me to Raghion! But it was you people who stopped her from going!”

The prince said nothing.

“I left her—my fiancée—in Tiuccia when I accompanied the royal entourage to Raghion, all because you refused to have an E-tier player in your company. And because of that, she died. Perished with a child she never wanted.”

The pressure from Sakita’s Intimidation flared.

I guess the Heraldry’s resistance wasn’t all-powerful—Wald’s face was growing pale. But still, he stood undaunted.

“A female player had been abused and died as a result. Of course the guild would seek revenge! If they had stayed their hand, we’d only see a repeat of Yuliana. But they wanted to keep the damage to Tariyth because they had, overall, accepted your house’s excuses that they hadn’t been involved. I had once believed Tiuccia’s apology myself—out of respect for the fact that this was the country our late master had loved.”

He must’ve been referring to the SS-tier transmigrator who’d taught swordsmanship to Nadar and the king. The old master-at-arms was clearly well-respected, both by other transmigrators and by NPCs. That was why Sakita and the other transmigrators at Tiuccia’s branch had once been willing to let things go.

Then, Sakita continued. “But I heard from a player who’d been invited to the crown prince’s wedding last year that the name of the king’s younger brother had been removed from the Right of Rule. But because your house couldn’t stand the shame, her name had been struck from it as well...as if none of it had ever happened at all.”

Wald was silent as he considered his response. “My father had decided it was too painful to continue seeing the name of his own family as a criminal. But that hadn’t been the only reason; my grandmother, who passed away two years ago, had also wished for the names to be erased.”

“You sully her name further by considering her a criminal?! In the end, none of you ever repented for your sins! You simply swept everything under the rug. I won’t put this to rest with just the king’s brother—I’ll strike all of House Tiuccia’s names from the Right of Rule!” Sakita snarled.

“Heeey,” someone shouted from afar. “You’re getting way too heated, boss. Revenge is a dish best served cold, you know?”

A metallic clanging reverberated through the air. Clang, clang. The sound grew louder as it approached. The erratic noise must have been from something metal getting kicked along the ground.

Both Sakita and Wald looked like they were waiting for the source of the clamor to arrive. I snuck a glance at the control panel out of the corner of my eye as I continued pouring MP into it.

Just a little longer and it’ll finally be ready... All right!

A young man rolled an object around with the toes of his boots as he stepped into the chamber containing the portal to Altiuccia.

His long, orange hair hadn’t been tied back and instead fell freely around him down to his waist. He didn’t wear metal armor. Instead, he was dressed in rather stylish clothing. But his attire, hair, and porcelain skin were splattered with red. A bloodstained scimitar casually rested over his shoulder.

This man, looking to be about twenty, grinned. “Ha ha ha! I was thinking of putting this on and playing at being royalty myself, but I guess equipping it’s a no-go for anybody it’s not registered to.”

“Y-You!” Wald’s voice shook with open fury.

“Hey, princeling. Do you happen to know whose this is? The king’s? Or the crown prince’s? I kinda went overboard and ground even their bones to dust, so I’ve got no idea myself.”

The man kicked the crown one last time. It came to a resounding stop.

“You bastard!” Wald cried out. He pulled his sword from its sheath at his waist and charged.

The second the young prince leaped from the array, a golden film enveloped the portal space as its load had been lessened.

A shout erupted from my throat. “Your Highness!”

There was a wicked smile on the orange-haired man’s face. Realizing that he was about to swing his sword back, I instinctively cast Jump, wedging myself between him and the prince. Turning my back to the man, I threw my arms around Wald as if to catch him as he dashed forward. I hugged him tightly to protect him.

Then, the moment the blade came down across my back, I died.

***

“...riya! Kariya!”

“Figures you were wearing a revive accessory. You can make stuff for free, after all, so it makes sense you’d be using one. Gotta say, I’m pretty damn jealous, sheesh. But...”

My consciousness had faded, but it was slowly returning.

After all, my body had been sent flying, and it’d only stopped when it had crashed into the chamber wall. Though my vision was still hazy, I could see that the teleportation portal was empty.

Prince Wald, however, was in my arms.

The Revive Bracelet hidden under my sleeve had taken effect. But in the short time between the bracelet activating and my consciousness struggling to rouse itself after I’d come to—

“Have another taste of death.”

The man kicked me over so I was facing upright and plunged his sword through my heart. I died once more.

***

“And he’s back again, no surprise there... Hey princeling, did you know that we players can revive up to twice in a single battle as long as we have enough revive accessories? Everybody should wear two.”

Slowly, the man’s voice registered in my ears.

“It’s just common sense, Your Highness,” he sneered with an edge of mockery. “But you know what? Two’s the limit; there is no third revive. Maybe ’cause of that saying, ‘third time’s the charm’? But listen—this world ain’t as nice as the game. He went through all that trouble to come back to life, but since he’s still got a sword stuck in his gut, he’ll die for real now.”

“Ghg!” Blood gushed out of my mouth.

I hadn’t felt any pain during my revival after I’d died, but now, it burned through my entire body all at once.

Prince Wald was sitting on the floor, cradling my head.

I looked down at the source of the scorching pain and saw the man’s scimitar jutting out from my gut.

Oh.

I couldn’t think. My mind was getting hazier by the second from the pain. This guy was a real nasty piece of work. He clearly enjoyed torturing people weaker than him.

If he’d left the sword in my heart, I probably would’ve died instantly after reviving again. But he had gone out of his way to stab me in the abdomen after that to give me a slow death.

I’d never actually tested the efficacy of my Revive Bracelets despite making them myself—I’d been too afraid. But it looked like they had worked perfectly.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the man was right. Golden Dawn had certain safeguards in place to keep accidents from happening if a player’s character had overlapped with something upon revival. But I guessed in this world, just as with the cushions during the Jump demonstration, a blade embedded in my body wouldn’t just separate itself from me when I came back to life.

I gasped, forcing my fading consciousness back to reality. The conversation around me continued even as I lay dying in their midst.

If I don’t do something, I’ll bleed out and die. Should I take a healing potion from my Pocket Dimension? No, there’d be no point. I wouldn’t be able to use it right away since I’d have to uncork it first. They’d notice me doing it. Besides, I still need to get this sword out of me.

“So you remember Sakita’s name, but not mine?!” the orange-haired man yelled. “There’s no space in that pretty little head of yours for some S-tier player, huh? It must be nice living in your privileged ivory tower!”

“Yde,” Sakita interrupted. “Six years ago, this prince was only nine years old. You would’ve had to have business at the castle to meet him. You didn’t have the rank back then.”

“Tch.”

I can’t heal myself. So, at the very least...I’ll figure out how to get Prince Wald out of here. Tachyrinn’s already surrounded by enemy forces. I can’t escape with Return. I’m heavily injured. Even if I try chain warping with Jump, they’ll catch up to us right away. They know we can’t escape. That’s why, after everything’s all said and done, these bastards are still toying with Wald.

Deep in thought, my hands shaking, I touched Wald’s arm as he held me. He’d been looking up at the two transmigrators as he sat on the floor, but now, his gaze dropped to me as I lay in his arms. In his emerald green eyes, I could see the reflection of a bloodied man—me—smiling gently.

“Hold...on...” I managed to cough out.

Gasping, Wald immediately realized my intent. He clutched me tight. The moment I felt his grip on me, I cast Jump.

I teleported us a short distance away to the room adjoining the Altiuccia portal chamber. We were hidden in a blind spot from those two transmigrators, so they wouldn’t find us immediately.

The sword was still lodged in my gut, and the recoil from Jump caused it to widen the wound. Even as I continued to cough up blood, I activated the portal to Croway Plains from inside its array.

Since the endpoint on the Croway side had been destroyed, I hadn’t bothered to remove this basic portal’s core. It had only ever been used for Prince Catharine’s visits to Tachyrinn, so its MP was still almost fully charged.

That mysterious voice echoed in my mind.

Your destination portal is unavailable. If you continue to teleport, your destination will be randomly selected. Will you proceed?

> Yes

No

A moment passed, and the darkness around us gave way to a soft, white light.

Where am I? I have to use a potion right away. Wait, no. Before that, I need to...pull...the sword...out...

My consciousness faded away, as if melting into that light.

48. Intermission II

In a small room in Tachyrinn Station’s underground, Sakita looked down at the basic portal stained with blood.

According to an ally stationed at the adventurer’s guild headquarters in Raghion, a player who had never registered at the guild had appeared in support of Tiuccia. The reports had described him as a male, A-tier, non-metal crafter. If that were the case, then he wouldn’t pose much of a threat...or so Sakita had thought. But they had met unexpected resistance at Croway Plains, turning what they’d initially judged to be a swift victory into a long, arduous war effort.

Tiuccia should have been low on supplies as its trade routes had been put under pressure and compromised. But miraculously, their situation had improved. Consumable supplies had arrived at the front lines from Tachyrinn Station.

It hadn’t been difficult to guess that the unknown crafter had employed the apprenticeship system to teach abilities to a large number of NPCs and thereby improved their mass manufacturing capabilities. Furthermore, he had prioritized quantity over quality.

They’d seized matériel that’d been en route from Tachyrinn Station to Croway Plains. Aside from boxes that had been trapped with a mechanism that caused them to break when opened, all of the supplies had been low-quality light orbs.

When filled with MP, light orbs became an adequate replacement for potions. They wouldn’t cause sickness like potions did, so it was possible to use them in bulk. The only issue was that the materials required to create orbs were expensive and required a certain level of crafting ability. The minimum required proficiency was A-tier, meaning that it was essentially impossible for NPCs to create them.

On top of everything else, even if the light orbs were densely packed full of MP, their contents would disappear over time. Because of all these restrictions, light orbs were typically only used by high-tier players engaging in short battles. They were bespoke items boasting great efficacy with the price to match, much like works of art.

But these had been deliberately made at a lower quality.

That decision had been a pragmatic one by someone unconcerned with conventional wisdom. Since NPCs didn’t have large MP pools to begin with, low-quality light orbs were more than enough for their use, even if the orbs wouldn’t retain their MP for long. NPCs only needed to use them up before the MP evaporated.

If the crafter had disregarded profitability and made the orbs himself, then as far as Tiuccia’s needs went, light orbs would have been the correct choice over potions. The man who had been standing next to the control panel for the Altiuccia portal must’ve been said crafter.

The image of a young man with long, black hair and an olive complexion came to Sakita’s mind. He was alluring and had a rather unique air about him, unlike himself—Sakita’d been born with a perfectly ordinary visage.

“Oh, so here you are, boss.”

“Yde.”

Sakita’s companion had cleaned the splattered blood off himself and changed into casual clothing. He was poking his head into the small room.

Yde was one of the players who had abandoned Tiuccia in solidarity with Sakita. Six years ago, Yde had been sixteen years old and had remained in Tiuccia during the royal entourage to Raghion. Sakita himself had been twenty-two then.

The orange-haired young man, who was now twenty-two himself, looked down at the portal array and the pool of blood. He snorted.

“They sure made a clean getaway, huh?” Yde remarked, then glanced at Sakita. “Any idea where they’ve gone?”

“No. This portal’s connected to Croway Plains, but since the Croway portal’s broken, they would’ve been teleported somewhere random.”

“D’ya think that’s what he was going for?”

“Probably. We had them cornered, but he took advantage of the system to escape. Smart man.”

Yde shrugged at Sakita’s words. “Are you saying you’re impressed, even though he’s the enemy? Well, you ain’t wrong. He really did throw us for a loop, eh?”

All of the portals in Tachyrinn Station had been rendered useless, and owing to traps on the road and both inside and outside the station, Jump couldn’t be used either.

“Because of all the crap all over the place, four of us got caught, and I’m willing to bet none of them are of any use anymore. They’re too scared to use Jump at all now—especially the one guy who really overlapped with shit. He’s totally broken from the trauma. Well, he was only B-tier, and that was after proficiency-boosting equipment, so I’m not surprised.”

Sakita didn’t have anything to say, but if Yde had noticed, he made no indication and continued talking. “Hey, boss, didn’t the guild ban obstructing Jumps?”

Sakita was silent for a moment. “That man wasn’t a member of the guild. I doubt he knew.”

“But Jump itself is still a guild secret, right? Oh, damn...” Yde groaned with no small amount of dramatic sarcasm. “If he taught NPCs about Jump, I guess we’ll have to kill all the NPCs. Y’know, for the safety of the guild and all our player friends. But it looks like I’ve already killed pretty much all of the Tiuccian NPCs who knew anyway.”

Yde snickered as he relished the memory. Sakita gave the young man who was clearly enjoying himself a cold glare.

Yde was an S-tier player who was the exalted leader of a group known as the Radicals. Since this world was so similar to Golden Dawn that he considered it to be, in fact, the same world, Yde had declared his intention to live the same way he had played the game in his old life, and he did so with abandon.

Sakita had responded that Yde ought to head to the edgelands instead of sticking around in the Central Nations if he truly considered the world to be that of the game. There were other players who considered this world they’d been reincarnated into to be a continuation of the game, after all. Many of them had departed for the untamed edgelands and, even now, persisted in fighting powerful beasts.

But Yde had claimed to be more interested in the war-related events that the game had hosted than in hunting monsters. Sakita thought he was a cowardly weakling, too afraid for his life to take risks.

Sakita figured the Radicals were just a bunch of selfish kids playing out their own desires in the safe confines of the Central Nations, keeping their atrocities limited to what the guild was willing to overlook.

But despite originally being a moderate group, once they’d moved from Tiuccia to the nearby Khrasiel, Yde and his followers had begun their rampage.

There was no one at the Khrasiel branch to stop them. And while Sakita was in a position to keep them contained, he had been fanning the flames instead.

For letting her die, I will destroy Tiuccia, no matter what it takes.

His fiancée had been his goddess.

In his old life, he’d passed away without knowing the love of another. He hadn’t had any friends or partners, and leveling his character in Golden Dawn had been his only goal in life. But, unfortunately, he had died before he managed to reach SSS-tier.

Then, in his new life, he hadn’t been blessed with stunning good looks like other ex-players. But despite everything, she had chosen him. She had been his very first sweetheart, either in his past life or in this one.

“So, boss. What’re we gonna do about that little princeling? The crafter’s basically dead, but the prince still got away.”

“If he ended up in a nation on good terms with Tiuccia, he’ll return,” Sakita said. “When he does, all we need to do is push our invasion all the way to the capital. But if he teleported somewhere else...since he’s royalty, we’ll know if he lives or dies from the Right of Rule.”

“Oh, so does that mean I can go play a little game of hide-and-seek?” Yde asked with a grin. Though he was just as handsome as the many other gorgeous players, the smile that came to his lips was repulsive. “Now that we’ve taken Tachyrinn, our NPC soldiers are gonna make headway on Tiuccian ground, right? Taking care of that sounds like a pain in the ass, so I’ll leave that to you. I bet hunting the prince down will be way more fun.”

Sakita turned Yde’s proposal over in his mind. The young man didn’t seem to understand the state of the teleportation station—or maybe he didn’t care.

“Tachyrinn’s portals have all been destroyed. With the state this station’s in, there’s no way we’ll be able to move a large army through here. Winter is almost over as well, so Croway will soon be underwater. A full-scale invasion will have to wait until next winter.” Then, Sakita’s tone darkened. “Until then, do whatever you want.”

“My thanks, boss,” said Yde, tone as cavalier as always. “I’ll bring his head back as a souvenir, just you wait.”

“If you can,” Sakita grunted back.

Yde left the small room with a spring in his step, but Sakita didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, his eyes remained transfixed by the pool of blood on the portal.

Was this war truly just?

A thin-lipped smile came to him.

It had to be. The guild deemed Tiuccia guilty of wrongdoing. To trust in the adventurer’s guild was to trust in righteousness. An enemy of the guild was an enemy to all players.

However...I know what I’m doing is wrong. I turned Croway into a sea of flames out of a personal grudge. I became the reaper of so many lives—my own damned heart feels like it’s bleeding out.

But even so... I don’t regret this.

“If it means I can avenge her, I’ll even sell my soul to the devil.”

***

He remembered that, when they’d first met, he’d been drawn to the myriad of colors intricately intertwined with the green of his eyes.

The young man had laughed as he claimed that he’d rarely ventured from the depths of the Gaelius Mountains, but his comportment was neither provincial nor servile.

He had possessed dignity and fine manners, both of which had apparently come from his past life, but he hadn’t tried to curry favor with Wald. Instead, he had treated Wald with an unaffected friendliness. He’d been like a distant elder kinsman, or perhaps even a sage invited from another kingdom.

His warm gaze and subtle acts of kindness had brought him endless comfort. While Wald’s heart had ached terribly to have seen his own flesh and blood off to the battlefield, this young man had been his solace.

And, were an emergency to arise, they were supposed to have escaped together with his Jump.

Perhaps that was the reason that, before Wald had even noticed it, the man had become someone irreplaceable in his heart. This man was someone he could trust with his very life.

Not only was he handsome, but he was also broad-minded and magnanimous. He had always accepted requests from both the ladies-in-waiting and soldiers without a hint of distaste or refusal. And, although he was older and responsible, there were times when Wald had found him adorable.

But Wald and the young man hadn’t been particularly close. Both of them had been well aware of their social statuses.

Whenever the man passed him by, he brought with him a not at all displeasing scent of grass.

And whenever Wald looked up and their gazes happened to meet, the young man’s eyes would gently crinkle. They’d twinkle warmly, and the slightest slip of a smile would play across his lips.

He had always accompanied Wald, following after his charge from behind.

But now, his green eyes were closed.

His typical grassy scent had been drowned out by that of blood. The stench of the bright-red liquid pouring from his body choked the air.

When Wald blinked again, he found that they were no longer within Tachyrinn Citadel.

Instead, he was still clinging to the young man inside in a small room filled with a uniform white light.

It was a peculiar kind of lighting that didn’t require a source—it was characteristic of buildings that had been constructed using a transmigrator’s abilities. Given the size of the room, Wald estimated that it was one of many small-scale establishments scattered about the Central Nations that housed teleportation portals.

They had traveled here, to this small array fixed at the center of a compact building, by way of the basic portal in Tachyrinn.

Crimson liquid slowly spread out over the circular portal, consuming it. Wald drew the young man’s unmoving body close to his chest in a tight embrace.

“Kariya,” he whispered. “Open your eyes...”

Kariya’s long, black hair that had once been tied with a white ribbon stuck to his cheeks, wet with blood and thrown wild.

Wald freed his arms from around the young man. The palms of his hands and Kariya’s black hair that fell between his fingers were all stained in a vivid red.

He grasped the scimitar and tore it from where it’d been run through the man’s torso.

More blood began to gush out of him. Wald grabbed the end of the cape he wore about his shoulders and pressed it against the open wound.

“Wake up, Kariya! Please!”

Despite his desperate pleading, the young man’s eyes remained closed. Slowly, his shallow, lingering breaths eventually ceased.

Not a soul was around to hear the young prince’s sorrowful, heart-rending wail.

49. We Meet Again

I’ve been playing a game as of late.

Actually, three whole years have passed since I started playing an MMO called Golden Dawn.

Recently, I’d set my home point to the edgelands and was focusing on playing out there, but today, I was hit with nostalgia for the Central Nations. As I walked past the stately buildings, I had the impression that it wouldn’t hurt to come back and visit once in a while.

I must’ve picked an empty server, though, or maybe I was just playing during off-hours. As I made my way through the winding upper floors of Tachyrinn Station, I didn’t see a single other player in the vicinity.

Actually, there weren’t any NPCs here either.

I stopped and crossed my arms in consternation. Aside from me, the corridor was completely deserted.

“Did I lose my way?” I muttered to myself.

I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t even sure where I was.

Well, I guess it wasn’t really a surprise. The only places in Tachyrinn Station that were supposed to be accessible were the first-floor hall and the underground station. I’d never seen any walkthrough websites mention anything about the upper floors of the citadel. This was probably my fault for wandering around when I didn’t have the map open.

As I mentally chided myself for being so careless, I raised my left hand to shoulder height. Nothing happened. I was trying to open a system window, but the panel that I expected to pop open in midair never appeared.

“Huh? What the...” I shook my hand in the air, but still there was neither sight nor sound of the semitransparent panel I was trying to open.

“What are you doing, Kariya?” inquired a familiar voice.

I turned around. “Nadar!”

There, in the previously empty hallway, stood an older man with a scruffy five o’clock shadow. He was dressed in a casually unbuttoned military uniform.

His heavy-lidded purple eyes, which gave the impression that he was half-asleep, narrowed in exaggerated exasperation.

“Come on now, you’re obviously lost,” he said. “I came to fetch you.”

“Sorry for the trouble...” I hung my head.

“Well, all these hallways look identical, so I don’t blame you. Follow me.”

As I trailed behind him, I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

Nadar came looking for me. Oh man, I’m so happy.

I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but I might’ve been feeling a little anxious since there wasn’t anyone around. But even though Nadar must’ve had his hands full, he had gone out of his way to find me.

I hadn’t noticed it earlier, but my character’s complexion had changed without my noticing. My skin tone had gone from a fair porcelain to a rich olive. I could tell that the white ribbon he’d given me to keep my dark hair bound was swaying in time with my light, bounding steps.

The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, but my anxiety had been dispelled. I mean, Nadar had come for me. He was sure to lead me to the exit.

“Hey, Kariya, listen...” Now walking alongside me, the older man smiled softly. “I’ve walked my path in life guided by my master-at-arms and other people who came before me. And just like they did for me, I’m showing you the way now.” He paused in reflection and then shook his head. “No, I don’t think I’m leading you—it feels more like we walked our road together. You’ve done so much for me, after all, and I never paid you back...”

Oh, no, not at all! I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s done so much for me! I’m just an ordinary commoner who happened to become an officer!

But for some reason, I couldn’t get the words out. Clenching my fists inside myself, I shouted as loudly as I could—in my heart.

Nadar laughed as if he’d heard me anyway—he looked tickled pink.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling. “Anyway, now it’s your turn to give a hand to those who follow you. Show them the way. That’s what keeps the world going.”

The endless hallway was gone.

We were now in a world of white. The only thing here was a single door that stood before us.

Still smiling at me, Nadar slowly opened the door. A bright light with shimmering motes of gold and white streamed through the crack in the doorway. The middle-aged man with his unkempt scruff looked at me warmly as he was enveloped by that radiant light.

“See ya around, Kariya.”

I nodded at his words of farewell.

Yeah. See you later, Nadar.

Someday, once I’ve fulfilled all my duties, let’s see each other again. I’ll bring my smile, and you bring yours.

Then, I slowly opened my eyes.

I was lying in an unfamiliar hut.

The time was probably a little past noon. Sunlight streamed into the room between the slats of the wooden walls. Motes of dust danced in the air, sparkling in the light.

The gaps between the planks of wood making up the wall were noticeably large. The windows were closed, but the inside of the hut was pretty bright regardless.

Was this a storage shed? Or maybe it was somewhere that was only used during the summer? There was no sign that this place saw any regular use.

Tears trickled down from the corners of my eyes. When I noticed them, I softly smiled.

I’d dreamed about Nadar.

He’d been smiling. I felt giddy seeing him like that.

I was sure that it had just been a dream. But still, I was overjoyed that he had smiled at me. I hadn’t thought I’d ever see him again, but I had. And that made me happier than anything.

Maybe that’d been what people called a near-death experience. And the reason that thought popped into my head was because right now, my mouth was filled with the awful taste of blood.

I slowly sat up. My body didn’t hurt at all, and I was able to move just fine too.

Someone must’ve laid me on the wooden floor of this hut. I recognized the fabric that had been placed over me as a makeshift blanket. It was the cape Prince Wald had been wearing, and it looked absolutely terrible now. Originally a deep green, it was now dirty and caked with blood—probably mine. The dark red splotches had blackened it.

My clothes were also in a downright awful state. There were two holes in the front of my top—one at my left chest and one near my gut. I’m pretty sure the back had been slashed in a way that left it barely hanging from my shoulders. All of the fabric was basically a reddish-brown now.

According to the item descriptions in Golden Dawn, Revive Bracelets worked by essentially reversing time to return the body to its previous state. So, even if someone’s leg were cut off, they would come back to life with their leg reattached, just as they’d been before they’d sustained that injury.

But that was just how it worked in the game. I bet that in this world, coming back to life with a severed leg would be a traumatizing, horrific experience. A severed head probably wouldn’t fare much better either.

That was just my hunch, but the only proof I needed to figure out that much was all around me. It was impressive that I wasn’t anemic despite losing a crazy amount of blood, but I was still in the middle of a pool of all the blood I had lost. It stained the floor.

Kariya of Gaelius had experienced death by hemorrhage. Three times, actually.

“Huh?”

Wait, three times? But my Revive Bracelet should’ve only been able to activate twice...

Well, never mind that.

Right now, I had more important things to worry about. I stood up, leaving the cape on the floor.

For starters, I needed to rinse out my mouth. I also needed to wipe down my body, wash my hair, and get a change of clothes.

Hold on, where’s the prince?! If his cape’s here, he should be somewhere nearby, right?!

I dashed out of the hut and found myself surrounded by complete stillness.

Outside of the building was a grove of trees bearing some sort of citrus fruit. Several withered fruit resembling oranges hung from the highest branches of the trees.

Looking around, I noticed what looked to be some shabby foundations for something strewn on the ground here and there. Given their size, I realized this place must be a fruit grove used by beekeepers to make honey.

We were still in the midst of winter right now. In the spring, once the orange trees began to blossom, the beekeepers would return to manage beehives on the foundations. That would explain why this hut didn’t seem to have seen any use in a while—its owners must have only come around during the seasons bees were active.

Now that I was outdoors, I cupped my hands together and magically conjured some water. After pouring the water into my mouth to rinse it out, I spat the dirty water on the ground. I did this several more times.

I think I’ll wash my face too, while I’m at it. My beard’s grown out again as well. Judging by the length, I must’ve been sleeping for at least five days.

The ribbon that had been keeping my hair tied was gone. I had probably lost it when I’d gotten slashed across the back.

My unbound hair was absolutely disgusting—it was stuck together in places with hardened blood. After I’d joined the war effort, I had figured that I would have become a little sharper and more put together, but I had the feeling I’d managed to get back to being a barbarian.

All right, face washed. Time for a bath.

Wait, wait. I should look for Prince Wald first. I was certain he’d teleported through the portal with me...

“Kariya?”

Hearing my name called, I turned to the source of the voice.

There, standing with several wrinkled oranges gathered in his arms, was a teen. His blond hair glittered in the sunlight.

I had the sensation that I hadn’t seen the prince in a long time, but despite his ragged appearance, he was still the same beautiful young man I remembered. Well, it didn’t help that his clothes were horribly soiled too. His once-regal dark-green attire had been mottled brown by someone’s blood.

All of the oranges he’d been carrying fell to the ground and rolled away.

“Kariya!”

Wald leaped into my arms. Catching him, I held him close in a tight embrace.

50. A Cat-Shaped Robot— Er, A Transmigrator for Every Household

After we held each other for a short while, Prince Wald finally let go of me. His eyes were a little red around the edges. As soon as we had seen each other again, he had buried his face in my chest, but I hadn’t heard a single sob out of him.

Despite that, he continued to tremble in my arms.

I figured that, as a member of the royal family, he’d been taught never to display any of his emotions too strongly. When his father and brother had both died, he hadn’t wailed then. When he had watched Croway burn, he had been crying, but the tears that had streamed down his pale cheeks had been accompanied by silence.

The only time I’d seen him surrender to his emotions had been when that transmigrator, Yde, had been kicking around that crown. Although, to be honest, I’m sure that would have pissed anyone off.

Unlike in my old life, a person at fifteen years of age in this world was already considered to be a full-fledged member of society. But his actual age aside, Wald was as mature as any adult.

Although the royal house might have considered someone burying emotions to be correct behavior, as a transmigrator, I couldn’t help but still see him as a child. Maybe I was overstepping to think this, but I felt that he should let more of his feelings out.

“Kariya, I’m so glad you regained consciousness.” I could tell from his words that he’d been worried about me as I slept those long days.

Wait a moment. Now that I thought about it, there was one mystery I still hadn’t solved. I asked Wald about it.

“About that... I think I must’ve died three times. Did you do something, Your Highness?” I asked.

“I pulled the sword out from your belly and poured this into your mouth.” He pulled an empty bottle from the pocket of his slacks. “It’s the elixir you gave me. I apologize for using it without your permission—I promise you will be paid in full for it.”

Oh, right, I had given that to him the time I had explained that I was actually an S-tier crafter. It was an elixir—the panacea that was even capable of resurrection. There had been so much going on that I’d completely forgotten about it. I guess the prince must’ve been holding on to it this entire time.

“Well, in my humble opinion, I don’t think you need to worry about that—you used it on me, after all. You saved me, so...thank you, for reviving me. But it looks like I took a long time to wake up,” I said, frowning. After all, it shouldn’t have taken that long to take effect. “Was, uh, the elixir of poor quality?”

Wald seemed taken aback. “You don’t know?” Puzzled, he studied me for a moment and then began explaining as if he’d figured out the issue.

“When elixirs are used on transmigrators, the effects are delayed,” he began. “People say this is due to a mechanic in the game of your old world called a ‘cast timer.’ Elixirs take effect instantaneously for the ordinary people of this world, but transmigrators take several days to convalesce. There are some other situations where this world differs from that of your game as well, which...” he trailed off. “Well, you would have been informed of them upon joining the guild.”

“Oh, right. I definitely hadn’t known that.”

Yikes, that’s scary.

Which, I realized, was a somewhat belated response for someone who was already aware that this world wasn’t completely identical to the game I had played. But while there might have been some other egregious differences, I really didn’t have the desire to join the guild at this point, even if they’d teach me the rest.

As I discovered later, high elixirs, unlike normal elixirs, apparently had the ability to revive transmigrators without a cast time as well.

But...since high elixirs were SS-rank items, I couldn’t make them myself.

“I should tell you what has happened these past few days. I knew you would be asleep for some time after drinking the elixir, so after I’d administered it to you, I moved us from the teleportation portal. As I didn’t know when we might be attacked by pursuers, I decided the wiser choice would be to leave the vicinity. I discovered this empty hut, so I decided that we ought to lie low here to keep from being discovered.”

“That makes sense. It didn’t seem to me like it’d been used in a while, so I doubt anyone lives anywhere around here.” I paused there and thought for a moment. “By the way, Your Highness, did you happen to see the number engraved over the entrance of the portal building?”

He was silent for a moment. When he finally replied, his voice was low and subdued. “It was 203.”

I was speechless. 203, huh? Or, more precisely, 02:03.

In Golden Dawn, the buildings that housed teleportation portals were marked with numbers. Teleportation stations were designated in successive single- or double-digit numbers. For example, Tachyrinn Station had been labeled “18.”

On the other hand, the small portals scattered all around the world that basically only connected to a single endpoint were designated with coordinates instead. The number used for portals located in the Central Nations indicated longitudinal and latitudinal coordinates.

Longitudinal coordinates went from 01 to 10, and we were at 02. As for latitudinal coordinates, they ranged between 01 and 15, and we were at 03.

“Well,” I began brightly in an attempt to lighten the mood. “At least there weren’t any letters. We’d be in a rough spot if we ended up in the edgelands!”

“I...suppose.”

Not quite the reaction I hoped for. Oh well.

“All right, then!” I said, trying to be chipper. “We have a lot of things we’ll need to figure out, especially about what we’re going to do, but firstly! Let’s have something to eat, then let’s do something about our clothes and bathing and stuff!”

“R-Right,” he said with a nod. Wald then began to pick up the oranges that lay scattered on the ground. “I gathered these earlier. I tried to get enough for you too...”

The oranges were a sorry sight as they’d been left to rot on the branches over winter. Their skins were wrinkled and mottled with brown spots, indicating they were far out of season.

When I’d left the hut earlier, I had noticed peeled skins left here and there on the ground. I doubted there was anything else to eat in this orange grove, considering the grove itself was obviously tended to by human hands. There was no way the prince would have had rations on him either.

He must have gathered these remaining oranges himself to fill his empty stomach while I lay asleep.

“Prince Wald, please put the oranges into this basket.”

“Huh, a basket? You have one?”

“Yes, one I’d kept in my Pocket Dimension. Now I’ll show you the true power of a transmigrator!” I jokingly declared.

I’d been careful not to use my abilities too much in front of NPCs up until now, but since we were alone together, I figured it was fine.

I manifested a wooden table on the spot and then placed the basket of oranges on top. After that, I withdrew a matching chair from my interdimensional storage, giving Prince Wald—who was astonished, to say the least—a place to sit.

“Just in case, here’s a recovery potion that’ll cure adverse status effects. Go on and have some.”

I conjured a bottle out of thin air and placed it in front of the youth.

But, of course, a single potion wouldn’t be enough to fill a stomach.

Since he’d had nothing to eat for the past few days but fruit, it’d probably be best not to feed him anything solid right away.

The next thing I withdrew was a bowl of porridge made from a variety of grains from my personal hammerspace. I’d crafted it all the way back from when I was living in Gaelius, so I could only hope that it’d be agreeable enough for the prince’s palate...

I summoned a small pot—it landed on the table with a thud.

My Pocket Dimension was almighty as it stopped time. When I lifted the lid of the pot, the porridge inside it was still steaming.

Next, I manifested a wooden bowl. I filled it with porridge, placed it before the prince, and gave him a spoon.

Sorry for making you use old dinner utensils. By the way, I made all of these too.

“Make sure you eat slowly so you don’t upset your stomach,” I told him. “Oh, let me make some tea as well.”

After adding some dried tea leaves to a wooden mug, I filled it with hot water I conjured with magic. I made sure to keep the liquid at a pleasant level of warmth so he could drink the tea all at once if he wanted. Having a B-tier proficiency in water magic made me the perfect human percolator, complete with adjustable temperature control.

Once he finished drinking the potion, the prince began munching on the porridge as best he could while keeping his bites small. Honestly, the sight was pretty cute.

Actually, now that I really looked at him as he ate, his eyes were wet with tears.

Nothing hits the spot like a warm meal. I totally get it.

But most of all, thank goodness the flavor is tolerable. Seriously.

“Feel free to have more if you like, but don’t force yourself too hard. While you eat, I’ll go draw a bath.” I moved a short distance away, leaving the prince at the table.

“K-Kariya?!”

When I heard the forlorn way he called my name from behind me, I abandoned my plan to set up the bath a little ways off. I pulled out a massive tub on the spot instead.

“I’ll fill this tub with hot water, so once you finish eating, come over here.”

Since we were outdoors, I fetched a partition from my storage as well. I doubted there was anyone in these woods aside from the two of us, though, so the risk of a Peeping Tom was pretty low.

I hung a towel on the partition so he could dry himself off later and put a bar of soap and shampoo into a small bucket. I made sure to choose nice ones I’d made with essential oils.

I also had a set of silk clothes that had been given to me at Tachyrinn. They were probably a little too big for him, though. Even so, I took the set out of my storage anyway and laid it out.

That was when I noticed a presence behind me—the prince had drawn near. He must’ve finished eating as he was now staring in blank amazement at the bath accommodations I’d set up for him.

“Are all of these yours, Kariya?” he asked.

“Yes. I made a lot of things while I was roaming the mountains. I didn’t want to have to worry about everyday necessities out in the wild. It was worth spending all that money on the cash shop—I have so much storage space!”

Not to toot my own horn, but I was just as omnipotent as a certain blue cat-shaped robot from the future. I could pull almost anything out of my Pocket Dimension. This was, arguably, a hacker-level skill. A stockpile hack!

It was absolutely nothing to write home about when it came to combat, though. I mean, just a few days ago, I had been basically stuck in an instant death loop and had died three times in a row.

“Do you need help with your bath?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I’m fine.”

“All right. This is the water heater,” I said, gesturing to a contraption nearby. “If you turn this knob, hot water will come out from over here. Anyway, take it easy and enjoy your soak.”

I gently shepherded the prince behind the partition. Then, I walked over to the table to the chair the prince had been sitting in during his meal. After sitting down, I drank a potion myself.

I checked the remaining porridge in the pot, and I realized I should probably make a new set of eating utensils.

Oh, right, I only have one chair... I should probably make a second.

51. Strategy Meeting

After the prince announced he’d finished with his bath, I stepped behind the partition.

The young man was aglow with warmth, but since his hair was still wet, I decided to dry it for him with a warm wind. I had a B-tier proficiency in wind magic, which functionally made me a human dryer.

Seeing that Wald was about to put his dirty boots back on, I quickly stopped him and fetched some fur-lined shoes from my storage for him. I followed that up by conjuring him a cup of fruit-sweetened milk—the perfect treat after a warm bath.

Yup. Sounds far-fetched, but I can whip that up too.

“You...really do have everything, don’t you?” he asked.

“I kinda get fixated on weird things sometimes,” I admitted. “At any rate, it won’t do for you to catch a cold, so go ahead and wrap yourself in this. I’ll take my own bath now.”

I had some wolf pelts that I hadn’t gotten around to crafting with yet, so I pulled a particularly soft and fluffy one out and wrapped it around the prince’s shoulders.

Super warm, right? Feel free to curl up in it.

The pelt was from a C-rank snow wolf that had made its home deep in Gaelius. I’d been planning on making a coat out of it, which was well within my ability as a non-metal crafter.

The prince’s clothing had been left next to the washbasin. Upon examining them, I found—or rather, confirmed my suspicions—that they were exceptional works of craftsmanship that also allowed the wearer to self-regulate their temperature. The cape that was left on me as a makeshift blanket had been the same.

Thanks to these fine pieces of clothing, we had been able to survive the bitterly cold winter nights despite the hut’s draftiness.

After I climbed into the tub and began to wash myself, I noticed the prince had brought the chair to the other side of the partitioning screen and had seated himself there.

Neither of us spoke for a while.

I decided to break the silence. “There’s something I need to ask you, Prince Wald.”

“What is it?”

“I noticed you aren’t wearing the Royal Diadem. What did you do with it?”

“Oh, that,” he said in understanding and took a deep breath. “I’m actually wearing it on my arm right now. I thought it would stand out too much if I wore it on my head. Since it’s a piece of equipment, its size can be changed at will, so I wear it on my arm when I sleep as well. It gets in the way otherwise.”

“I see,” I remarked. Since I hadn’t seen him wearing it, I’d been curious. Thank goodness he hadn’t lost it or anything.

The prince was quiet after that as I finished my bath and got changed.

“Kariya,” he called to me. “Will I...be able to return to Tiuccia?”

“I’ll take you there myself,” I replied, not missing a beat.

I tied my now-dry hair with a leather strap, completing the mountain wanderer ensemble I once wore on the daily. I quickly dried off all the bathing equipment and returned it to my Pocket Dimension.

Swinging around from behind the partition, I flashed the prince a cheery grin as he patiently waited for me.

“I swear I’ll bring you back. It might take a while, but you’ll be able to get home, I promise. So don’t worry—please think of this journey as something like being on a cruise ship,” I said.

Now that I’d come into full view, the prince looked up at me and nodded. He was sitting hunched over in the chair with the fur wrapped around himself.

Although the wind had begun to pick up, the partition was also serving as a windbreaker. It was still light out, so I pulled a hand-drawn map out of my storage then and there. This was a map of the Central Nations I had sketched from my memory of the game. Longitudinally, it was divided into sections numbered 01 to 10, and likewise latitudinally from 01 to 15.

“Let’s spread this out on a table and take a look,” I suggested.

“Oh, should I move?” he asked.

“Nah, I’ll bring out another table. Unfortunately, I don’t have another chair, but I do have some crates.”

Wald stared at me in astonishment once more. “Transmigrators really are all-powerful.”

I shook my head no as I manifested a table—this one lower in height than the previous one—and a couple of wooden crates for us to use.

My Pocket Dimension was pretty handy, but it wasn’t entirely perfect. I couldn’t conjure just anything at all from out of its storage—the space only held things I’d once placed into it. All of the things I’d taken out today were things I’d crafted and stored in the past. And these were all things I’d amassed after seven years.

Now it was time to get down to business. I spread the map out on the table so we could both look at it.

“Right now, we’re here.”

Since I didn’t have any formation pieces to designate our position on the map, I decided to make do with a metal bead meant for crafting instead. Given the prince’s observation of the number atop the portal entranceway, I placed our position at 02:03. The way the map was numbered, we were two segments down from the top and three over from the left. That put us at pretty much the westernmost edge of the Central Nations.

“Tiuccia’s at 07:04,” I said, then placed another bead southwest of the Gaelius Mountains, which had been drawn near the center of the map.

Seven from the top, four from the left.

The quickest way to get back there would be to travel east for a short while and then head straight south. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be that easy.

“The enemy nation of Khrasiel is at 05:04, meaning we can’t take a direct path from here back to Tiuccia.”

Of course, the enemy had to be directly in our path as the crow flies. Trying to cut through there would be a death wish. And if we happened to run into those two transmigrators again, my B-tier combat proficiency would get me murdered in an instant—again.

“I’m sure you’ve realized by now, Your Highness, but right now, we’re in the Northern Bloc, which Khrasiel is affiliated with. Since we’re in enemy territory, I can’t use Return. All of the teleportation portals are under the guild’s control too, so if we try using them, we’ll be caught instantly.”

Wald thought about it for a moment. “If we escape the Northern Bloc, you’ll be able to use Return, right?”

“That’s right. Return will send us back to my home point in the Gaelius Mountains, and from there, I’ll be able to use Jump to get to Altiuccia.”

Wald took a deep breath. A pale hand slipped out from the fur as he extended it to point at the area directly north of our current position.

“We won’t be able to cross the Northern Ridges,” he said. “That land is under dwarven dominion, and they’d never let humans cross their borders. It’d be impossible to get into their mountain lands.”

“Then how about we go west? If we pass through Godhaven at 02:02, we’ll reach Raghion,” I suggested.

Wald shook his head. “Godhaven won’t allow passage to people who don’t share their religious beliefs. As Tiuccian royalty, I cannot convert to their religion; if I do, Tiuccia will fall under their control. We simply can’t go that way.”

In the polytheistic framework of Golden Dawn, Godhaven was unique for being draconian in its beliefs. Since all of their citizens were members of their faith, trying to sneak through would be an incredibly difficult, if not impossible, task.

Since we couldn’t head west either, that made the options of north, west, and south all closed off to us. Heading east was our one remaining route.

“Our position right now is at the westernmost edge of the Northern Bloc. If we go east, all the way to latitude 08, I’ll be able to use Return there.”

The prince slid his fingertips from our position across the map as I indicated. “That’s so far...” he muttered.

“But it’s not an impossible distance,” I said. “We’ll have to walk, and if we can take advantage of a stagecoach, we’ll do that. But we won’t be able to rely on Jump in any spaces where people might see us... If someone happens to witness us teleporting and report it to the guild, they’d be certain to send transmigrators after us, and I won’t be able to win against them.”

Wald was silent.

I continued. “If we work to blend in with the locals, it might take years, but I swear I’ll bring you back to Tiuccia.”

“How many years do you think it’ll take?”

“Considering our only means of travel and the fact that I won’t be able to use my transmigrator abilities, I estimate it’ll take about...” I trailed off, doing some rough calculations in my mind. “Two to three years.”

Wald sucked in even more air.

“It’s fine,” he said eventually. “There have been kings in history who roamed the world for many decades. If it only takes a few years to get back, then that would actually be quite favorable in comparison. Besides, were I to perish, my death would be reflected on the Right of Rule. So as long as I manage to survive, Catharine and Lucian will know that I still live. They will protect Tiuccia in my place until my return.”

Oh, right. I’d nearly forgotten about the Right of Rule.

If a member of the royal family passed away, their engraved name on the Right of Rule would lose its light. As long as Wald’s name continued to shine, his family would know that he was still alive.

And that was how we decided on our immediate plan: to travel to the east.

We’d cross laterally through the Northern Bloc, and once we made it through, I’d cast Return to get us back to Gaelius. From there, we would travel back to Altiuccia. But since we couldn’t use the modes of travel I had used back in Golden Dawn, we were in for a long journey.

52. The Easy Job of Maintaining a Prince’s Virtue

Once the sun began its descent in the west, the wind became markedly colder. We decided it was too chilly to remain outdoors any longer, so we moved into the hut.

Of course, before we did, I opened all its windows and used wind magic to air it and blow all the dust outside.

Magic was so handy.

But as useful as it was, I wouldn’t clean my own house that way. I was pretty sure all my furniture and anything small and light would get blown away. I was only able to clean the hut with magic because its owners hadn’t left anything inside.

Given our current circumstances, we deemed it best for me to store the prince’s set of garments, including the cape that he’d covered me with as a makeshift blanket, in my Pocket Dimension for safekeeping. Apparently, he’d lost his sword at Tachyrinn, so I tucked his empty scabbard and belt away as well.

By virtue of being lodged in my gut, the enemy transmigrator’s scimitar had come along with us. Wald had left it in the little hut, so I tossed that into my storage too.

It wasn’t like the sword itself was cursed or anything—and besides, it was a nice, fancy S-rank weapon. While the weapon wasn’t grand enough to have a name inscribed on it like Scatterbloom, its ex-owner must’ve been grinding his teeth over its loss.

After things cooled down, I’d sell it off. It wasn’t like I could use it to its full potential anyway.

Once I placed items at the four corners of the hut to create a barrier, we’d be protected from both monster attacks and drafts. I suspected that the entire orange orchard was protected by a magically constructed barrier, though, so the one I was making now was mainly to keep the wind out.

Now that the ramshackle hut was clean, I unloaded several pelts from my storage and laid them out on the floor. Then, I placed a feather duvet on top of the pile of furs. That duvet was my absolute favorite blanket. It was looking a little rough around the edges from use, but its warmth was still second to none.

Ah, wait, I guess I’ll have to make another blanket.

Part of this shack must’ve been used as a workspace, as there was an area that lacked the wooden flooring used in the rest of the building and had been left as bare earth. Since that spot was relatively large, I decided to place a table there.

If we cooked using a fire, the rising column of smoke would alert people to our presence, which we couldn’t let happen. So our dinner ended up being something from out of my storage too. I’d pulled out a stew that had been simmered until the vegetables in it were meltingly tender, as well as some white bread I’d received from the kitchen at Tachyrinn. To top it off, I brought out some wine I diluted with hot water.

Since fifteen years of age was considered adulthood in this world, Wald was old enough to drink. I was hoping it would help warm him up.

I pulled out a lamp and hung it up on an overhanging beam. By the time I had dinner ready for us to eat, the day had long since passed into dusk.

Once we finish eating, we’ll probably just turn in for the night.

At least, that’s what I had thought. But it looked like the prince had something on his mind.

“Kariya, I’d like to talk to you about something important. I also have a request.”

“What is it?” I looked at him questioningly.

Wald, who had remained seated in his chair, straightened his back and squared his shoulders.

After taking a moment to center himself, he began to speak. “First, I’ll explain Heraldries, which can only be used by the natural people of this world, and bloodlines. The Ivory Veil, passed down in House Tiuccia; the crowns belonging to each royal family; and Scatterbloom, which belongs to House Cautley, are all examples of Heraldries.

“They are exceptionally rare artifacts that can only be used by members of the lineage that claims ownership of the Heraldry. Transmigrators like yourself cannot be bearers of Heraldries...” He paused, then corrected himself. “Well, actually, that’s not entirely true. Transmigrators can use them too, but only once they fulfill certain requirements.”

A small smile tugged at his mouth as he looked at me. My countenance had grown stern, but he didn’t remark on it. Instead, he continued with his explanation.

“Heraldries demand that their users be members of the lineage designated as their owner. But in the case of the royal heraldries, the accepted lineage is traced through the male side of the family. The reason for this is that if a princess of a royal family marries into another house, she’ll gain the right to use Heraldries from her new house, but she’ll lose the rights to the Heraldries of her old house. This happens because her bloodline will be overwritten on a physical level.”

Huh?

I noticed he was explaining the subject in a somewhat convoluted manner, and I began to have an inkling of why.

In my old life, I wasn’t exactly a diehard homebody obsessed with video games and light novels, but I could guess I was about to be hit with some sort of light novel-esque cliché.

“So,” I began tentatively, “basically once the marriage is consummated, she’ll become a member of her partner’s—er, her husband’s lineage?”

“That’s right.”

“And to swap lineages, they’d have to do the deed all the way to the end?”

“Yes. This is why ceremonies, such as consummation on the wedding night, are necessary to validate a marriage.”

“Is this just the case between royals?” I asked.

“Not at all; the passing of a lineage only requires a man. But, while concubines and even casual courtesans can gain the right to a Heraldry after engaging in sex, they cannot actually use it unless they have also been registered as a member of that house. In the case of a royal family, engraving that person’s name upon the Right of Rule would mean that they are registered.”

At this point, the prince’s tone shifted.

“Male transmigrators cannot have children, which means they cannot pass on their bloodline. Even if they were to marry into a royal family, and even if they were acknowledged by the royal Heraldry as being a valid bearer, they would never be eligible for kingship,” he explained. “A female transmigrator, on the other hand, will obtain the rights to a Heraldry once she has intercourse with a man of the royal family and, as his wife, has her name engraved on the Right of Rule. However, were she to have sexual relations with another man, she would lose those rights.”

So essentially, since male transmigrators were infertile, they couldn’t be recognized as the king of an established kingdom. A woman could become royalty if she married into the family and consummated her marriage. But cheating would invalidate her royal lineage and claim to the Heraldry.

So that was what he’d meant by “overwrite.” Sex literally overwrote your lineage.

Hmm... I guess maybe she could get away with it if she slept with her husband again before the act was sussed out... Oh, but if she lost her rights, she might need her name rerecorded on the Right of Rule, so that probably wouldn’t work anyway.

In other words, any instance of infidelity could absolutely be discovered by checking the Right of Rule.

“Do you more or less understand how lineages work?” Wald asked, but he continued before I had a chance to answer. “Now, consider a case wherein a royal princess decides to take a husband. Were they to have sex, her lineage would be overwritten by her husband’s, and she would lose the rights associated with her original house. Given that fact, what do you think should be done?”

The reasonable guess would be adoption, right? Or, wait, maybe that still wouldn’t work? The problem at hand wasn’t about having a name entered into the Right of Rule as a family member, but the fact that sex changed a person’s eligibility to use the Heraldry. So, that meant—

Wald told me what this world’s answer to that was. “Yes. The husband-to-be first accepts sex from a kinsman of his bride. Once he obtains the rights from having lain with a man from his bride’s house, he can then consummate the marriage with his wife.”

Ah.

Aaaaahhhhh!

Damn it. My brain had completely slipped back to my old world; I’d been thinking along the rules of my previous life.

Now that I had been apprised of this nightmarish system, the stunningly gorgeous young man swooped in for the death blow.

“Kariya, do you think I’m handsome?” he asked. “And I’m not trying to be conceited; I’m looking for your objective opinion. I’ve long since gotten used to the way people look at me, but I am aware that my face tends to make me an object of desire for men and women alike.”

“Uh... No. Not even the slightest.”

“Fair enough. You’ve very little interest in the carnal, right? I did notice that, back at Tachyrinn, you rejected advances from everyone regardless of gender, and you never tried to pursue anyone yourself.”

Yup. I’m pretty sure my lust has long since hit rock bottom. It might actually have just dried up completely. I mean, if I count how long I lived in my old life, I’m just about at that age. Unfortunately, my mental age never matured at all.

“I’ve been protected by my status as prince. I could refuse any unwanted advances, and my rank had also been the reason people could not approach me with such proposals,” he said. “Besides, laying a hand on royalty, whether man or woman, would result in execution not only for the offender, but their entire clan. This is because a royal who is taken forcibly will still lose the qualification to rule that was afforded to their bloodline.”

“Even for men?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Both men and women can have their lineages overwritten. If they engage in intercourse as the receiving party, they will lose the rights associated with their previous line.”

I was aware that I was being terribly, awfully rude to him, but I couldn’t help but clutch my head. There was no guarantee that this strikingly beautiful young man, who was so pretty that he could be mistaken for a woman, would be able to get by without being raped. In fact, if left alone, he probably would be.

Whether it be a brigand, thug, or corrupt noble, if he ran into the wrong person at the wrong time, he’d probably be bent over on the spot.

Gender wouldn’t matter. A hole’s a hole.

Being a barbarian living in the remote mountains, I’d been far removed from it all, but the fact that the weak were subjugated and violated by the strong remained a tragic truth of this world.

Just like those women I’d saved all those years ago and the bandits who’d abducted them.

We sat in silence for a moment as I digested this new information.

Before long, Wald spoke once more. “I’m sorry, Kariya. But now, you understand why I must ask you to protect me in certain other ways as well. Right now, I’m certain the castle in Altiuccia must be under lockdown to prevent people from approaching the Right of Rule, as it would reveal my status. Should I perish, the light will die from my name, but if I am assaulted, the light will fade from gold to white. The fact that I have lost my lineage will be made plain.”

I mulled over this for a moment. “Would that mean you’d lose your claim to the throne?”

“If nothing is done to reverse it, yes. But should my lineage be overwritten once more, the rights associated with my house should be restituted. If that were to come to pass, I might be considered the bride of the man who lies with me, but I suppose we could come up with something to gloss over that detail. Such things have always been made vague in any given bloodline.”

Then, I heard him quietly add, under his breath, “Not that I have any intention of continuing the current royal house.”

I pretended not to hear that.

I didn’t need to think about things that would be dealt with after we’d returned to Tiuccia. Right now, I had to focus on figuring out how to get him back there safely.

Of course, I had every intention of bringing him back to his home country untouched and unharmed. But on the other hand, I couldn’t deny that the difficulty of doing so had just skyrocketed.

I nodded, showing that I understood. Under no circumstances could I allow him to be raped. I had to do everything in my power to protect this lovely young man’s virtue.

Speaking of his virtue...

“By the way, I heard that House Tiuccia has nearly no direct members of its line remaining. Um, so... If the worst should come to pass, would it be okay for your bloodline to end up diluted?”

“We still have Lucian,” Wald said. “Although his lack of magical aptitude prevents him from using the Ivory Veil, he is still able to maintain our bloodline. Since he prefers men anyway, I think he would be the perfect candidate to rewrite the lineage, should it somehow be lost.”

“W-Wait, isn’t he your brother?!”

“Yes, but we have different mothers. It’s quite unacceptable—taboo, even—to have sexual relations with a sibling from the same mother, but there is no issue for siblings from different mothers. They are even permitted to marry,” Wald explained unaffectedly.

Holy shit. This world is unbelievable.

In my twenty-five years of life in this land, what Wald had just told me definitely ranked as one of the craziest instances of culture shock I’d ever experienced.

53. Hello Again, Beard

The dried leaves covering the ground crunched underfoot as I walked. Orange trees were evergreens, so the fallen foliage must’ve blown in from outside the grove.

The sun had risen, and Wald was still sleeping in the hut, so I left him there so I could scout around the immediate area. Although neither the orange orchard nor its surrounding land had any signs that anyone lived there, there were traces of a passing road nearby that seemed just wide enough to accommodate horse-drawn wagons.

The people who visited this area probably arrived in the spring to collect honey from bees pollinating the blossoms, and once fall arrived and the blossoms bore fruit, they would harvest the oranges. Evidence of this was readily found in a disposal pit I’d discovered. It seemed that they also processed the fruit here. My guess was that they made jam—there weren’t any places near enough to transport fresh fruit to before it’d spoil.

That also meant that there were no large towns anywhere nearby. Given what I knew, our current location must’ve been a remote hinterland pretty far north, close to the Northern Ridges.

Stone stelae were erected around the perimeter of the grove, each one weathered by time. They had probably been placed there to form a protective barrier.

I also found the decaying ruins of an old manor that had probably once been the residence of whatever lord ruled these lands.

Past the orange grove and some ways into the forest, I found the building with “203” engraved over its entrance. It was one of the many small teleportation portals in Golden Dawn that connected to a single destination.

As a hunter who’d honed his tracking skills in Gaelius, I easily found traces of foot traffic in the immediate area around the building. There were several sets of footprints going to and from it. I traced them—they had come from the portal and led to the ruins I had found earlier. It seemed like after they had investigated the inside of the decrepit manor, they had returned to the portal and left.

I was thankful that the prince had made the decision not to hide within the ruins and had instead proceeded farther through the forest. If he’d chosen to hide in the manor, we would have been caught.

“They must be guarding the relay stations rather than these minor portals. Guess they wouldn’t bother posting soldiers at every endpoint,” I quietly observed.

I hadn’t sensed anyone around the portal, but I wasn’t about to approach the building to find out. There was always the possibility that they’d set up a trap or something. As much as I wanted to inspect the portal’s control panel, I decided to steer clear.

Although we had narrowed the area down to 02:03, the panel itself wasn’t likely to give us much more information anyway. Its designation wasn’t unique to this portal, and there were likely to be many more in this area.

Come to think of it, the Central Nations were honestly littered with portals. There were so many scattered among all of the areas that most didn’t have names—only the most famous ones were named. Because of that, I could only take a rough guess of our location, but with all the hints I’d managed to pick up, I was sure I’d figure things out.

“All right... I’ll head back now,” I muttered to myself.

It only took me a second to get back. There had been an empty plaza of sorts directly in front of the little hut in the orange grove, so I cast Jump to return there in an instant.

“Kariya!”

The prince was standing in the doorway to the shack, bundled up in the snow wolf pelts. He seemed to have awoken not too long ago. I had left a note on the table that I’d gone out, so he must’ve been waiting for my return.

Wald breathed a sigh of relief, and his expression softened into a smile. It made me regret leaving him alone, especially after last night. He had been tossing and turning.

Since I had been sleeping for days, I hadn’t felt the least bit tired, so I urged him to turn in first. But although Wald had been nestled comfortably under the warm feather duvet to sleep, he would occasionally jolt awake during the night. He would jump to his feet and look around the room—once he saw me under the lamplight, he would let out a long, deep sigh.

Whenever he had managed to fall back asleep, he would still cry out for his family. Sometimes, he even called for me.

The side effects of the elixir had caused me to fall into a deep sleep, but I felt remorseful that I’d essentially left him alone. His nerves were clearly still strung taut as a bow.

I tried to assuage his anxiety by cheerfully calling out to him.

“Good morning, Prince Wald. Have you already brushed your teeth?” I asked. “I left everything I thought you might need to wash up in the hut. Also, I thought we could eat breakfast outside today since the weather’s quite nice. Spring should be arriving soon, so it’s gotten a lot warmer.”

There weren’t any people in the vicinity of the orange grove, so I doubted using an open fire here would cause any problems.

“While we’re traveling, if it’s just the two of us around, I can fetch food from my Pocket Dimension for us. But if we happen to, say, take a break at a rest stop along the highway, we need to be aware of other people who might be around. In cases like those, we’ll need to cook our meals from scratch. I’d like you to handle collecting small twigs and branches to use as kindling for a fire; I’ll handle the cooking. Here, this is how we’ll do it.”

I knelt next to a patch of earth that had been discolored by flame. Pulling cinder blocks from my storage, I began to stack them on the ground to fashion a simple stove. Stoves were already available at pit stops, but since we didn’t have one here, my demonstration had to start from square one.

I tossed kindling (from my interdimensional storage) into the stove and ignited it. Then, I placed a frying pan (also from storage) over the fire. After that, I poured a generous amount of cooking oil into the pan, peeled some fresh-from-storage potatoes with a knife, cut them into thin slices, and then added them to the oil.

If you asked me, sausages were better grilled with oil than boiled in water—after the casings popped open and the grease leaked out, you could use it to fry potatoes that would pick up the flavor. Anyway, I tossed some small, green tomatoes into the mix as well and lightly seared them.

After I made sure everything was fully cooked, I plated our meal with a spatula and sprinkled some salt on top.

I quickly wiped down the now-empty frying pan and then placed slices of bread on it. I toasted them until they were golden brown. After that, I added them to the wooden plates, next to the sausages. If we were eating indoors, I would ordinarily plate all the dishes individually, but when it came to eating outdoors like this, I preferred to reduce the number of plates.

I warmed a block of cheese in the pan over the fire, let it melt, and then scraped it onto the sliced bread.

Gooey cheese wasn’t something that ever would have been served at fine meals in Tachyrinn. Their food had been really good, though. It was too bad that the food there had never been served so fresh out of the oven that it was still hot enough to burn.

“Anyway, that’s more or less how we’ll cook and dine going forward,” I said. “I would’ve liked to have more fresh vegetables, but I doubt we’ll run into many people who happen to have them on hand while we’re on the road. We’ll just have to eat what we can of them at times when no other people are around.”

“You’re...quite skilled,” Wald remarked.

“I’m just used to cooking. For the tea, let’s skip the brewing process and just put the tea leaves directly into our cups. Oh, and just so you know, today’s breakfast is more on the extravagant side. The meals we have as we travel will be simpler fare, like soup made from dried meat and vegetables, or porridge made with rice and barley.”

Wald looked like he was thoroughly enjoying my homemade breakfast.

Once we finished eating, I taught him to rinse the dishes with water magic—apparently, he had some proficiency in that as well. We wiped them clean afterward. This was probably the first time in his life that he’d ever had to clean up, but he carried it out with the utmost dedication written on his face. When he finished and brought the plates back to me, I thanked him and put them all back into my storage.

I then gently suggested he sit back down in his seat. Perhaps realizing that I had something important to discuss with him, he sat without a single word.

“Prince Wald, I was thinking we should set out from here by tomorrow,” I began.

“All right. I’d like to return to Tiuccia as soon as possible as well. I wouldn’t mind if we left right this minute.”

“No, we’ll need to make sure we’re properly ready first.” I paused there and studied him for a moment. “Your Highness, would it be okay for me to dye your hair another color?”

He nodded at my proposal. “What color were you thinking?”

“How about my hair color? I was thinking that we could try passing as traveling siblings hailing from the mountains. While our age difference might make that a bit of a stretch, I don’t think anyone would think twice about it,” I explained. “We should think of aliases for ourselves too. I think a common, ordinary name would be best, but they’d have to be names we can recognize and respond to immediately, if need be.”

“My family sometimes calls me ‘Wal,’ so I have no doubt I’ll respond to that. I suppose ‘Al’ might work as well.”

“Wald” and “Al.”

I nodded in approval. The name “Al” had the desired effect—it sounded distinctly less regal.

“I’ll call you Al, then.”

The prince went quiet for a moment. “You can call me ‘Wal’ too, you know...?” he said. “But call me ‘Al’ if we’re talking in front of strangers. Furthermore, I’d like you to speak to me in a more casual manner, like you would a younger brother. You needn’t be so polite around me.”

“If you’re certain— Uh, if you’re sure.”

As for me, I definitely wasn’t so sure about that. I didn’t think I could get used to that, at least not right away. I wasn’t clever enough to be able to code-switch from “polite” to literally any other level of diction when it came to addressing a prince.

I’d just have to do my best. No siblings would ever talk to each other like a vassal would to his prince, after all. Besides, we couldn’t afford to let anyone even marginally suspect his true identity.

“Um, let’s see, what else... How about we think of an alias for me now?” I asked. “What would be a good name for ‘Al’s’ older brother?”

An alias, huh? Well, as far as something that I’d respond to right away, maybe my old name would work? Nah. It was way too Japanese. Anyone who hears it would instantly know I’m a transmigrator. Hmm... But since we have an Al, how about a Kal?

“We could adjust your alias depending on the situation,” Wald suggested. “You won’t need to give your name that often. I’ll need an alias since you’ll be referring to me by name if I’m to be your younger brother, but I imagine I’ll be referring to you as ‘brother’ in most cases. That way, if people happen to overhear us talking, they’ll assume we are siblings.”

“Oh, uh, maybe tone down the formality—instead of ‘brother,’ you can call me your ‘bro’ or ‘big bro.’”

Please, Your Highness. At this rate, people are going to know you grew up in gilded halls the second you open your mouth!

“All right, ‘bro,’ then... It’s strange; even though I had two older brothers, it feels quite curious to refer to you thus.”

He quietly laughed at that.

A smile had finally come to his face. I was relieved.

“I’ll dye my hair, but how are you going to disguise yourself, big bro?”

“I can probably pass the color of my skin off as a tan. And since my scruff’s starting to grow back, I was thinking of letting it grow out to cover my face...”

“Huh?!” Wald stared at me with open shock.

Man, it’s so embarrassing to be stared at so hard, and all the more so by someone good-looking. But wait, why’s he reacting so poorly? Huh? Is there a problem with growing my beard out? Being unkempt would make me a more convincing mountain man, though...

He sighed. “Never mind. I understand. It’s a necessary sacrifice, and we have no choice. We have to hide your face... We have to...”

Wald was clearly grappling with no small amount of distress as he pressured himself to accept my proposal. I assured him I would shave if the beard ended up becoming unneeded, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

I wasn’t sure whether he didn’t like being around dirty barbarians, or maybe he simply didn’t understand the beauty of beards. Beards were nice. In the winter, they’d keep your lips nice and warm and protected from the cold... Though, to be fair, it was starting to warm up at this time of year.

54. Eastward

After spending the entire day preparing for our journey, we finally had everything ready. From chairs to clothes, I brought all my power as a middling, no-name craftsman to bear as I made things like mad.

For our new clothing, I used leather as a base for both our tops and bottoms. I fashioned fur jackets with monster pelts and made belts to fasten them.

Monster fur provided warmth as well as protection against attacks by both blade and fang. I thought adding a beast skull to the shoulder might look pretty cool, but I stopped myself—that would’ve screamed cliché barbarian.

The belt had a space to tuck a knife neatly in. I added a small, sturdy case as well, for good measure. Inside that was a variety of potions along with a single bottle of elixir—for an emergency.

I had also crafted undergarments to wear beneath the leather attire and a bangle that rested on my wrist. This defensive accessory could afford two instances of revival, and it also boasted improved resistance to magically inflicted damage and status afflictions. The prince also had the Royal Diadem equipped, so his resistances were improved as a result. Anyway, to keep the bangle secured in place, I wound a wide leather strap both over the bangle and up the sleeve, securing it at the elbow.

In terms of footwear, I crafted leather boots with thick soles for us. These were secured in a similar way to the bangles, as they were tied with leather straps wrapped around our legs that reached just below the knee.

Generally speaking, for travelers, the straps weren’t meant to be untied at any point during their journey. The leather wound around your hands stayed on even when washing up, and the boots stayed on whenever people slept outdoors.

People here, by and large...didn’t change their clothes. They just wore the same underwear forever too...

Because the threat of being attacked by monsters was a constant concern after leaving settlements, travelers always kept their equipment on during their journey out of self-preservation.

Clothes could be washed once reaching a safe area, such as an inn where weary wanderers could stay the night. Since additional clothing was only excess baggage to a traveler, they usually only had the one set of clothes on their backs. As they’d wash their laundry and hang it out to dry overnight, they’d sleep in the buff.

I used to be Japanese, so I couldn’t stand such atrocious hygiene practices. That was why I used a lot of bug and monster repellent—that way, I would be able to change my clothes in peace. But anyway, enough of that.

I crafted a hooded, waterproof cloak to wear over our fur jackets.

And last but not least, I had made a pack that could be slung easily over my shoulders. It was stuffed full with supplies, complete with a blanket securely lashed.

Standing before me was a raven-haired boy wearing an identical outfit to mine.

I had asked him to braid my hair, which he did with the addition of a thin leather cord. That accessory subtly made my hairstyle match my clothes.

“Well, this is how hunters from the mountains dress when they venture out to common society. We’ll be wearing these for a while as we trace the Northern Ridges eastward.”

Wald nodded at my casual, unadorned words. I continued.

“If we continue traveling east, we’ll eventually come across a wide river. From there, we’ll follow it south and look for a town. I’d like to buy the supplies we’re still missing there.”

Wald nodded again and, after a moment of thought, spoke. “I’d also like to send a letter. I need to inform Catharine and Lucian of my well-being in more detail.”

His survival could be confirmed at the Right of Rule, but regardless, he seemed eager to report on his current situation. It would be risky, but we had no choice. Tiuccia must’ve been thrown into a state of turmoil with its heir apparent missing.

According to Wald, the royal family had its own secret means of communication, so we decided to make use of it to send the letter. In the game of my old life, letters could easily be sent through the adventurer’s guild...but even if they still handled mail in this world, there was no way we could use them.

“Okay, let’s get going now— Oh, you can put our supplies down. I just wanted to check how heavy it’d be on you.”

“But I can carry my own share of the luggage,” Wald said.

“It’s pretty tough to get used to hiking out in the brush, just saying. As long as no one’s around, I can just toss it all into my storage, so let’s just keep water flasks on us for now; you can get one out from your pack and tie it onto your belt. We’re probably going to be camping outdoors for a while, so let’s get you used to living outside until we reach a town.”

If one could reach a town in just a few nights, there would have been someone living in this orange grove. But if this place had only been constructed for the purpose of collecting honey from the grove while its harvesters were en route between places, then the nearest village was a long way off.

“Once we make it out of the woods and reach a flat plain, we can take advantage of Jump to move as well,” I said.

I smiled at the prince, who had only nodded along quietly. Once I checked my compass to confirm which direction east lay in, we set out.

We passed several old stelae covered by earth and left the orange grove. The forest soon gave way to a vast wilderness that had yet to show any sign of new plant growth.

Overhead, a blue sky stretched out forever in every direction. The land that spread out before us was a gentle rolling hillside dotted with boulders of all sizes.

The dipping parts of the hills seemed to have terrible water drainage. Although shrubbery grew in the low areas, it was easy to see that the ground there was wet and muddy. Since any of these muddy areas could be hiding a bottomless mud pit, I figured it was best to stay on the higher ground as we made our way.

Far across the hilly plains to the north, which lay to our left, was a massive stretch of mountains that continued as far as the eye could see. That was the Northern Ridges. Its peaks were capped with white snow and glittered with a bright light as they reflected the sun’s rays. Deep under that mountain belt lay the dwarven nation.

We had been following a path threading between the trees, but as soon as we broke through the forest’s treeline, the path suddenly veered north. Leaving that path behind, we began to trudge toward the untamed land that lay before us.

We walked in silence for a bit. Dry grass crunched under our feet.

I spoke to the young man at my side. “Wal, I’d like for you to master Jumping before we arrive at the borders of the Northern Bloc.”

Oh, yeah... At his request, I’d started calling him by his old nickname. Apparently, he preferred it, since it had been his nickname since he was a child.

Wald didn’t respond, so I continued. “I don’t think we’ll need to worry about Khrasiel coming after us for the next few months. We teleported here randomly from a portal in Tachyrinn, after all, so we’ve shaken them from our trail for now.”

The prince only nodded silently as he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground. The earth was rocky beneath the dried grass. For someone unaccustomed to walking on such uneven footing, it must’ve been difficult.

“Khrasiel will realize you’ve ended up somewhere in the Northern Bloc before long—if you had teleported to a friendly country, there would soon be news of your return to Tiuccia. And if you had ended up in the edgelands instead, Tiuccia would be announcing that the light had faded from your name at the moment of your death, but that won’t be happening either.”

That was a testament to the dangers of the edgelands. That area nearly encircled the Central Nations, and the strength of the monsters that lived there was on another level entirely. Even in my past life, the edgelands had been sequestered on their own dedicated server.

To even unlock the edgelands, a player needed to have achieved A-tier proficiency. Considering the prince’s combat proficiency was a mere C-tier at the moment, if he were to be thrown into there, he wouldn’t have been able to reactivate the portal once he’d arrived because his MP capacity would’ve been too low. If he dared to set foot outside the building housing the portal itself, he’d instantly be killed by an S-rank monster.

“Khrasiel will probably keep an eye on the situation for the next few months. Once they’ve determined you’re located somewhere in their own backyard, they’ll have all of the Bloc’s borders sealed off to keep you from escaping to a nation outside their influence.”

“We cannot escape going west, north, or south. We really have no choice but to head east?” he asked me.

“Right. They may have also put you on a wanted list. So we’ll keep you from being discovered and proceed as close to the eastern borders as we can, and at that point, we’ll chain Jump to break through and out of enemy territory.”

I wouldn’t be able to Jump the entire way through the blockade with Wald in tow, as the strain would be too great. I needed him to learn to Jump on his own.

“Even ordinary citizens of this world can use Jump as long as they’ve reached B-tier proficiency in magic and have a piece of equipment that boosts their aptitude,” I said. “I can provide you with one, so let’s have you push your magical proficiency past B-tier and master Jump.”

After a long stretch of silence, the young prince finally nodded. When he spoke again, his voice was low. “All right. I’d like to improve my magical proficiency as well. I... I swear, one day, I’ll do to them what they did to— Whoa! Ahh!”

“Be careful where you step—”

I reached out to stabilize the tripping young man and pulled him into an embrace.

“We’re gonna Jump to a spot where the ground’s dry. Three, two, one—”

I cast Jump so we’d land at the top of a nearby hill.

Looking around from our somewhat high vantage point, we could see the vast wilderness stretching as far as the horizon. Wald, who had been clinging to me, lifted his head and looked all around us in astonishment at the grandness of Mother Nature.

“You don’t need to keep your guard up for the enemy,” I said gently. “We’re only at the start of our journey. Let’s take it easy; we have a long way to go, after all.”

“Right...”

The young man had very nearly fallen into a deep, dark place. A grim expression had been clouding his face as he’d muttered his responses. I closed my eyes and simply patted him on the back as I stood at his side.

In our last few days at Tachyrinn, I knew that something had snapped inside me, so I understood how he felt.

But Nadar hadn’t been a father or a brother to me.

And besides, I’d had that dream. Seeing his kind, gentle smile had rescued me from the brink.

I knew the pain of losing his family wouldn’t go away for Wald anytime soon. He had no choice but to let time heal his wounds.

I doubted he’d ever forget the pain and despair of losing the Croway front either.

His homeland was still continuing to fight the war.

He’d suffered unimaginable losses, was thrown to some far-flung land in escape, and had lost everything he knew.

I know your pain must be so crushing, so bitter, that you can hardly stand it.

But you’re not alone. I’m with you.

Here, in this faraway world that so resembles a game that granted me fantastical abilities in kind, I’ll be your strength.

55. Back to Boot Camp

Just past noon on the day we left the orange grove and began our trek eastward, Prince Wald was no longer able to continue walking.

Well, it wasn’t really a surprise. The ground in this wasteland was beyond terrible. It was completely uneven and covered with mud. There were boulders of all sizes everywhere, and what dry grass remained tended to get caught on our boots.

On top of all this, we were attacked by monsters. For a blessing, they were all D-rank weaklings, so I managed to take care of them all myself.

We started setting up camp early that day.

Although he still seemed unsteady on his feet, the prince began to gather twigs and grass to use as kindling, just as I’d asked him before. I hadn’t even needed to suggest that he do it.

I had noticed that while we’d been walking, if he happened to trip somewhere and I gave him advice, he never made the same mistake a second time. I knew how diligent he was whenever he set about a task from his time masquerading as Catharine, so this was a good reminder of how astute and competent he was.

“There’s something about the way he’s trying so hard to be helpful that’s kind of impressive...” I mused to myself. I appreciated it, far more than if he’d been haughty or if he’d ordered me around. He hadn’t been taking me for granted.

After he finished his dinner, the prince rolled up in his blanket and fell asleep so quickly and soundly that I almost thought he’d passed out.

I slipped off my muddied boots and sat cross-legged in front of the open fire to make adjustments to them. Because boots qualified as equipment, they automatically adjusted to the correct size for your feet, but I figured the treads in the soles could be a bit deeper.

When I told Wald that I’d give him a walking stick on the morrow to help him traverse the rocky, muddy land better, he stared at me in wide-eyed shock. I was sure he was probably wondering why I hadn’t given him a walking stick from the start if I had one.

It’d been on purpose, of course.

Why had he tripped? What had caused him to stumble? If he hadn’t actually experienced falling in the first place, then he’d never learn how or why he might fail.

He had gazed off into the distance as he’d listened to me explain my reasoning. I think he must’ve realized my intentions.

Yeah, you’ll fall. Even if you use a walking stick. Drill these failures into your body. Learn from your mistakes and pain.

This was like my boot camp training course for greenhorns ages ago. I wasn’t going to let him take it easy. He’d have to push himself to the bone, eat the food I made for him, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

Most importantly, the princeling who’d grown up in secluded halls needed to build some muscle. Jump didn’t only cost MP—it took a huge toll on the body too.

I had added a recovery potion to our dinner to ensure our exhaustion from the day didn’t carry over to the next. There was plenty of food for seconds as well... Though, to be honest, it was less that I’d made enough for seconds and more that I had a huge stash of food that I’d stockpiled over the past two years in my storage. So if the prince had wanted more, he could’ve eaten as much as he liked.

Once the prince fell asleep, I started on my own late-night crafting hours.

I added grips to our belts that could be easily grabbed for whenever we needed to Jump. Then, to alleviate the amount of weight that our hips had to support, I made the belts longer so they could be crossed over our shoulders and secured over our chests.

Considering how full our hip pouches were, I figured they’d get in the way as they were. I modified the belts at the seam to include a spot to hook potions.

***

Though the travails of our daily treks should have worn him out practically to the point of unconsciousness, Wald would still toss and turn during the night. He must’ve still been plagued by nightmares.

Worried, I made sure to sit next to him and kept a careful eye out. Sometimes, if I stroked his head, he’d drift off into a deeper sleep.

Whenever he shot up into wakefulness, my presence must’ve offered him some measure of solace. I was his only ally now, after all.

At other times, he would reach for my hand—I gladly gave it to him. One time, as he clasped my hand with his, he murmured that it was warm. I found him a warmer blanket the next day.

Oh, but although I stayed up late, I did make sure to get enough sleep myself. I would set up a protective barrier around our campsite every night. Unfortunately, one barrier would only last six hours, so I’d have to wait until midnight to activate it. It would last until morning at that point, so that was when I’d power it up before snoozing myself.

When I woke in the morning, I’d often find that the prince had nestled up close to me at some point during the night, and parts of his body would be resting against mine. The sensation of having someone next to him must’ve made him feel safe.

After falling over and over again, his once-new clothes had become comfortably well-worn and dirtied. Oh, but I made sure to prepare new underwear for him reasonably often. We bathed too, even though it was just the open tub in the great outdoors.

To tell the truth, reliable ol’ Kariya of Gaelius...didn’t own a tent. Before getting conscripted, I had always used Jump and Return to get home every night whenever I’d gone on an excursion.

Man. Sleeping outdoors in the rain is brutal.

Next time we reach a town, I’ll buy materials to craft a tent. I do have the recipe, at least.

When the prince had gotten used to walking in the wilderness, I gave him some of our supplies to carry. Eventually, he was also able to hold a conversation as we traveled.

Though he’d once been singularly focused on watching where he walked, he could now cast his gaze up at the wide open skies with unbridled excitement.

A passing flight of wyverns was flying northward from the south. We watched as dozens of wyverns of all sizes flapped their mighty wings in the heavens as they flew on.

“Kariya, do you think that flight of dragons is heading for the Northern Ridges?” Wald asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. If you look north past the Gaelius Mountains from Tiuccia, which is just about in the middle of the Central Nations, you’ll find the largest lake in Golden Dawn—Terrestrial Sea. Wyverns spend their winters there, and once spring arrives, they fly back north.”

Since Tiuccia was south of the mountains, he must’ve never seen wyverns before. The look on his face was full of innocent wonderment, just the sort of expression I’d expect from a teen his age.

Wyverns didn’t eat during their migration, which was why we could simply enjoy watching them fly by as if we didn’t have a care in the world.

“Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could capture one and domesticate it? We could get back to Tiuccia in an instant if we rode one.”

“I don’t know if a grown dragon could learn to like humans. But if we raised a hatchling from the egg, we might be able to ride it one day,” I reasoned.

“Like a dragonrider? I hear of them often in legends, although I’ve been told that we no longer tame dragons. It must be really hard to get the eggs...”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing how he’d gotten so rosy-eyed at the idea. Upon hearing me, the prince blushed furiously and cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment.

“I-I mean, I was only thinking it might be nice, were it possible.”

“You should give up on taming a dragon,” I said. “While stealing eggs from a nest is already hard enough, the bigger issue is feeding it.”

“Really?” The prince tilted his head in consternation.

“To put it in simple terms, you’d need money for its feed. A single wyvern can eat two cows in a single day.”

He stared at me in silence.

Sorry it wasn’t a wonderfully starry-eyed reason, Wald.

There had, in fact, been dragonriders in Golden Dawn. But while it was simple enough to buy feed with a click of the button, I bet gathering that many cows in real life would be a pain.

Not only that, but wyverns were kind of weak monsters on their own. I was pretty sure that if a nation were to seriously consider using them, they’d need at least ten. That’d cost them twenty cows a day, or six hundred in a month. So the real issue at hand was that they weren’t really good for the wallet...

56. Mermerl

In the world of Golden Dawn, monsters and regular old animals had been clearly differentiated. Simply put, their colors were different.

This was a pretty common way to designate monsters in games in general. Although two models might’ve been identical, the creatures might have been colored differently to indicate their relative strength. Monsters and animals in Golden Dawn had been like that too.

Let’s consider sheep, for example.

Ordinary sheep were livestock. They looked just like they had in my old world: white and fluffy. They even made the same “meehh, meehh” sounds I recalled from Japan.

But there were also sheeplike monsters that were quite unlike the kind of sheep kept by shepherds. Mermerls, they were called. On the outside, they were virtually indistinguishable from sheep except for the fact that their fleece was yellow. True to their name, they made “meerr, meerrr” sounds instead.

As E-rank monsters, mermerls were among the weakest creatures in the Central Nations—an area already known for being newbie-friendly.

But that was if they were alone.

Mermerls tended to flock in herds. If a player encountered a large group of them, the group would be more like an A-rank or even an S-rank enemy.

And we just so happened to run into one such mermerl flock... Or rather, we were drowning in a sea of them.

I had recklessly chosen to lead us in a straight line through the pathless wilderness.

The reasons for this were threefold. First, I wanted us to put as much distance between us and the teleportation portal as possible. Next, I figured we’d throw any pursuers off by taking an unlikely plan of action. Thirdly, it would help build up the prince’s stamina.

This was all made possible by the fact that I had a cornucopia of things I had squirreled away. Even if we didn’t stop by any settlements to resupply, we could survive. There was nothing we had wanted for, and while my combat proficiency was still just a middling B-tier, I was practically invincible when it came to fighting off the monsters that nested in the Central Nations.

Thinking about it, that was probably why I had gotten a little bigheaded and had let my guard down.

Disaster struck just a few days after we’d finally reached the large river and had begun following it southward.

I’d turned in for the night after we made camp. When I woke, we were surrounded by a sea of yellow.

“Morning, Kariya.”

Prince Wald had evidently woken up before me. I found him at the edge of the barrier around our camp, observing the mermerls curiously.

This protective barrier, which I erected every time we made camp, was perfectly impenetrable from the outside.

The prince had been well aware of this from our many nights of camping, and I had felt safe as well, so I’d pulled my covers up all the way over my head and had slept like a log. That was why I had never noticed the mermerls approaching, nor heard their bleating.

I called to Wald quietly, trying to make sure he could hear me without startling the mermerls. “Your Highness, be careful not to raise your voice or make any sudden movements.”

I didn’t sense any hostility from the surrounding beasts, which was likely another reason I hadn’t noticed their approach. They must’ve come to get a drink of water at the river.

The fluffy, puffy stream of yellow continued up and over the rolling hills. Though they couldn’t pass through the barrier despite seeing nothing there that would impede them, the mermerls, overcome with curiosity, continued pressing their bodies against the invisible wall in an effort to push through.

We were surrounded.

Much like the mermerls, the prince also seemed to be brimming with curiosity as he tilted his head in wonderment.

“All right. Are these monsters dangerous?” he asked.

“Not at all, as long as they’re not provoked. But the barrier should be wearing off soon, so come here. Slowly—”

“Oh!” gasped Wald.

The barrier disappeared, and the mermerls immediately surged into our campsite.

They probably hadn’t interacted much with humans before, if at all. I couldn’t sense the slightest bit of ill will from them.

In fact, all I could feel was their overwhelming excitement and curiosity.

I’ve never seen anything like these two befooore.

They’re not enemies, riiight?

Nah, they’re not scary at all. I bet they’re saaafe.

I spoke to the prince. “Did you notice, Your Highness? Mermerls have an ability called Sympathy—it allows them to resonate with others. They can share their thoughts with us, and they’re able to sense our thoughts as well, so don’t think of doing anything violent. As long as we don’t provoke them, they’re only E-rank monsters, so they’re not dangerous at all.”

“All right... But they must be monsters to be wary of if you’ve judged them to be dangerous.”

“Huh? Do you also have the Sympathy ability?”

“No, you’ve just started speaking like you’re my bodyguard again.”

Flustered, I corrected my tone. “Uh, so just stay right there and don’t move. That way, you can keep from alerting them. The flock will eventually move on, so just make sure not to startle them until then—”

Yeah, yeah. You’re scared of us, aren’tchaaa?

Because they were crowding around us, their feelings were coming through to me crystal clear. And they were obnoxious.

Towering above the yellow sea and sticking out like a sore thumb, I explained the dangers of the mermerl to the prince. He was stuck a short distance away from me.

Mermerl wool could be spun to make shining golden thread. But even so, going after a mermerl herd was too dangerous. While they were ordinarily docile creatures, their fur would crackle with electricity when they were agitated. Because of Sympathy, if this happened while they were grouped up in a herd, that electricity would spread and multiply until it became lightning magic.

“If they strike us with their lightning while we’re surrounded like this, we’d die in an instant. There’d be nothing left of us but ash.”

“I see.”

“Ordinarily, we’d avoid getting surrounded in the first place. If I were alone, I’d use Jump to escape right about now. But that’s not a choice for us at the moment—you’re too far away from me.”

He bowed his head in remorse. “I’m sorry. This only happened because I misjudged the amount of time remaining on the barrier and approached the mermerls to look at them.”

I wasn’t exactly one to talk, but I wanted the prince to act with due caution.

I didn’t want him to rely on the barrier too much. There was never a guarantee that we could reliably Jump away from danger either—unless we were already physically touching, we wouldn’t be able to teleport together.

“Luckily for us, we’re only dealing with mermerls this time. They’re really nothing to be afraid of as long as they’re not provoked...” I trailed off as I realized that my charge had apparently stopped listening to me—he was now preoccupied. I sighed. “I was just telling you about how dangerous they are, so what do you think you’re doing, young man?”

Ahh, that feels so gooood.

Nice and tiiidy...

Clean me toooo...

For some reason or other, Prince Wald was grooming a mermerl. He was picking the crusted sleep rheum away from its eyes with his fingernails.

A wave of happy emotions from the mermerls washed over me.

And then...more of the sheepy creatures began crowding around Wald.

I’d been slowly trying to tiptoe my way to him, but now, the mermerls were packed so tightly that I couldn’t get any closer.

“Uh, Wal?”

“Sorry. I just thought they must find it hard to see, so I started cleaning one without thinking about it...”

“Well... Be sure to wear your gloves; they’re still wild animals,” I reminded him.

I couldn’t exactly tell him to stop at this point. The mermerls were crowding around him expectantly.

Well, given our current situation, it wasn’t as though there was anything else that could be done. We didn’t have a choice but to stand around in place until the mermerls left of their own accord.

Aquatic monsters dwelled in the depths of large rivers. Because of that, it was dangerous to be around a riverbank at night, so other monsters were sure to leave them by dusk. I was sure that this sea of mermerls would disperse around that time as well.

Fittingly for a warming month such as this, the last of the wyverns were flying overhead from the south to the north.

All was peaceful on the ground as well. I only wished that we hadn’t been surrounded by the flock of mermerls.

They were, on the whole, moving. But there were so many of them around us that the two of us had been totally stuck. We each had water and rations on hand, so we ate where we stood.

Now in charge of eye gunk removal, the prince was leisurely engaging with the mermerls.

I had my hands free, but even if I wanted to do something, I was too scared of the mermerls surrounding me. I’d tried to get them to warm up to me by similarly grooming them, but they ignored me, thinking that I was a whiskered barbarian. They seemed to prefer the pretty little prince, anyhow.

Damn, did these monsters have to be so openly honest?

“Oh, right... Wal? Is it okay if I ask you some questions? I need to verify a few things.”

“I’d be happy to tell you anything I know,” Wald gently replied.

I lowered my voice. “I want to know more about the adventurer’s guild. Does the guild hold as much power as a state?”

Wald’s hands stopped.

When the mermerls sensed his heightened stress, they began to bleat agitatedly.

This was a mistake—I shouldn’t have asked him that just then. But just as I began to panic, the prince quickly stroked the mermerls on their heads to placate them.

“If you’re asking whether they’re equivalent to a state, then no, they’re not considered equal,” he began. “Regardless of the de facto situation, the adventurer’s guild is—just as with the mercantile and craftsman guilds—a private organization for the people. It’s an entity legally protected by the countries in which it’s established.”

“So, does that mean they can’t issue orders to a state?”

“That’s correct. The guild is not a sovereign nation in and of itself. They actually have to pay taxes, and they ordinarily maintain a position of subordination to the state. I suppose they could offer advice to the state, but they are by no means on equal grounds.”

“I see... But wouldn’t their actions against Tiuccia be considered interventionism?” I asked.

And if so, considering their position as a private organization, couldn’t their interventionism be considered unjust?

The prince closed his emerald green eyes tightly. “Correct again. It would, indeed, be considered interventionism. The case six years ago has already been closed. By all rights, they shouldn’t be able to mete out additional punishment...”

Right, they shouldn’t.

Which meant...

“That’s why they needed Khrasiel to take the stage,” I suggested.

Something Sakita had said back in Tachyrinn had been gnawing at the back of my mind.

Six years ago, Tiuccia had paid the guild’s demands for the incident, so the whole issue should have been considered a closed case. The erasure of names from the Right of Rule was House Tiuccia’s problem, which meant it was Tiuccia’s own internal affair.

The adventurer’s guild wasn’t a nation. It had neither the right nor the qualifications to voice a complaint about a domestic issue in a sovereign nation.

“They really had their own go at ‘peace unto the land, plenty for king and pauper all,’ didn’t they?” I said.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, it’s a reference to a famous historical event in my old world. Although the victim hadn’t committed any wrongs, the perpetrator deliberately misconstrued those words as an insult and used them to justify the use of force.”

The story went that, back in the Warring States period in Japan, the Toyotomi clan had presented a bell to Hokoji Temple. Those words had been inscribed on it. Ieyasu Tokugawa, the shogun then, had deliberately misinterpreted the text to be a slight on his name and rule. He had then launched a series of battles against the Toyotomi in the Siege of Osaka, which had ended in the annihilation of their entire clan.

In this situation, the offense taken regarding the names that’d been erased from Tiuccia’s Right of Rule was likely being used as a pretext for war. Ordinarily, the removal of names from a family line would be considered a punishment for those people. Given that, House Tiuccia should’ve been lauded for their decision—not criticized.

Maybe Sakita had a grudge against House Tiuccia.

But there was a clear possibility that the adventurer’s guild might’ve exploited both his hatred and Khrasiel as a whole for their own ends...

I asked Wald whether the adventurer’s guild and Khrasiel had some sort of special relationship, and his reply affirmed my suspicions.

“The current queen of Khrasiel is a transmigrator,” Wald answered.

Not only that, but she had been one of the transmigrators who had left Tiuccia six years ago. Given that, it was easy to guess that she and the guild were connected behind the scenes.

I’d heard that Raghion held no sway over the adventurer’s guild, and in fact, it had been the other way around—they said the guild was controlling the empire. It wouldn’t be a long shot to imagine Khrasiel was also controlling Raghion.

“I see. Looks like Tiuccia might’ve been set up for a fall,” I suggested.

I didn’t know the actual truth of the events that had transpired all those years ago. All I could do was make a stab at it by considering the circumstances after the fact.

“At any rate, as far as the removal of names from the Right of Rule goes, neither the guild nor Khrasiel nor anyone else, for that matter, is entitled to interfere with Tiuccia’s domestic affairs. In fact, I think you and your house have suffered the most out of anyone—it couldn’t have been an easy decision to erase the names of family you once knew, to pretend they had never existed at all,” I said.

After all, the members of Tiuccia’s royal house had seemed to be so close to one another.

Besides, the excuse about resolving the tragedy of Tariyth was nothing more than a pretext in my eyes.

The members of the Tiuccian royal family who had been involved had been killed; the guild had exacted its revenge. If the guild’d gotten their pound of flesh and had closed discussions, then the angered transmigrators had no choice but to accept the outcome. If they’d had an issue with how the situation had been resolved, they should have voiced their dissent at the time.

“Huh?”

The air crackled.

He’s an enemy, isn’t heee?

For some reason, I could sense hostility distinctly rising from the mermerls.

He’s bullying the little one, riiight?

The little one’s cryiiing.

The little one’s crying because of hiiim.

The accusations startled me. “Wait, what?”

Clear tears were rolling down Wald’s fair cheeks. When the mermerls around him saw his tears trickle down his face, they started bleating. They sounded concerned.

Then, the creatures turned to glare at the object of their ire: me.

He’s a bad person, yeeeah?

He’s making the little one cry, yeaaah?

So that means he really is an enemy, riiight?

Sudden peril was staring me in the face.

“Wait,” I said.

I wanted to back away from the balls of fluff sparking with electricity, but the mermerls behind me blocked my retreat.

Wait, we can talk this out! If you strike me with lightning now, I’ll probably survive, but the “little one” there will get caught in the blast and die, you know?!

Then, after that happened, they’d get really pissed off and kill me for real. I could see it all unfolding already.

“I’m okay,” Wald said. “Don’t worry.”

The mermerls’ spiking hostility faded at the sound of the prince’s gentle voice.

Are you really okay, little ooone?

Have you cheered uuup?

Is everything fiiine?

They looked up at him concernedly. He smiled gently down at them...and seeing that, I thought he’d probably make a pretty good Monster Tamer. His charisma was no joke.

“Can you let me through?” he asked.

At his entreaty, the mermerls who had been standing between me and Wald stepped aside.

“This whole time, I’ve wished that someone would understand how I felt. Thank you, Kariya...”

Now standing before me, Wald gave me a glowing smile through the tears that still dampened his cheeks.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around me in a great hug, which I returned...and we Jumped the hell out of that flock of mermerls.

Damn, I Jumped really far. I drained all of my MP.

Back in Golden Dawn, players had used the term “mermerl death” to refer to someone getting killed by a flock of sheep. I didn’t want to die because of sheep here—the embarrassment would kill me twice over.

“Oh, I see the outer walls of a town,” Wald suddenly said.

I looked out across the plains, now green with newly budding grass heralding the coming of spring.

Sure enough, looming on the horizon were the tall, ashen stone walls of a large town.

57. The First Town

After having crossed the vast wilderness, we arrived at a town called Helenna.

It was about the same size as Ruicerl, the town that had been designated the rendezvous point for Tiuccia’s conscripts. That meant that Helenna was likely a key town for this region.

The name of Helenna didn’t ring a bell for me, despite my inherited knowledge of Golden Dawn. Prince Wald knew of it, however.

Helenna was a provincial town of a small country in the northernmost part of the Northern Bloc. In terms of its location relative to the Central Nations, this country was still within the same area as the teleportation portal we’d arrived at, 02:03. Our final goal was still a far way off.

The required toll for entry was posted in front of the gate that allowed passage into the town. They were asking thirty gold per person.

To be perfectly honest...what a rip-off!

But I guess if any place were going to charge such an exorbitant price to get through the door, it would be a town guarded by a high outer wall like this. Maybe the toll was a maintenance fee or a safety guarantee.

All of the villages I’d visited before had been surrounded by rickety wooden fences, so I’d only ever paid unremarkable tolls till now.

The fee must’ve been expensive because of the size of the town. Apparently, Ruicerl had asked a high price as well, which would’ve been impossible for a mere conscript to pay.

I’d been freely able to pass through its gates without paying the toll, but now that I thought about it, I’d had a permit at the time.

“Kariya, are we really going to stop by the town?” Wald quietly asked at my side.

We were lined up to enter. Wald had pulled his cowl all the way over his head, burying his face in the depths of his cloak.

“They appear to be doing a rather strict inspection. Wouldn’t it be much safer to go to a smaller town?” he suggested.

“No, we’ll have to enter a town of this size to get our business out of the way.”

The prince had said he wanted to send his family a letter, after all. We’d need to stop by the merchant’s guild. That guild wouldn’t bother setting up a branch somewhere unless the settlement were at least a town of this size.

We didn’t have a choice; all we could do was grit our teeth and go in. I was certain we’d be fine—our cover wouldn’t be blown that easily.

“I’ll handle everything at the gate. You can just pretend you’re shy and stick close behind me—you won’t have to speak to the guards or anything,” I told him.

“Next in line!” the gatekeeper called out.

“Oh, coming!” I hurriedly responded.

The inspection of the wagon ahead of us must’ve just finished.

Since we had been called, we passed by the armed guards to stand before a government official. He was a difficult-looking man who was getting well on in his years.

“Two highlanders, eh? Don’t see you lot come down here often. So, what’re you in Helenna for?”

I offered him an account that Wald and I had agreed on during our trek through the wilderness.

“Our village chief asked us to go to the merchant’s guild in this town on an errand, as well as to purchase some supplies,” I said.

“An errand?” the man repeated, probing for more details.

“A delivery. We don’t know what’s inside.”

He studied us with a steely glare and snorted. “Hmph. That’ll be sixty gold for the two of you, then. Here are your papers proving you have the right to enter; be sure to keep them on you at all times. We’ll take them back when you leave, but we’ll give you a token in exchange that’ll reduce the toll on your next visit.” His heavy gaze fell on Wald for a moment. “What’s the relationship between you and your companion?”

“He’s my brother,” I answered nonchalantly.

“Hm... ‘Brother,’ eh?”

An exasperated grunt escaped him as he passed me the now-ready papers. On them were written a brief description of my appearance as the representative of my party, notes regarding the purpose of our visit, and one last word: “brothers.”

I paid the sixty gold, and he handed me our receipts.

Man, security’s so tight in big towns.

At least it seemed to be a bit more lax when it came to additional visits after the first.

To the side of the line we were in, a farmer who must’ve made regular vegetable deliveries here showed a wooden token to the guard on duty. He was waved through after paying a mere ten gold. He wasn’t even asked to alight from his wagon.

“Next!”

The official called out to those next in line behind us. I placed a hand on the prince’s back and nudged him forward into the town.

***

Helenna was bustling with activity.

The streets were cobblestone, and the first road we encountered immediately after passing through the gates was lined with massive, three-story houses. They almost certainly belonged to merchants.

Actually...this might have been the first time I’d ever seen such large buildings lined up along a street in this world. Even the largest buildings in Ruicerl were no more than two stories. Tachyrinn had been five stories tall, but since it was a citadel, it didn’t count.

“Eh, I’m sure things’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out,” I said.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Kariya! You’re making me nervous!”

“It’s fine, seriously. First, let’s look for an inn. You can tell which buildings offer lodgings pretty easily from the signs they hang outside—they’ll have an icon of a bed. There’s no mistaking it.”

“Come on, even I know that much! Is everything really okay, Kariya?!”

We’re pretending to be country bumpkins fresh from the mountains, Your Highness! It’s okay to pretend you’re not very knowledgeable of the wider world!

Inns lined the streets of the lodgings quarter of Helenna. By the time we arrived there, it was just after the usual checkout time. The area was comparatively devoid of people.

Peeking into the inns from the street, I looked for one where a woman was working the reception.

“How about here?”

I could see a middle-aged woman cleaning through the window of one inn. She seemed kind and gentle from her mien, so I thought it would be a good choice. I led the prince inside.

A vase full of fresh flowers had been placed on the reception counter, and the inn itself gave the impression of being sparkling clean—it was clearly a top-class establishment. As we entered, the woman, as well as another woman who looked slightly younger than the first, minutely raised an eyebrow. Our mountain-man appearances probably didn’t do us any favors.

“I’m very sorry, sir, but we’re still in the middle of tidying up. Could you come back in the evening?”

“Sorry. We’ve only just arrived in Helenna, and we’re tired from the journey. If you have a room available for two, for a three-night stay, we’ll gladly take it.”

“Please, sir. Do you understand what sort of establishment this is?” one of the women asked.

“I really want to let my brother rest,” I pleaded, then slid my attention to Wald. “C’mon, Al, pull down your hood and say hello to the proprietress.”

At my urging, the prince tugged the hood from his head and looked at his feet.

“Um, I apologize that my brother’s being so obstinate... Sorry.”

About one month had passed since we’d passed through the portal and had been flung to this far-off corner of the land. He’d managed to build a little more muscle, although I couldn’t describe his frame as being particularly athletic. He was still the same gorgeous young lady of a prince.

This inn was a family-friendly establishment that catered specifically to groups that included at least one female guest. Had I been alone, I would’ve been able to sleep under the entirely unsafe eaves of an empty stable at a third-rate inn instead. But I didn’t want to make the prince stay at a seedy place like that. Sleeping in a stable was completely out of the question anyway, and so too were shared lodgings where even the beds would be split with strangers.

There was absolutely no way we could do that. That would be like throwing a rabbit into a den of wolves. His virtue would be lost within the day.

So if I had to shell out money to buy his safety, I’d do it.

This inn, in particular, was a place meant to be safe even for lone female travelers. I knew that once the proprietress saw Wald’s face, she’d be sure to realize why I’d insisted on letting my “brother” stay here.

Wald was sporting a stiff look on his face out of nervousness, but the younger woman smiled kindly at him.

“Your brother was right; you do look awfully tired,” she said. “We have a room that’s just been cleaned—follow me.”

“I realize we’ve been rather demanding... Sorry,” he apologized.

“It’s okay. I’ll show you to your room. It’s just at the end of the hallway on the third floor.”

“Thank you.”

I bowed my head to the woman at the counter, who seemed to be the older sister of the girl who was bringing Prince Wald upstairs now.

“It’s fine,” the older sister said to me. “You’re worried about a lot of things, aren’t you? I could tell, especially from how you even dressed your sister up in men’s clothing.”

“Ah... Yes.”

Hold on. Huh?

I’d meant to pass the lovely young prince off as being a man as pretty as a lovely girl, but it looked like he was being straight up taken for a young woman.

“Let me just warn you, though,” the proprietress began as she wrapped up her explanation of the inn. “Our rates are at a level that may be...noticeable to some. Our rates reflect the security we offer, and the bodyguards need their wages as well. Is that still okay with you?”

“How much will it be?”

“For three nights, with breakfast, dinner, and hot water and amenities for washing included...that’ll be 1,200 gold.”

“That’s fine. My sister’s safety is priceless.”

“You’re such a good brother,” the woman replied with a bright smile.

Since I was paying in advance for our whole stay, she gave me a one-hundred-gold discount.

Thank you very much!

Still, 1,100 gold? That would’ve been about 110,000 Japanese yen for three nights.

This inn was exorbitantly expensive, but security and safety were priceless. I’d just have to accept it, mm-hmm.

58. Let’s Raid the Adventurer’s Guild! But First, Reconnaissance

The inn room was large enough to fit two beds inside. It also had plenty of sunlight.

It was a good thing that there were two. I had been under the impression that, in this world, inns usually provided single beds that were meant to be shared, or that we might have to split beds with complete strangers. Maybe that still held true at cheaper inns.

Or maybe I had only had that preconception because in the game, inns had been designed as large rooms stuffed full with multiple beds.

The prince, who had been brought up to the room ahead of me, was standing next to the window and gazing out at the sights when I opened the door. The sight painted a perfect, enchanting picture.

It was patently obvious why the proprietress and her sister had mistaken Wald for a girl. His profile, which was aglow with shafts of sunlight filtering in through the window, made him look divine—like a painting of a saint.

Although the more I examined him, the more his masculine features stood out. Like his physique, for example. But looking at him initially, it was as though my brain had filtered out certain visual cues to make me see him as a pretty girl.

“Kariya,” Wald called out to me as I entered. He smiled at me, and the skin around his emerald green eyes crinkled with joy. “I’m glad we were able to secure lodgings without issue. So, what will be our plans for the rest of the day?”

“First, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Since I’d been the one to suggest washing off the dirt and grime of our travels, I went downstairs once more to ask for the complimentary hot water for washing that came with our room.

I was really blown away by the level of service, though maybe I should have expected as much from a top-class inn. Apparently, we could use as much hot water as we wanted outside of mealtime hours.

Our room didn’t have a tub for washing or a private bathroom. We had wanted an inn with those; that would’ve been another level of luxury over this one. But at that point, I doubted they would let barbarians set foot through the door, much less permit us to stay. So while I’d gotten hot water for us to wash up, first and foremost, doing so had also been part of my camouflage efforts.

I laid out a waterproof sheet on the floor and then materialized a massive washtub on it with a thump.

“Come, let’s wash up,” I said. “You were touching mermerls, so you’ve got to clean up right away. It’s important to wash your hands after touching wild animals!”

“Are you not bringing out the water heater?”

“The sound of running water would give us away, so this time, I’ll be your human shower. I’ll help you wash your hair, but you’ll have to take care of everything else.”

“Oh, all right.”

I filled the tub with hot water, then had the prince seat himself in it after he’d undressed.

I’m not gonna look at your junk, so you really don’t have to go out of your way to hide it... Though I guess it’s not really something to be showing to other people anyway.

Summoning water at just the right temperature from the palms of my hands, I touched his dyed-dark hair.

His shoulders curled inward as he squirmed about; maybe he was ticklish. Now and then, strange little gasps would escape from his lips, but I dutifully ignored them as I continued my duty as a human shower.

I’d done this for him before. Out in the brush, when he’d been too tired from the day’s journey to move, I had washed his hair for him. He really didn’t have to be so fidgety about it at this point.

The prince was now once more nice, clean, and glowing with warmth.

After he got dressed in the pajamas that had been laid out for us in the room, I dried his hair like always.

“There we go,” I said after a moment of acting as a human hair dryer as well. “Let’s just take it easy in bed until it’s time for dinner.”

“No, we have to go to the merchant’s guild as soon as possible—”

I cut him off. “Don’t be so hasty. I’ll scope things out first.”

He balked at my suggestion and began to protest, but I pushed him into bed.

I closed the open window and drew the curtains, covering the room in a dim gloom. Wald looked at me but didn’t say a word.

I smiled in an effort to assuage his anxiety. “You haven’t slept in a bed in a while,” I reminded him. “It’s fine, just rest for today. Sometimes it’s good to just take things slow and easy, you know?”

Wald still said nothing.

I patted him on the head, and despite the look on his face evincing that he’d wanted to say something, his eyelids were growing heavy. Eventually, they closed.

The quiet, measured breaths of slumber began almost immediately. It ate at me a little how tired he must have been.

The prince had probably slept in beds his entire life, and now, all of a sudden, he’d been thrust into the wilderness and had needed to camp outdoors. Adjusting to the change must’ve been terribly hard.

But incredibly, despite the difficulties he’d been facing, he hadn’t uttered a single word of complaint. Were all princes like that?

Shaking that distraction from my mind, I mentally prepared myself to move out. “All right, time for me to get going.”

Being a transmigrator, my base stats were pretty high from the get-go, so I didn’t really need to take a break. And compared to eking out a life in the harsh peaks of Gaelius, surviving in the plains had been easy—cozy, even.

Locking the door behind me as I left, I also erected a magical barrier.

I brought the key down to the reception area and asked them to hold on to it while my companion rested. With that, I left the inn.

I casually wandered aimlessly down the street before slipping into a narrow alleyway. After I made sure I was away from any prying eyes, I cast Jump.

While my belongings had been safely stored away in my Pocket Dimension when the mermerl herd had come thundering through, the prince’s belongings had been left at our campsite. I hadn’t been able to collect his things before we’d evacuated.

To be perfectly honest, I had been fine with simply abandoning the pack there, but the tools I had used to generate the protective barrier had also been left at the camp. We couldn’t afford to leave those unaccounted for in the wild. If anyone happened to catch sight of them, they’d easily be able to tell the tools had been crafted by a transmigrator.

Teleporting far from Helenna, I drank MP potions as I chain Jumped along the riverbank.

The yellow sea of fluff was nowhere to be seen by the time I arrived back at the camp.

While I found our belongings in one piece, I couldn’t say the same of the campground—it had been trampled and laid to waste. The mermerls must have rampaged through it when their little one had vanished.

But honestly, thank goodness the mermerls themselves were gone. The “big one” was their enemy, after all.

“Well,” I muttered to myself, “since I came all this way, I might as well get myself ready here.”

I gathered up the barrier tools and the prince’s pack. I stashed them away and then pulled a large basket from my interdimensional storage.

I stripped out of my clothing and swapped into a set of ordinary everyday wear. I also hid my long braided hair inside my jacket.

There, I’ve now changed my job from “Holy Shit, It’s a Mountain Barbarian!” to “Wow, Go Shave Your Beard, Filthy Commoner!”

Hmm...

Now that I thought about it, I considered shaving my beard so I could go undercover. I could even wear a fake beard, which would add some variety to my disguise.

However, the papers I had gotten at the town’s gates had described me as bearded. If I wanted to leave town later without much hassle, I was better off keeping it.

Oh, right. I should forge a second permit.

I’d probably be caught red-handed if anyone were to bother looking any deeper into my forgery, but should push come to shove, I could probably fake my way out of the issue in a pinch. So, I went ahead and made a permit for a villager version of me on the spot.

Now that I had finished my prep work, I returned to Helenna while drinking MP potions. Since Helenna was only a mid-sized town, it wasn’t protected by a Jump-blocking barrier like Tachyrinn Citadel had been.

Now, for my last Jump, I wanted to go back into the alleyway I’d used to exit out of town earlier. If witnesses were a concern, the trick to Jumping into places while keeping people none the wiser was to first warp to a high location. From there, you could check whether the coast was clear. After all, people didn’t really notice things that were above their line of sight.

Once I had infiltrated the town again, my first stop was the bank.

Of course there was a bank here. They had existed in the game too.

In Golden Dawn, bank accounts had been entirely free. There were no fees for withdrawals or deposits either.

But that was just how it’d been in the game. In this world that I’d been reincarnated into, banks charged handling fees for their services.

Speaking of bank accounts, Kariya of Gaelius did not have one. To open an account, a person needed to be well-connected enough to oblige someone to be their referee. They also needed the cold, hard cash to pay the bank fees. A peasant had access to neither.

Besides, I hadn’t known about banks in my childhood, and once I had found out about them, I’d already discovered that I was a transmigrator with a Pocket Dimension-sized wallet. I hadn’t ever felt the need to leave any money with the bank.

Not that I’d had the money to do so anyway. People in the boonies had principally traded in goods, so I hadn’t had much opportunity to handle cash.

Even though I had my massive, interdimensional wallet space, the amount of actual money I’d had to store was no more than a drop in a bucket. That is, until I’d been hired by House Tiuccia and had gone from rags to riches.

I’d made entirely too much money there.

They hadn’t had enough gold coins to pay what they owed me. And not simply “gold” as a currency system, but actual solid gold coins. One gold coin was valued at ten thousand “gold” currency. Anyway, because of that, I had allowed them to pay me in rare metals instead at the time.

However, now that I was back to being a peasant, I understood my situation with greater clarity.

A gold coin, which was equivalent in value to one million Japanese yen, was not an amount of money a simple peasant could be spending. That wasn’t a coin that could be used in a poor, desolate village. For starters, anyone I might’ve tried to trade with wouldn’t have enough hard cash to make change. But more importantly, having that much money would only cause bad rumors to spread.

So, I didn’t really keep much cash on me. To tell the truth, I had spent nearly all I’d had on the inn earlier. The proprietress of the inn had somewhat apologetically watched me count out every last coin I had to pay the bill in full.

I had no intention of asking Prince Wald to foot the bill for anything either. There was no point in asking anyway. We had escaped from Tachyrinn with nothing but the clothes on our backs—he didn’t have coin on him. He had regularly spent his days without carrying any money on his person.

He’d requested that I sell off the clothing and other accoutrements he’d given me for safekeeping to help pay for our journey. But even if I were to turn it all into scrap to sell, even a single button off his uniform was so valuable that we’d be easily tracked.

It’s fine, we don’t have to sell your clothes.

I have money—even if it’s in gold coins.

Basically, I needed to liquidate some coins in order for us to have usable money.

At the bank’s exchange counter, I asked them to give me enough gold for three coins. I was pretty sure that amount of money would be just below their radar and wouldn’t raise any suspicions, given the mercantile background I had invented for myself.

With that, I had safely secured thirty thousand gold, minus five percent for handling fees. That put my on-hand finances within the realm of spending money.

They’d asked me for my identification papers and had simply accepted them at a glance; my cover hadn’t been blown. Wow, were they ever lax.

Putting the money into my coin purse, I let out a quiet sigh.

This should last about half a year...hopefully. At least as long as we don’t keep staying at fancy inns.

Upon exiting the bank, I headed toward the adventurer’s guild.

While the guild hadn’t had a branch in Ruicerl, they did have a location here in Helenna.

I needed to get into the guild and ascertain the state of the war between Tiuccia and Khrasiel after our escape from Tachyrinn. I had to find out whether a bounty had been placed on Prince Wald’s head...and on my own.

59. Adventurer’s Guild: The Helenna Branch

“Disguise, check. Proficiency-spoofing gear, check. All righty, time to go in.”

I took a deep breath and then stepped into the Helenna branch of the adventurer’s guild.

In Golden Dawn, every player had been affiliated with this behemoth of an organization. Like in the vast majority of MMOs, the adventurer’s guild had been the new player tutorial for those just beginning their foray into the game. After a player completed the tutorial, the guild still continued to be present and supportive by doing things like issuing rank certifications and intermediating quests.

Having been reincarnated into a world that was almost a carbon copy of Golden Dawn, I was all but certain that the guild here also provided the same sort of helpful services. They were a place close to the hearts of players who had found themselves transmigrated here without rhyme or reason.

At this point, though, they could burn in hell for all I cared.

It’d be one thing if they had taken me in immediately after I’d discovered that I was a transmigrator, but I’d managed to live twenty-five whole years on my own without them. There was no “helpful service” they could offer me now. That was even putting aside the fact that, even after I had found out about their existence, I hadn’t had a single decent interaction with them.

At any rate, I would’ve rather steered clear of the guild and its members. But if they decided they had business with me, I’d have to make sure to keep well enough away to allow for a clean escape.

So, with that in mind, it was time for me to take a quiet little look-see around their guild hall...

The interior of the building was arranged exactly as it had been in the game. Directly ahead of the entrance hall was the reception area, where a number of counters were open for things like negotiating job requests or the buying and selling of materials that’d dropped from monsters.

Plastered all over the walls were an assortment of job requests, all sorted by rank. To accept a job, a prospective candidate would simply take one from the wall and bring it to the counter. The requests were all color-coordinated as well. Different types of requests, like monster slaying or material gathering, were posted on different colored paper. Urgent requests were red.

A tavern where adventurers could take a load off after finishing a job was attached to the entrance hall. It was also used for meetups, so people temporarily cooperating for a job could find their party members.

Upon entering the building, I immediately banked left and headed to the wall. If the layout of the guild was precisely as I remembered from my past life, that wall should have bounties posted. They would be on plain-colored sheets of paper with a black border around the edges.

I scoured the bounties for a moment.

“I don’t see anything...” I murmured to myself.

There were none posted for a Tiuccian prince, nor for any individuals who had a description that would match Wald. I had no idea whether transmigrators were out looking for us, but at least they didn’t seem to be mobilizing NPCs to join the search yet.

I continued looking over the requests posted on the wall, making every indication that I’d just so happened to check out the section with bounties first. There were requests for armed escorts as well as jobs to gather materials. There were also recruitment notices for mercenaries. Although fighting hadn’t broken out to the east of here yet, the situation was starting to seem a little dicey.

I also didn’t see any mercenary recruitments for Khrasiel, which was situated to the south of Helenna. Either the town was simply too far away, or the war there had already ended. I needed more information.

As I pored over the requests, I noticed something curious—there wasn’t a single job posted here for A-tier or higher adventurers. The tier cap for NPCs was B-tier.

Did they simply not have any jobs for A-tier or higher transmigrators here? Or were there no high-level transmigrators associated with Helenna’s branch in the first place?

I prayed it was the latter.

I was just a crafter with zero combat skills to speak of. I’d crafted new resurrection items for myself, and I had them equipped, but I highly doubted I could win against any combat specialist.

Although...I could probably beat the pants off any of the NPCs hanging around the guild right now.

So, with awfully insulting thoughts running unfiltered through my brain, I wandered around the guild hall. But unlike the light novel tropes that were popular in my past life, no one came to pick a fight with the newbie. In fact, not a single person among the guild staff or members acted out of the ordinary at all.

Since I’d put all this effort into sneaking into the guild undercover and all, I decided I wasn’t going to leave empty-handed. I strode over to the sales counter to hunt down some bargains.

In the game, materials and other curios that’d been purchased by the guild were occasionally sold at slashed prices. Sometimes they marked down things they had in surplus, or if there was only one left of something. You didn’t need to be a member of the guild to purchase these sale items either. The bargain bin was more like a daily revolving lineup of serendipitous stock. If the guild happened to be offering something you wanted, you were just lucky.

Sure enough, the clearance section I remembered from Golden Dawn existed in this world as well.

I figured other shops in town would probably carry hides sourced from ordinary animals, so I turned my attention to materials that could only be obtained from monsters.

They had leather fashioned from Giant Frog hides. Those hides had exceptional water resistance, so I thought they might be good for making a cloak or for reinforcing the tent I planned to make.

I flagged down the clerk at the purchase counter. “Give me fifteen...no, wait. Make that twenty of these. Thanks.”

“Just a moment, please. I’ll check our stock.” The clerk at the counter took the hide sample that had been laid out and disappeared into the back.

As I waited at the sales counter for the frog hides, a voice coming from near the entrance of the building caught my attention.

“I’m back! The last of the stagecoaches has left, so I’ve brought back all the reports for today.”

A young swordswoman in leather armor approached the reception counter a little way away from where I stood. She was calling out to a female clerk whom she seemed to be acquainted with.

“It’s so exhausting to have to stand around in the plaza with nothing to do! I want someone to do shifts with me. You know, so I can actually go use the restroom,” she complained loudly.

The clerk didn’t seem convinced. “Come on, you know the carriages depart at fixed times. Couldn’t you just go when you know there won’t be one for a while? This isn’t a job that needs two people.”

“I guess. I mean, all I’m doing is counting the passengers and writing down what they look like anyway...”

My eavesdropping was suddenly cut short as the clerk I was working with reappeared at the counter in front of me.

“Thank you for waiting, sir,” the clerk said. “I’m happy to inform you that we did, in fact, have twenty pieces of giant frog hide. Your total will be—”

“Oh, wait,” I interjected. “Could you add some blue frog hides as well? I’ll take two. It can all be bundled up together.”

“Just a moment,” the clerk replied, and they vanished back into the storeroom.

I kept my eyes trained on the retreating clerk as I listened intently to the conversation unfolding at the other counter.

The swordswoman had been loud when she first stepped into the guild, but her voice had lowered to a normal volume as she approached the counter and began chatting with the clerk there. The rowdy buzz from the adjacent tavern felt all the more irritatingly loud as it filled the hall, making it difficult to catch their whole conversation. There were a number of words I couldn’t catch.

“Isn’t this... But like, I thought it was a plan for the town... New carriage routes, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think so. The job came straight from headquarters... It’s an ongoing job, since there’s no deadline. They’ve sent it out to all branches with public carriage routes...”

“But...wasn’t it? They’re asking for reports on all carriage passengers... Just what are they looking into?”

They’re trying to figure out where the escaped Tiuccian prince is, I answered her in my mind. I bet they’re trying to collect as much information as they can about a fifteen-year-old youth, give or take a couple of years or so.

Making use of NPC adventurers across the land was honestly a great idea. They weren’t expensive to hire, and it would help them search the entirety of the Central Nations.

Still, I was ever grateful that the security here in Helenna’s branch office was so lax—so much so that people were openly discussing the details of their jobs. Now, I knew that stagecoaches weren’t an option for us.

The adventurer’s guild headquarters—or Khrasiel, to be precise—was searching for the missing prince. Since no one knew whether he still lived or had died, this was their current strategy. If they found out he was still alive, their search efforts were bound to intensify.

I needed Wald to learn to Jump as soon as possible. If he didn’t, then I had no idea how many years it would take us to get back to Tiuccia.

All right, I decided, I’m going to have to put him through hell with boot camp.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” the clerk said, returning once more. “Twenty sheafs of giant frog leather and two additional sheafs of blue frog. Your total will be...”

I paid the clerk at the sales counter. Then, with the frog leather and some priceless intel in tow, I left the adventurer’s guild.

60. From Siblings to Betrothed (*Vomits Blood*)

After exiting the guild with the bundle of frog leather in my arms, I ducked into an empty alley to deposit them into my Pocket Dimension. Once that was done, I stepped back out with an air of nonchalance as I continued my shopping.

Given that I was an Item Master, I could make whatever I wanted, provided I had the right raw materials. Even so, that didn’t mean I could get by without spending a bit of gold.

I could, for example, make clothing with the aid of that mysterious light that appeared whenever I started crafting something, but to do so required fabric, thread, and a needle.

The fabric and thread were things I could prepare myself if I really wanted to, although it was kind of a pain in the ass to do that manually. But I couldn’t do anything about the needle. I had a terrible affinity with metals. I was a non-metal crafter, after all.

So, to be perfectly honest, if I were to prioritize cost-effectiveness, it would be way more economical to simply buy the basic materials I’d be working with. Even if I wanted to make something out of silk, I wasn’t about to start growing mulberry bushes to raise silkworms.

I got into a rhythm of doing a little shopping, ducking into a deserted alley, and then returning to the main street.

Shop, alley, main street. Shop, alley, main street.

After doing two sets of this, I was worried I might start picking up some unwanted attention, so I cast Jump and teleported outside the town. In the safety of the vast, empty wilderness, I changed back into my mountain man getup and teleported back into Helenna.

I wasn’t planning on doing any more shopping, but I passed by a florist that happened to catch my eye—or, more precisely, the puffball flowers they were selling did.

The fluffy, white flowers were only about five millimeters big. However, when dried, they could be refined into an ingredient for a healing salve.

Puffballs were ordinary flowers that could be found growing just about anywhere. They were so common I didn’t think they’d be sold in shops, but I guessed they were used as accent flowers in bouquets, much like baby’s breath flowers in my old life.

I bought all of their stock without a second thought.

Since the seller was a florist rather than an apothecary, they wrapped the flowers up in brightly colored paper and tied the bundle off with a ribbon before handing it to me. It looked almost like a gift bouquet.

“Looks like I ended up with a present for the prince...” I hummed thoughtfully to myself.

Since the florist had arranged it so nicely, I decided to carry it back to the inn instead of inserting it into my storage like I had everything else.

Wald was still sleeping in bed when I got back to our inn room. He didn’t even notice I’d returned. But if he could sleep well, that was for the best.

As I wistfully wished he could have seen the bouquet, I removed the wrapping from the flowers. I then used Desiccate, a crafter’s ability for processing raw materials, to instantly dry them. I couldn’t afford to wait for Wald to wake up and see them; these white flowers retained their potency best if they were refined while still fresh.

Now, all that was left was to pluck all the petals mercilessly...

“Oh, right, I think these could be used for a calming effect to help get a good night’s rest...” I muttered to myself as I pulled one of the dried flowers from the bouquet. It was still on its stem. I placed it beside the sleeping prince’s pillow.

The prince looked picturesque with the flower next to him. It must’ve been the power of someone who, at a glance, appeared to be a pretty young woman.

Feeling emboldened by the sight, I went ahead and covered his bed with the dried puffballs.

Here lies Sleeping Beauty, atop his bed of flowers.

Feeling satisfied with my prank, I decided to let Wald sleep the entire day away.

Anyway, monsoon season was soon approaching, and that had been my reason for purchasing the giant frog hides. I could fashion hooded cloaks out of the water-resistant leather. I’d picked up the additional blue frog leather to use as an accent color on the hems. I hoped the cloaks would turn out nicely.

Since our stay at the inn included dinner, I went downstairs around mealtime and brought a tray of food back to our room that had servings for both of us. I transferred the food into my own bowls and stored them safely away in my storage while it was still warm. The prince was still sleeping, after all.

As I nibbled on a piece of jerky I’d made some time ago, I continued working on the cloaks by lamplight. Since the inn was in a relatively quiet spot in the area, the sounds of passersby gradually faded into silence as the night wore on.

Soon, all I could hear was the prince’s quiet breathing as he slept.

If he continued sleeping through the night and didn’t wake until the morning, he was probably going to be a little dehydrated.

I should probably make some fruit-infused water with a bit of sugar and salt for him.

When I had been unconscious after Wald had revived me with the elixir, he had apparently administered a potion for me to drink once a day. Considering the state of his own health at the time, he really should have saved the potions for himself, but since he’d only had a few on hand, he had used them on me and had staved off his own hunger with the oranges he’d managed to scrounge up.

He was an open, sincere man of integrity. I liked that about him.

“There we go, all done.”

I couldn’t use the mysterious crafting light to speed craft extra items without having crafted that kind of item once before.

Although I knew the recipe, frog leather cloaks were a pretty low-rank piece of gear, so I hadn’t bothered to either make or equip one in my old life. And in this life, frog monsters hadn’t even existed in the Gaelius Mountains in the first place.

With one cloak complete, I was able to fabricate the second in an instant with the magic crafting light. Then, I also made some fruit-infused water. I tossed all of this into my interdimensional storage.

After changing into my pajamas, I doused the lamp’s light, crawled into my own bed, and surrendered myself to sleep.

***

“...riya... Kariya...”

I awoke to the pleasant scent of flowers. Awakened by a hand that shook me gently, I slowly opened my eyes.

Damn, I really hit the hay. The prince woke up before I did.

White flowers clung to the youth’s dark hair, which was slightly bedraggled from sleep.

“Good morning, Your Highness. The beds in this inn are crazy awesome, aren’t they? I slept like a log.”

“Morning, big bro.” He laughed. “You must still be half asleep to call me that. But I do agree that the beds in this inn are ‘crazy awesome’—the fact that I’d been sleeping since yesterday afternoon proves as much.”

The lovely young lady—er, man—quietly chuckled. Remembering the water, I materialized it from storage.

“Oh, um... Yeah. Sorry, Wal. I forgot to get a pitcher of water. Here, drink this—I made it for you.”

“Thanks. By the way, Kariya, why was my bed covered in flowers? Was that a good luck charm or something?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said stiffly. I wasn’t about to tell him it’d been a prank. “You slept well, didn’t you?”

“Yes, very well. Thanks,” the prince said with another chuckle.

Wald then sat down on the edge of my bed—probably because his bed was still covered with flowers. He carefully cradled the cup of water with both of his hands and happily began to drink. I felt a little bad that I’d forgotten to set the water out for him before turning in; he was obviously parched.

He must’ve been hungry too, seeing as he hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.

“Could you go down to the ground floor once you’ve finished that and fetch breakfast for the both of us?” I asked.

He looked unsure. “I doubt I’d stand out or anything, but are you sure it’s okay for me to leave the room?”

“Yeah, as long as you stay inside the inn. I chose this place for its safety,” I said, reassuring him. “Oh, by the way—the staff seem to think you’re my little sister, rather than my brother. Go ahead and pretend that’s the case. While you’re down there, I’ll get changed and clean up the other bed.”

“All right. I’ll be right back then, big bro,” he said. His face was flushed with excitement as he rose from my bed.

Wald passed his empty cup to me and then left the room without even bothering to make his hair more presentable. He must’ve been thrilled to go on his very first errand—and be social to boot.

For my part, I crawled out of bed and had a realization as I got changed.

The prince had been able to create water with magic before, right? So if he was thirsty, he surely could have made his own water to drink... But I guess the fruit-infused water tasted nice. As long as he was happy with it, that was all that mattered.

After I finished getting dressed, I gave my bed a quick, simple tidy and then began to toss the dried flowers that’d been scattered about the prince’s bed into my storage.

A short while had passed when the prince finally returned to the room, carrying a basket with our breakfast. Sandwiches overflowing with filling sat neatly inside the basket along with some apples. He had brought a teapot containing warm milk tea as well.

But...something was off about Wald’s behavior. His cheeks were dusted faintly pink, and for some reason, his movements were a little less refined than normal. Instead, they were a little more awkward.

“Did another guest harass you while you were down there? Sorry, I should have gone instead,” I apologized.

“O-Oh no, no one did anything of the sort. It’s just... I’m sorry, Kariya. I think I may have worsened the misunderstanding with the innkeeper.”

Huh?

“At any rate,” he continued, not meeting my gaze, “let’s eat while the food’s still warm. The innkeeper told me the ham and omelet fillings for the sandwiches are fresh out of the oven.”

With that, we both seated ourselves at the table by the window.

The sandwiches were excellent, as expected of a top-class inn. There were three varieties—one with mouthwateringly melted cheese and seared ham, one filled with vegetables and bursting with egg, and one dessert sandwich with ample jam and creamy butter inside.

At the bottom of the basket were two covered bowls of mushroom soup, just enough for the both of us. Lastly, there were apples that were crisp, fresh, and entirely delightful.

Thank you, top-class inn.

I couldn’t wait for the day we’d have the opportunity to try the fancy dinner from last night that I’d stashed away in my Pocket Dimension.

Once we finished eating, it was my turn to go downstairs. Hooking the basket on my arm, I gathered up the food trays from last night’s dinner and brought all of them down.

The other guests appeared to be wrapping up their own breakfasts, and the innkeeper and her sister had already begun cleaning the dining hall.

“Thank you for breakfast,” I called out to them.

They both whipped around to look at me. For some reason, they seemed positively aglow. Ceasing their cleaning, they both rushed over to me.

“Goodness, you should have told us earlier!” said one.

“Well, I suppose that given the difference in your ages, it’d be best to pose as siblings while you’re traveling,” said the other.

“But don’t you think that’s a little sad for your wife? You’re on your honeymoon!”

I blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You chose our inn for your honeymoon, right?” the two sisters exclaimed in unison.

Prince Wald... Just what did you talk about with these women?

61. The Permissible and the Impermissible

The inn room was large enough to fit two beds and had plenty of sunlight. To the proprietress and her sister, we were a couple who were clearly out of their depth trying to stay at their high-class inn, even though I had told them at the start that we were both men.

Then, right after we’d been shown to our room, we had asked for hot water. Through our door, they’d been able to hear some awfully suspicious squealing and gasping. (That must’ve been when I’d helped Wald bathe. The two women had probably been concerned, given our uncertain origins, but I wished they hadn’t eavesdropped.)

Furthermore, although the sun had still been high in the sky, the “woman” had gone straight to sleep—only the man had stepped out from the room and left the inn. And then, he had come back with a bouquet of flowers in hand! (Okay, they got me there!)

Later on, I had brought dinner up to our room, but neither I nor my “wife” had shown any sign of leaving. And despite that, we had burned the midnight oil until quite late. (Because I had been making the cloaks—I’d been working hard at sewing.)

And then, in the morning, only the “woman” had come down to fetch breakfast—and she had done so with little white flowers adorning her hair. When the proprietress had asked about it, the woman had shyly explained that the man had decorated her bed with them. (Did you really have to tell them that, dear prince?!)

And, of course, when the proprietress and her sister had examined our faces, they could tell that the two of us didn’t have similar features at all. Our skin colors were different as well. They had asked the woman whether we were truly related by blood, and that had been when the woman had explained that we weren’t—but we were still family.

Well, yeah...

Wald and I had agreed beforehand to be forthwith about the fact that we weren’t blood-related if anyone were to comment on the fact that we didn’t look like siblings. Our intention had been to pose as stepbrothers. While we didn’t share blood, we were still family. I’d figured we could push ahead with that story.

However, I never would have guessed that anyone would interpret “family” as us being husband and wife.

Having escaped from the innkeeper and her sister, I relayed the situation to Wald back in the confines of our room. After I finished explaining the current misunderstanding plaguing us, the lovely young man rubbed at his silky smooth cheeks, which had yet to show any hint of hair.

“Hmm... Would it be better if I simply wore women’s clothing while we traveled and we pretended to be married?” Wald asked.

“You’re fifteen, if I recall,” I remarked.

“Ah... Actually, I turned sixteen just a short while ago.”

“Oh, really? Happy belated birthday.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Considering how hectic things were at Tachyrinn in those final days, I hadn’t expected to hear any well-wishes.”

Oh... Yeah. If we’d been in the midst of battle—so much so that we hadn’t been able to spare a moment for celebration—then it must’ve been just around the time we had lost Croway Plains...

“Anyway—and I apologize for shooting down your idea—but I don’t think it’ll be possible for you to continue disguising yourself as a woman,” I said. “You’ll only be growing more masculine as the days go by. Since you have a pretty face, you might be able to fool people you interact with, but that’ll only be for now. Your frame’ll get bigger, more burly, and solid. It won’t be long until you can’t fool people any longer.”

Besides, I was planning on building his physique up more anyway.

“People have always commented on how my sister and I look identical... Do you really think I’ll grow more manly?” he asked me.

“You already have been,” I said. “Whenever you stood alongside Princess Catharine while she’d been dressed up in disguise as you, you had to hide the way you bent your knees beneath your dress to appear to be the same height as her, right? I could tell you were actually pretty tall from the way you ordinarily walked.”

“You’ve...really been observing me quite carefully, haven’t you?”

“Well, I was your bodyguard. As far as other people went, it would’ve been improper for them to stare at the princess, so they would never catch on. But I’m guessing that in just one more year, you won’t be able to swap places like that anymore. At any rate, I’d say that if someone didn’t have any preconceived notions about you and your looks, they’d already consider you to be manly.”

“O-Oh! I see.”

The prince looked incredibly happy at my firm assertion.

Hmm... I wonder if it’d be fair to assume that Prince Wald hadn’t been cross-dressing out of personal interest? He had looked so good in his dresses that I thought maybe he was doing it because he wanted to.

But still, he looked so lovely. And all the more so right now, with the way the white flowers still lay scattered in his long, flowing dark hair.

I beckoned him over to the bed with a few quick waves of my hand, and after seating him on its edge, I manifested a brush to comb his hair.

“I’m glad you’re braiding my hair for me, Kariya, but I’ve gotten quite good at doing it myself, you know?”

I thought for a moment. “Hmm... I guess it’s a hobby of mine? Since we have the opportunity to put our feet up while we’re in town, I was thinking of taking the time to come up with some creative ways to braid our hair. It’s kinda nice to brush hair when it’s long.”

“I think so as well!” Wald exclaimed. “So could I braid yours myself tomorrow morning?”

“Sure, why not?” I acquiesced. “Since you say you’ve gotten good at it, I’d be happy to see how sharp your skills have gotten.”

As I picked out the little white flowers that had gotten entangled in his hair, I tried weaving his hair into a cute style that would let him pass as either a young man or a woman.

Once I was done, I conjured up some highlander-styled attire for him to change into. Then, to top off his disguise, I draped the cloak over his shoulders and tugged the hood over his head.

“There, your camouflage is complete. We’ll head out to the merchant’s guild to send your letter and do some shopping. Since we’re leaving Helenna the day after tomorrow, let’s get our ducks in a row before we continue heading east.”

The prince nodded. We left the room, making sure to lock the door behind us.

Oh, right, I should probably do laundry.

Up till now, I’d been getting by with a combination of my washing and drying abilities, but now that we were staying at an inn, I’d need to make a show of washing our dirty clothes. Otherwise, we might seem suspicious.

I could also leave our laundry with the staff and ask them to do it...but then they’d know that neither our underwear nor our sheets were soiled. That would come off odd for newlyweds.

No two ways about it, I guess. I’ll do the laundry myself tomorrow morning.

But wow, I’m surprised at myself for managing to stay calm after being mistaken for newlyweds with the prince. Well, there was no harm in it, I guess. The prince didn’t seem particularly bothered by it either.

The innkeeper was positively beaming at us on our way out. I flashed her as good a smile as I could muster as I gave her our room key for safekeeping.

“Have a lovely day, dears,” she called to us as we left the inn.

***

I had already scouted out the location of the merchant’s guild in Helenna.

There were several ways to mail a letter in this world. One method was to ask someone who was heading to the letter’s destination to deliver it for you. Another was to hire a courier specifically to get it where it needed to go. Alternatively, you could use the delivery system devised by the adventurer’s guild or the merchant’s guild’s mail forwarding teleportation system.

The cheapest but most unreliable method was to simply ask someone to deliver it, and the most expensive—but commensurately reliable—method was to make use of the mail teleportation service offered by the merchant’s guild.

The merchant’s guild’s service was exceptionally fast and was the most accurate by far. It ran on an entirely different system from teleportation portals. I’m guessing that, in Golden Dawn, it was probably constructed discretely due to whatever background issues there had been with the game’s programming. That system had somehow been retained in this world.

For the merchant’s guild, this mail system was just another business opportunity. And if we made use of their services, the adventurer’s guild wouldn’t be able to interfere with the mail, so our secrecy would be kept.

The only issue was the price. While I couldn’t speak for merchants who were members of that guild, the cost to use their mail service was exorbitantly high for private consumers.

“Your total comes to 22,900 gold,” said the clerk.

As long as someone could pay the price, the merchant’s guild would do business with anyone—even with their own enemies.

We had been led to a private room where a clerk confirmed the destinations of the three letters the prince intended to send. The letters were also weighed.

The final quoted price sent a shiver down my spine. That was about 2.3 million yen!

As expected of expedited service. That’s expensive as hell.

The three letters had each been addressed to different recipients—of course the price would be jacked way up!

For what it was worth, assuming the rates here were unchanged from Golden Dawn, sending these same letters through the adventurer’s guild would’ve cost only one-tenth what the merchant’s guild was asking.

But the prince simply nodded in acceptance and pulled a small pouch out from his pocket.

That was when I remembered something important—he didn’t have a single coin on him.

Anything he had that might’ve been worth something was currently sitting in my storage. When we had teleported away, he’d had nothing of value save for the clothes on his back.

I had been standing just behind Wald as he was the one seated across from the clerk, but now, I leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“Uh, Al? Just how were you planning on paying?”

He gave me a silent, sidelong glance before answering. “My bracelet...was inlaid with several gems that might be removed in an emergency. They’re exceptionally valuable, each on the level of a national treasure. Even though my position is compromised at the bargaining table, surely they would fetch a very good price.”

I could only stare at him in silence.

Are you joking?! Those gems are national treasures that’ve been passed down through the generations, aren’t they?! Don’t you give me that forlorn smile when you’ve steeled yourself to part with them, kid!

I put a hand on Wald’s arm to stop him and then pulled out three solid gold coins. Then, leaning past him, I placed them on the table.

The clerk nodded. “Just a moment, please. I will draw up the contract and fetch your change in another room.”

Once the man had left, Wald twisted around and looked up at me from his seat. “Kariya!” he hissed. “This is my own problem. It’s only proper that I should pay for it myself!”

I gave him a bit of a lecture. “It is not your problem, it’s our problem. If you sold those gems off here, you’d never be able to buy them back. There’s no reason to go that far just to solve a problem on your own. You should discuss things with me. Learn to ask me for help, even if only for the duration of our journey.”

He didn’t say anything in response. Defeated, he hung his head, which was still covered by his hood despite the fact that we were indoors.

I gave him a light pat on the head. “I’ll fix up your bracelet and get those gems back into their proper places later.”

The clerk stepped back into the room and spoke to us again. “My apologies for the wait.” He was carrying a tray with the contract and some coins.

I returned to my place behind the prince, but my heart was pounding from the aftershock of running my big mouth.

Just half a year ago, I was a simple farmer with less than a thousand gold to my name. Now, I was moneyed enough to be carrying around three gold coins—each worth ten thousand gold—like it was nothing.

It was true: no matter the place or era, war always turned a profit.

Feel free to ask me for anything you need, princeling. I’ll put it on your tab till you become king.

62. Time for New Plans

With the letters now safely in the hands of the merchant’s guild, we left.

I thought that sending three letters at the same time might hint at their final destination, but the prince assured me that they would all be forwarded through other routes. Not only that, but the actual missive could not be deciphered without the ciphers contained in the other two letters.

I couldn’t say I really understood his explanation, but at least I was convinced it’d be fine.

With that errand squared away, it was time to do some shopping.

The reason I had paid for us to stay three nights in Helenna was not only to give ourselves a break from the hard traveling, but mainly to ensure we had enough time to get our preparations in order.

For starters, the prince needed more clothing, and I had already used up all the fabric I had on hand. Armor magically resized itself to suit its wearer, so anyone could equip it. But that wasn’t the case for regular old clothes.

I thought I might be able to share the clothes I had with him, but when he tried some on, they still hung a touch too loose on his body. And besides, my clothes were all pretty heavily worn out. I figured I could use a wardrobe change as well.

But man, I ain’t gonna go buy some premade, pre-owned clothes off a store rack—I’m a craftsman, after all! Why should I wear something made by someone else when I can tailor my own clothes?!

Plus, if I made the clothing myself, I could make improvements. To be perfectly honest, making crazy upgrades was practically the whole point of doing it myself!

So, we went shopping for textiles. He and I both chose patterns we liked, and we purchased several different types too.

Then, after buying a ton of various and sundry other goods, we stopped to enjoy lunch at a restaurant situated on the second floor of a building. We had an excellent view of the town plaza from up there.

Given that the restaurant and its seating area were designed to appeal to sightseeing visitors, they even let us two highlanders in. We were, at a glance, nothing more than travelers.

Knowing that highlanders would ordinarily be seated in a dark corner inside the restaurant proper, I slipped the host a few loose coins to earn us our terrace table. From there, the plaza fountain and its immediate surroundings were clearly visible.

After a moment of searching, I spied the loading bay for public stagecoaches. “There it is, the stagecoach stop.”

I pointed past the fountain with my fork.

The prince, who had been delicately cutting a piece of roasted meat, turned to look in the direction I’d pointed.

“See that adventurer in leather armor? The one sitting on a barrel a little way away? She’s been drawing sketches of all the people waiting for carriages. I’m certain she was put up to it by the guild headquarters.”

“I suppose that means they’re trying to discover if I’ve ridden one or where I might be headed,” said Wald thoughtfully.

I nodded. “They’re probably searching all the towns with established branches. I’m sure that, by having their staff report back in full force, they’re hoping someone will spot a youth who looks like you. At that point, they’ll probably mobilize.”

“Then, Khrasiel would send their transmigrators ahead to the stagecoach’s destination and lay in wait for my arrival...”

I shared the information I had managed to suss out at the adventurer’s guild yesterday with the prince. When he heard it, his expression darkened.

“We couldn’t purchase our own carriage or horses, could we?”

“Maybe, depending on the situation. But in an emergency, we’d have to Jump,” I said.

At that point, any horses we owned would have to be abandoned. There wasn’t any way we could get around that, and the thought made me feel terrible for the horses. It’d be one thing if someone happened to find the horses, but it was entirely possible they’d end up being eaten by monsters instead.

I explained all this to Wald, and he frowned as he put a forkful of meat into his mouth. He must’ve been torn between feeling sorry for the horses and wanting to return home as soon as possible.

“Well,” I began, thinking of how to allay his concerns, “horses are expensive anyway. If we buy them several times, the guild could easily track us through our purchases, so let’s keep that idea for when we really need it. For now, we’ll stick with traveling on foot and with Jump.”

I paused, noticing that a mercantile family was sitting down at an open table nearby. “Let’s stop talking about this. There are people around now,” I said in a low voice.

The family was dressed in clothes that looked suitable for long-distance travel. The children were happily watching the water fountain in the plaza, but the two parents were speaking tersely to each other.

“What will we do? We can’t go east anymore.”

“I knew war would break out eventually, but I still can’t believe it really did...”

The country they were discussing was one that I had seen mentioned in the adventurer’s guild—the guild had posted requests for mercenaries to go there.

This traveling family had no choice but to change their itinerary. We eavesdropped on the couple as they lamented the state of affairs.

The prince whispered to me. “Big bro, would you mind if I made some notes on your map?”

“I only have one map, but you could copy the map onto another piece of paper. Even a thin sheet of paper over the top of the map would do, actually.”

“Thanks. If you have paper thin enough and some colored pencils, that’s good enough for me. Let’s head back to the inn once we finish eating.”

I nodded in agreement to his proposal.

Come to think of it, I’d been under the impression that this was his first time seeing everyday city streets, but he had apparently been exposed to city life plenty of times before. Under the pretext of learning about the greater world, he had secretly snuck out to wander the streets of Altiuccia and other provincial capitals. He hadn’t told me who exactly had spirited him from the castle, but he mentioned visiting a town I recognized as being in the Cautley demesne.

As he reminisced about his travels with his old swordsmaster, sounding both bitterly nostalgic and heartrendingly sorrowful, I recalled who exactly had taught him to fight. Whisking the prince out on an adventure sounded just like him.

***

We returned to the inn where the beaming proprietress was waiting for us. After fetching our key from her, we went up to our room.

A pretty potted flower had been left by our windowsill. This seemed to be something the inn did for newlyweds on their honeymoons.

That’s awfully thoughtful of them. No wonder this inn is so expensive.

It really was a nice inn. So I didn’t think anyone would blame me for agonizing over my situation.

I mean, my “partner” here was another guy. If he’d been a cute girl instead of a man, and maybe if he’d been less of a prince and more of a peasant, I might’ve seriously considered proposing to him.

Prince Wald was honestly incredibly precious. He was commendable in anything he did, and he poured the utmost effort into every endeavor.

Well... In this world, no one seemed to bat an eyelash about same-sex relationships. And—at least when it came to Wald—I was starting to feel like maybe gender didn’t matter to me so much.

But of course, His Highness the Prince was off-limits.

Our stations in life were just too different. He’d also straight up said that sex was completely forbidden.

While I was entertaining my idiot brain, the prince had unfolded the map he’d borrowed from me and had spread it atop the table. He placed a sheet of thin paper over it and began to write. The look on his face was terse.

“Kariya, come look at this,” he called to me after a moment of writing, so I approached the table.

Wald had drawn in the borders between nations and added their names. He’d also made note of the names of provincial cities.

Helenna, our current location, was marked in the bottom right corner of the 02:03 cell.

“Your map is quite accurate in terms of topography, but I estimate the political information is about nine hundred years out of date,” he explained. “There are also some differences between your knowledge as a transmigrator and the actual history of this world, so I took the liberty of adding information that reflects the current state of affairs in the Central Nations.”

As I looked over his new notes, I noticed that the name of the Yuliana Empire, which had been located just about dead center on the map, had been erased. In place of that lost empire, lines demarcating several small countries in its southern half had been drawn—including Khrasiel and the northern parts of the Croway Plains.

The northern part of Yuliana was now outlined in black and labeled “Land of the Dead.”

“What’s this place here?” I asked, gesturing to it.

“The area around the former capital of Yuliana isn’t a place the living can simply enter. It was the location of the final battle between the Yuliana Empire and the coalition of countries rebelling against it. Now, the ‘Land of the Dead’ is all that’s left,” Wald explained. Lowering his voice, he muttered, “That land has been cursed.”

That must’ve been the culmination of the fifty-year war against transmigrators that Sakita—who was a transmigrator of Khrasiel himself—had mentioned.

Now that I thought about it, in Golden Dawn, there had been an area near the edgelands where the undead roamed. Maybe they’d recreated it here with Yuliana. Doing so would’ve been the work of the depraved. It had been a completely foul, tasteless event area in the game. Had their enemy here been equally as depraved, necessitating such tactics?

I’d personally never gone there myself in Golden Dawn. It had been an area recommended for SS-tier or higher players. A fallen god could be found there, and according to an article I’d read on a strategy site, it was one of the locations players would traverse during the questline to attain Godslayer status.

But I digress.

“The countries the couple were discussing are this one and this one here,” Wald said, pointing at two locations on the map. “Tiuccia must also be aware that war will be breaking out there soon—we’d been monitoring the situation in the Northern Bloc.”

Using a red colored pencil, he circled two countries—the country on the eastern border of the one Helenna was in and the country on that one’s eastern border. Then, he drew a line through both of them.

“If war is on the horizon between the country we’re in right now and these two others, we’re better off not going through them. The two royal families are deeply connected, so any fighting here could easily spread farther east.”

More red lines appeared on the map as he crossed things out.

I mulled over our options. “If that’s the case, we’d have to choose between cutting through a war zone during the height of combat or taking a massive detour to the south.”

Wald interrupted me there. “Oh, by the way, could you show me which places you think we’d best avoid? Areas you think would be difficult or even impossible to ferry me through. You can mark them off with another color.”

Nodding, I picked up two pencils—one blue and the other green.

I marked locations I considered downright unfeasible in blue. The places I marked in green were those I thought might somehow be manageable, but I’d still rather avoid them if possible.

“Ah, you’ve marked the entire Gaelius mountain belt green,” Wald quietly remarked after watching me work for a moment.

“I was born and raised there, after all. We’d probably be fine crossing the region, but only outside of winter.”

I explained that, given that my physical stats were S-tier, I’d be able to handle the biting cold. However, the prince would almost certainly freeze to death in the winter.

He nodded, the edges of his lips downturned in a grimace.

As we continued marking the map, we found that the viable routes open to us were limited.

If we were to avoid the impending war, we would first need to head south before curving around northeast. But that would mean passing through the area outlined in black—the former Yuliana Empire—which would prove to be a massive obstacle.

Next to it was the Terrestrial Sea, which was the largest lake in the Central Nations. Wyverns sheltered there during the winter. And adjacent to the Terrestrial Sea was the Grand Weald, the home of the elves.

These three areas, outlined in black and blue, formed an impenetrable wall.

If we tried to pass through that barrier, we’d escape the Northern Bloc and their sphere of influence, but the prince would probably die before we could even make any headway. The Grand Weald was a massive forest, and a barrier had been erected around its entirety. Setting a single foot on their lands would be impossible.

But we had to find some way of escaping the Northern Bloc, no matter what. I was going to see Prince Wald safely returned to his homeland. And when the time came, if Tiuccia were still embroiled in war with Khrasiel, I’d settle our score.

63. Farewell, Helenna

Our remaining two nights here passed in the blink of an eye with a whirlwind of rushed energy, but they were altogether peaceful.

The morning after our outing to the merchant’s guild, I holed up in the inn room to single-mindedly prepare for our journey onward.

I crafted several clothing sets for us, including other variations on highlander wear, townsfolk attire, peasant garb, and lighter garments for the summer. I even made underwear.

Deciding it would be best to give the prince some items of value, I fitted some gold and silver coins behind his belt and into the folds of his boots.

After all, what if we got separated, or if I were to die? I had to consider those scenarios as well. I’d previously thought that if I were knocking on death’s door, he’d probably already have passed by then, but it was important to plan for the worst.

While I was deep in my work, I created some fantastic multipurpose bangles for the prince to wear.

I’d fashioned a bangle for his right arm with some particularly designed grooves that items could be pressed into. Converting revival potions and light orbs into flat disks, I slotted them into those open grooves—they sat there, looking like nothing more than decorative colored gemstones.

Even though I was tempted, I had to stop myself from carving a pattern into the wooden base of the bangle. If I had, the bangle would’ve become an artisanal piece of workmanship.

Then, I crafted an S-rank anti-appraisal bangle for his other wrist. It was meant to be intentionally visible for anyone observing him.

While the prince wore the Royal Diadem on his upper arm, I realized that having it equipped made him impossible to appraise. That crown was seriously pulling a heckuva lot of weight. However, because of that, anyone trying to appraise him would receive a message informing them that he couldn’t be appraised—and that alone would make him suspicious.

The Royal Diadem was a Heraldry, and one that prevented appraisals—even SSS-rank ones.

Wald suggested we hide the crown in my Pocket Dimension, but it turned out that Heraldries couldn’t be placed into my storage space. So, the only option left to us was to give him an obvious stand-in to wear. That way, we might avoid drawing any attention to the crown itself.

The idea of an average person owning an S-rank accessory was ridiculous in itself, but considering the fact that we needed to fool transmigrators, we just had to roll with it. If, on the off chance, someone noticed it and decided to give us grief, we could wave them off by explaining the bangle was a family heirloom.

***

While I was knee-deep in my crafts, the prince had found himself with free hands and ample time. I asked him to spend some time washing our laundry in the inn’s inner courtyard.

It wasn’t like I could ask him to go shopping alone. If he were to, he was definitely going to get catcalled.

So, he’d dutifully gone to the courtyard with our dirty clothes, but he returned far earlier than I expected. The innkeeper had apparently helped him.

Since we were in the safe confines of an inn, I decided not to dry our laundry with magic and instead opened the window. After giving the prince a few tips—I wasn’t going to help him with this task—I had him hang a rope across our room to use as a clothesline and asked him to hang our wet clothing up to dry.

With that, the prince finished his very first laundry assignment without a fuss.

He came to me with a glowing smile and pestered me for another job, so this time, I asked him to do some embroidery on our overcoats. His smile changed to a grimace as he picked up the needle.

Embroidery was clearly not his forte. I probably should have expected that, given the way he’d struggled with it from his time masquerading as Princess Catharine.

I stared at him. “Since you’ll be wearing these clothes, isn’t it worth making them look a bit nicer?” I wondered aloud. His reaction confused me a bit.

The prince sighed and suggested a counter-proposal. “If I really must embroider something, I’d like to embroider your clothes. I’d really rather not do it for myself, but I suppose I could do it for you— Er, for someone else’s clothing. I can’t say my work will be impressive, but I’ll do my best.”

“I see... Well, thank you,” I replied.

The lovely young man’s bright smile returned instantly.

Damn, Prince Charming over here is honestly cute as a button. I’ll never let some lowly nobody take him away. As if I’d ever let someone take his hand in marriage in the first place. I guess he’s the one who’d take a bride, though.

At any rate, that was how we spent our time together, both hard at work in our inn room until the sun started its descent and the laundry finished drying.

When I went down to fetch our dinner, the proprietress greeted me with a radiant smile. She passed me a tray loaded with our dinner.

“Helenna isn’t a very large town,” she hummed with a twinkle in her eye. “A person could see all the sights there are to see here in a single day.”

Why did she...? Oh, right. I asked her for hot water early in the day for use with my work.

“Your wife is still just a young thing, so don’t work her too hard,” she said, still smiling.

“I won’t,” I replied stiffly.

Yeah, I’ll be careful. And in more ways than one.

***

We bid farewell to the inn that took care of us for three nights. Passing through the town’s gate, we left Helenna.

When I returned our visiting permit to the gatekeeper, I was handed a single wooden tag. The next time we visited Helenna, the toll would be reduced to ten gold if I showed this pass. I doubted we would ever return.

Now that we were getting back on the road, we needed to head north. We had come to Helenna through its north gate when we’d first entered the town, explaining that we had gone there on an errand from our mountain home. With that being the story, we naturally needed to head back in the direction of the mountains. With that in mind, we would travel north along the road for a while, and once we’d gained some distance from town, we would curve back around and go south.

We had decided to avoid entering the war zone on our travels.

“Wal, show me your hand—your non-dominant one. Er, your left.”

Wal, who was walking by my side, looked at me curiously as he raised his hand aloft.

I stepped to the side of the road and wrapped a delicate silver chain around his slender wrist. The chain wasn’t very long, and an argentine orb dangled from it. I adjusted the length of the chain so he could comfortably grasp the orb in his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“A light orb,” I replied. “But it’s empty right now.”

Slightly smaller in scale than a ping-pong ball, the orb was perfectly spherical and had been crafted from metal. Intricate patterns adorned its outer casing. A round window had been cut in the center of the casing, allowing the beholder a peek at the small, colorless crystal that had been embedded within it.

“This is a real light orb,” I told him. “The ones we made back at Tachyrinn were low-quality copies that only had one-tenth the capacity of the real thing. So, starting today, you’ll be training with this to expand your own MP capacity. While we travel, hold the orb in your hand and concentrate on filling it with MP.”

“So... I should fill this up every day?”

“Huh? Oh no, that’s not quite possible yet. We’ll have you keep an MP potion on your belt next to your waterskin. Here.” I gave him a small bottle to hook on his belt. “That MP potion will be your daily quota—drink it to refill your MP as you fill the orb. You’ll be done for the day once the bottle’s empty.”

Leaving eastward along the road that curved from the north, we made a beeline for the rolling hills that continued into the wilderness.

This had been the route we had taken to get here. I doubted anyone would trace us back this far, but I figured we ought to head back the same way we had come.

Prince Wald followed behind me, squeezing the light orb tightly in his hand.

“I suppose that...by continuously emptying my own MP over and over again, my maximum capacity for it will increase?”

“Yeah, you got it. The more MP you use, the more will become available for you to use in the future. The plan is to have you use up your MP while supplementing it with the potion, and as long as you don’t get potion sickness, you can repeat that cycle several times a day. I made that potion to be particularly concentrated, so be careful to drink it one sip at a time. It’s probably a little too much for you right now.”

All right, now we begin chapter two of boot camp!

“Oh!” All of a sudden, the prince turned to look at something that caught his eye.

Following his line of sight, I spotted a mermerl lamb munching on grass, all by itself, over in the sprawling grassland.

“Did it get separated from the herd?”

“Probably...” I murmured, only half listening.

Wald eyed my not-so-furtive movements. “Kariya, could you spare that lamb?”

Tempted by my greed and the golden fleece before me, I had drawn my bow and nocked an arrow. Wald’s plea made me lower my bow.

Well, it’s not like I’m hurting for resources or anything right now. I restocked plenty while we were in Helenna.

As Wald stopped to watch the mermerl lamb, the corners of his lips tugged up into a gentle smile. I joined him, thinking he must’ve really taken a shine to the creatures. When I did, the mermerl noticed our gazes.

The little golden lamb raised its head and quietly stared back at us.

“That mermerl doesn’t seem scared of humans,” Wald remarked.

Full of curiosity and drawn to the prince who had clearly enjoyed watching it from afar, the mermerl lamb trotted toward us. It was cute, but it was still a monster...but then again, a single mermerl was only an E-rank beast.

It’d be fine even if it comes closer. Should it attack, I could take care of it—

Suddenly, the little mermerl’s oblong eyes flew wide open.

It’s the little ooone!

“Huh?” Wald gasped.

“What?” I echoed.

A thunderous rumble echoed from far across the grassy hills.

A cloud of dust rose into the sky from the northwest, on the other side of the hill behind the baby mermerl. I had the distinct impression a sonorous refrain was returning the little lamb’s full-blast shout of Sympathy.

Without another word, I wrapped my arms around the prince and fled the scene. We did a series of Jumps toward the eastern front, right where war had broken out.

Had I gone south instead and back in the direction we’d come from, I was certain that Helenna would have met its end awash in a sea of gold.

64. Intermission III

Behind the throne, a sheet of white fabric had been hung up around the Right of Rule.

The audience room was under tight security, and soldiers had been posted at its doors. It had been cleared of all people, save for one.

Princess Catharine parted the white shroud to approach her kingdom’s Right of Rule, and she quietly gazed upon it for some time.

At the foot of the monolith, the furs of a snow wolf had been laid out.

Someone must’ve thoughtfully put that here for her, seeing as she visited nigh constantly. A cushion large enough for her to rest on, as well as a lap blanket, had also been placed there for her use.

Seating herself on the cushion, she scooted closer to the Right of Rule and raised her hand to it. Placing her fingertips against its engraved surface, she traced her twin brother’s name.

It shone a brilliant gold.

That was proof that somewhere out in the wide world, her brother still lived, and he yet retained the rights afforded his lineage.

“I knew you’d be here, Catharine.”

“Oh, Lucian...”

Her eldest sibling and stepbrother had joined her beneath the white shroud. Her hand lowered as he approached.

He looked at her silently for a moment before remarking, “A kingdom’s princess should not be seated on the floor. If you mean to stay here for a while, you should have a chair brought. You’ll catch a chill down there.”

“Regardless of how shielded I’d be from prying eyes, I cannot sit in a chair in a place level in height with the throne. Besides, staying here is my own selfish choice. But I thank you for your concern.” Catharine laughed softly as she rose from the fur pelts she had been sitting on. After steeling herself for a moment, she asked, “Has the letter been deciphered?”

“It has,” Lucian replied as he handed a sheet of paper to her.

She took it in hand and read through its contents.

A letter had arrived from her brother. Her dear younger twin, who had been missing from among the evacuees from Tachyrinn.

She had been searching desperately for him since he had stepped out of the teleportation portal of his own volition and vanished. Since then, his whereabouts had been unknown.

While she was able to confirm that he still lived by examining the Right of Rule, she and Lucian had been left in the dark regarding his location. If he had fallen into the clutches of their enemies, they had no way of knowing.

When the first letter had arrived, sent via a secret method known to the royal family, Catharine had cried. That told her that her twin brother was still safe and unharmed, and that he hadn’t been imprisoned. The letter’s arrival was proof that he still retained the freedom to send it.

Then, two other letters had come, each following a different route. With them, they could finally decode the letter’s cipher.

The missive began with an apology for his foolishness.

Catharine had heard from the mages who had safely managed to evacuate that he had been incensed by the sight of a crown kicked about by the enemy and had dashed out from the portal. The letter confirmed that story. After that, Kariya had saved him, and they had managed to escape from the citadel. Now, the two were endeavoring to return to Tiuccia.

“But of all places... I can hardly believe they ended up in lands under the control of the Northern Bloc,” muttered Lucian.

He had already read the letter.

“And not just anywhere,” he continued, “but to the remotest of hinterlands in the north. They needed all of the time between his disappearance and now to reach the town of Helenna so he might send us this letter at all.”

“Thank goodness Kariya was with him...”

Although the man was a crafter, Catharine couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief knowing that an S-tier transmigrator was at her brother’s side.

“Catharine,” Lucian said after a moment, looking for the right words, “in your eyes, is Kariya trustworthy?” Since his sister seemed to be reassured by the news that they were together, he had to ask.

The princess fixed her eyes on her brother with an unwavering gaze. “He most certainly is, Lucian. He is a goodly neighbor who brings blessings unto our world and our people.”

Just as it was broadly understood that people were divided into those who were benevolent and those who were wicked, there were also good and evil among those known as transmigrators.

The epithet “goodly neighbor” signified that a transmigrator was a person of great kindness and compassion. One who held profound goodwill in their hearts toward those they called NPCs. A goodly neighbor loved this world and would freely offer their wisdom to the people.

The SS-tier transmigrator whom the royal siblings had referred to as their master was one such goodly neighbor.

Though he’d had extraordinary might at his fingertips, their master-at-arms had never gotten drunk with power. Instead of abusing his abilities, he had protected the people around him—the people of Tiuccia—and had done his utmost best to guide them to a better tomorrow.

He had loved his country of Tiuccia, and even when other nations, including the Raghion Empire, had formally invited him to join them, he had refused to leave it behind.

The man had also cherished the young Catharine deeply. She could still remember the way his broad, weathered palm had felt when he’d gently stroked her hair.

“The only reason our army could fight on even ground at Croway Plains was because of Kariya’s abilities,” she began. “Had he not been with us, we never could have held our ground for so long. And despite the incredible amount of logistical support he offered us, he never demanded restitution. When we tried to pay him, he would only accept an amount equivalent to his services as calculated by his mercantile skills. His devotion to our cause was nothing but sheer altruism, through and through.”

“And you stand by what you say with absolute certainty?”

“Of course. He lent us his strength out of the bit of love he has for our country...as well as out of friendship. Just as our master-at-arms had been dear friends with our king grandfather, Kariya and Nadar Cautley were comrades. It was through Nadar that he supported Tiuccia so staunchly.”

Catharine closed her eyes and paused there.

“Now that Nadar’s gone, Kariya will never betray us. Khrasiel has made an enemy of him for what they did to Nadar.”

Catharine had seen with her own eyes how despair had stained Kariya’s ordinarily refined countenance. She was confident that Kariya would never ally himself with the adventurer’s guild, nor with Khrasiel. To him, Khrasiel had become his number one enemy.

For a moment, Lucian silently reflected on Catharine’s words. “So, was Kariya truly Nadar’s lover after all?”

Catharine frowned. “Please, brother, don’t even think of asking him that. It’ll only make him upset. Besides, we already determined that he’s not interested in other men during our tea party, haven’t we?”

“Ah, yes... We had discussed that back in Tachyrinn. In that case, Wald shouldn’t lose his lineage rights even with Kariya as his companion,” he remarked.

“Come now, Lucian! Do you really think Kariya would force Wald? That would never happen...I think.”

The princess, after a moment of deep thought, nodded to herself in affirmation. “Correct. Kariya would never,” she reasserted. “He’s a very nice young man. Regardless of how pretty Wald is, Kariya would never force someone, and especially not someone his junior. Besides...” She paused there, thinking of her brother, “Wald was raised to ascend the throne as a contingency, as you know. He would never do anything that would cause him to lose his lineage.”

But then, musing aloud, she said, “As for the other way around...”

“The other way around?” Lucian repeated as he stared at her.

Catharine stared back at him meaningfully but changed the subject. “At any rate, I’ve finished reading the letter. I’ll burn it now.”

After her stepbrother nodded back to her, Catharine began reciting an incantation. A flame flickered to life at the edge of the letter, then burned it away in a flash.

As she watched the paper crumble away, the princess spoke once more. “Should we announce that Wald still lives?”

Lucian, who was jointly serving as regent alongside Catharine, sighed at the question. “No, we’ll continue monitoring the situation as is for a while longer,” he replied. “We won’t publicize any real information of note—just that Wald is currently absent. By keeping everyone, meaning those both within and outside Tiuccia, guessing, we can afford Wald a little more time. If we reveal his status now, I’m afraid he’ll only be met with greater danger, given that he’s already being hunted.”

“All right,” Catharine nodded, then groaned. “I’ll just have to tolerate being popular a little while longer. The letters asking for my hand in marriage keep coming in, you see. It’s quaint, if you ask me, considering that not a single person was interested in me when my fiancé passed away six years ago. I suppose most find the prospect of being a queen’s prince consort far more appealing.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. But let me assure you that I’ve been no less popular—should any wish to tie the knot with you, they must first obtain the rights of our lineage, after all. There’s been quite a fuss surrounding my bed.”

“Ugh, please. I do hope you’ll keep a tight leash on your lovers, brother.”

As she trailed behind her stepbrother to leave the room, Princess Catharine turned around one last time.

Until her twin brother returned home, the shroud surrounding the Right of Rule would not be lifted. Beyond it, his name yet shone a brilliant gold.

65. The Border Guard

After we had narrowly escaped the (probable) mermerl ambush—though I hadn’t actually seen what’d happened—the prince and I had ended up pretty far east.

Or, to be more precise, we had traveled far northeast.

A quick look at the map told us that we were currently just north of the country that had declared war.

The wilderness stretched onward along the Northern Ridges, but following it wasn’t really an option for us—the monsters we’d encounter would be difficult to deal with. Their ranks would only get higher, and eventually, they’d be too high to deal with.

We needed to change course.

First, we would head southwest diagonally, and then we would continue going around in a counterclockwise fashion. This detour would allow us to swing around the war zone.

While we could Jump part of the way, we’d mostly be making this trek on foot.

We had a golden opportunity to train on low-rank beasts here. I decided to have Prince Wald at least become strong enough to defeat D-rank monsters on his own.

He fought using a mixture of magic and swordplay. Apparently, he wanted to specialize as a mage, rather than a mage knight, to use the Ivory Veil more effectively. However, I explained to him that mages needed good stamina as well.

Sitting on the pack the young man had shed as he entered combat, I casually shot down any encroaching monsters who were looking to join the fight.

There were an awful lot of frog and rabbit monsters around here.

I could use the frog hides to make tents, and the rabbit fur would be nice for lining the insides of our coats... And the meat of both wouldn’t go to waste either, of course.

“I’ve got you!” Wald shouted. “Fire Arrow!”

The prince flung a plume of fire magic toward his opponent. It smashed into a giant frog with enough force to throw the beast into a somersault. It rolled to a stop and didn’t move again.

I congratulated him. “Good job. Looks like you’ve really gotten the hang of things.”

“But I want to learn to use magic without incanting, like you can.”

“That comes with practice. If you cast your spells enough times, it’ll become second nature. But anyway, let’s carve up the...” I trailed off, distracted by a strong noise. “Huh?”

“Horses...” Wald said slowly. “And they’re coming this way.”

I turned to look toward the forest treeline to our south. There were three people on horseback approaching us. They must’ve noticed magic being cast here and were coming to see what the commotion was.

We’d thought we had been alone out in the wilderness here, but these people must’ve been hidden in the woods.

They didn’t appear to be bandits. Instead, they were clearly soldiers belonging to the border patrol.

But they couldn’t be regular soldiers in the border patrol’s employ, however. They were each wearing what appeared to be their own personal armor that didn’t match one another. However, all three wore matching shoulder plates that indicated their affiliation.

“They must be mercenaries,” I said. “This is going to be trouble.”

“Kariya, look. Who...?”

“I doubt they’re a part of the army here—they’re probably just hired hands to fill the border patrol, bought with coin. The whole lot of them are thugs,” I explained. “Anyway, pull your hood up. They’ll probably drag us back to their base. I’ll try to parley with them and work things out, but in the worst case, they’ll rob us blind and strip us bare.”

The prince quietly steeled himself. He nodded. “I see. All right.”

We couldn’t use Jump to escape at this point. These people had already seen us, and they were coming our way to take us away.

Since most people in this world believed that only transmigrators could use Jump, we’d be in deep shit if word got out that two travelers had escaped them by using it.

Wald approached me, and I took the light orb off his wrist. A typical NPC wouldn’t be carrying around something of such a high rank.

I didn’t bother hiding our wallets or other equipment, though. Even if they were stolen from us, I could replace them from what I had in my Pocket Dimension stash. As for the crown Wald wore on his arm, we had disguised it so it looked cheap. As long as that wasn’t stolen from him, everything would be fine.

“You two there! Come to spy on us, have you?!” one yelled.

“Of course not,” I insisted, telling them that we were hunters who had come down from the mountain.

That did us a ton of good—they arrested us.

To be fair, no typical “hunters from the mountain” would be using offensive magic to hunt. Magic tended to ruin prey, and the average person couldn’t even use offensive magic to begin with.

It was inevitable that we’d be arrested from the moment we’d gotten caught.

***

Apparently, the divide between the forest and the strip of wasteland had served as the country’s borders. A highway that’d been unmaintained and left in a practically untraversable state ran alongside the woods.

The guard station was hidden inside the forest itself. It had probably originally been constructed to be temporary. It looked less like it was built to handle people and more like a shelter from monsters.

But war had been declared, and hostilities had begun.

The mercenaries, hired to at least provide some coverage over the border, numbered twenty men in all. Not a single one of them looked to be an official military officer. This meant that we were far from the actual warfront. They’d been stationed here just in case.

However, that also meant they must have been bored out of their minds with nothing to do. Since they’d chanced upon some wayward “spies,” they’d decided to mess with us for sport.

Passing through a wall fashioned from logs sharpened to points at the tops, we were led into the guard station’s grounds. Once there, the prince and I were immediately pulled apart.

The pack that Wald had left on the ground during his battle with the giant frog had already been taken from us. They were ransacking it now. All of the weapons I kept on me had been taken as well.

The cowl of the prince’s cloak had been pulled down, exposing his pretty face for all to see. The mercenaries crowding around him began shouting and jeering crudely.

Of course, they didn’t pay much attention to me, the bearded mountain man.

“We got ourselves a woman!”

“Yeah, a spy woman!”

“Leave him alone!” I shouted. “He’s my brother, and we’re not spies! If you want money, you can take everything we have, but let him go!”

If any of them heard me, they didn’t show any indication of it, so I switched tactics. “My brother was the one who was casting magic earlier!”

That did the trick. The crowd of men closing in on the prince stopped in their tracks.

“Look, pal,” growled a man with a large frame—he looked to be the leader of the mercenaries. He approached me, his drawn sword casually slung over his shoulder. “Ain’t no one gonna believe a couple o’ nitwits out on a stroll near the border of a country we’re at war with. We say you’re a spy? You’re a spy.”

“You’ll know we’re not if you check. We have proof from Helenna. We’re not enemies. We were only out hunting some wild game.”

I pulled the wooden pass out of my jacket’s inner pocket and held it out.

The man glanced at it and snorted.

“Then no one knows you’ve come to our country.”

He slapped the pass out of my hand and stepped on it.

Then, he addressed the other mercenaries. “The next time those military dogs’ll come sniffing around here is in three days! Until then, let’s make sure we have a good report for ’em, eh? Interrogate the woman! And listen up, wench,” he sneered, turning his attention to Wald. “If you try to resist, we’ll kill your brother! If you do anything stupid, he’s dead meat!”

“Big bro!”

I leveled a glare at the mercenary leader. “So you say, but you mean to kill us both before the patrol arrives, huh? There’s nowhere to sell us off as slaves in these backwoods, after all,” I spat.

He grinned and then thrust the tip of his sword near my face. “Don’t even think about resisting, or I’ll kill you dead.”

Next, I heard someone snarl at the prince. “If you don’t want to see your brother gutted right in front of you, then strip. Right now.”

The men dragged Wald to the ground, savagely yanking his braid. They bent over around his small body, each fighting to be the first on him.

“Don’t move, Wal!” I shouted.

There was no space for me to wedge myself between Wald and his assailants with Jump this time. Instead, I wordlessly channeled a spell—Wind Slash—and blasted the swarming men away from him.

“Wha?!”

Then, I warped behind their leader with Jump—he was frozen with shock.

I whispered darkly into his ear. “Did you think I couldn’t use magic, even though you knew my brother could?”

The area around the prince was clear now that I’d scattered the men—my magic had left them collapsed on the ground. I cast Jump once more and reappeared over the prince, who was drenched with splattered blood from head to toe. I grabbed him by the arm and then Jumped several more times.

Ensuring we’d be out of the mercenary leader’s line of sight, I warped us to a stable at the far end of the compound.

I gently set the wide-eyed, speechless youth down on a pile of hay.

“Wait here,” I said to him, then lowered my voice grimly. “I’ll exterminate them.”

What followed was a one-sided massacre. With the stable to my back, I picked off the mercenaries as they frantically tried to flee.

A long time ago, I had done the exact same thing when I had cleared out that den of bandits.

Whether they tried fighting back or begging for their lives, I killed them all. I shot off arrows while occasionally sweeping through them with blades of wind, but I ultimately ensured my targets were dead. Some attempted to flee on horseback, but it was simple enough to shoot at their retreating backs—their bodies slid off their mounts.

“N-No, stop,” the mercenary leader wheezed as I set my gaze on him. “Spare me...”

“Have you ever once spared someone who begged for their life?”

Then I put an arrow between his eyes. Aside from me, not a single person was left standing.

***

Boy, had I fucked up.

I ruefully reflected on my mistake as I slid my bow back into storage.

I didn’t regret killing the mercenaries. Those who work evil get their just deserts.

Those bastards were using me as a shield to gang-rape the prince, then they would kill us both. Considering how efficient and organized they had been going about the deed, they must’ve done the same damn thing before.

Even if they had stripped the prince and had seen that he was a man, they wouldn’t have stopped. As long as their victim had a pretty face, those pigs would’ve gone all the way.

What I deeply regretted was how I’d failed to warn Wald of this danger beforehand. If he had known what was going to happen, he could have slaughtered them himself. And... Well, he still would’ve ended up covered in blood, I guess.

But at least he wouldn’t have been drenched in it from head to toe like he was now.

I’ll prepare a bath for him. But will he let me help wash him now? If he’s traumatized, that’d be too hard on him...

I turned back to look at the stable. A lone youth, soaked red with blood, was standing at its entrance. He had one hand on the door to support his weight, while his other was tightly balled into a fist at his chest. His bloody clothing was still disheveled.

Wald’s hair was a torn mess, and his long braid had been raggedly cut off. It must’ve gotten caught in my spell. As I looked at his now-short hair, remorse welled up in my chest.

“Prince Wald...” I tentatively called out.

“Please, Kariya, call me Wal. I told you before, didn’t I?” The corners of the prince’s lips weakly curled up. “The royal family takes responsibility for every battle waged in its name. You fought for me, so I accept the consequences. Thank you for saving me.”

Oh, I realized with a start. He really has committed himself to his role.

I’d fought to protect him, so he was shouldering the repercussions and blame as if he’d killed the mercenaries himself.

This was the resolve of a true leader.

He was well aware of the bearing he should hold as someone who could stand above all others. Our relationship was that of a client and contractor, not of an oath-sworn fealty. But at this moment, I felt it might not be so bad to pledge myself to the prince.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Wal,” I said.

I honestly felt that way from the bottom of my heart.

66. Evidence in Plain Sight

Corpses lay strewn all around the guard station.

But first things first—I manifested a washtub from my storage and placed it in the middle of the stable.

“Kariya? What’s the tub for?” asked Wald.

“We’ve gotta get the blood off you. It’s hard to wash up out there with all the bodies around, right? At least you can’t see them from in here,” I told him. “Don’t mind the horses. Just clean yourself up as quickly as you can.”

I pulled some fresh clothes out of my storage as well. “Here, change into these when you’re done.”

I filled the tub with warm water and affixed a shower head to it, then gave him a small wave as I made for the stable exit.

“While you clean yourself off, I’m going to check a few things.”

I hadn’t gotten splattered with any blood myself, so I didn’t need to wash myself off right now. At most, I only had to rinse my hand—the one I’d grabbed the blood-soaked youth with.

“Be sure to get it all off,” I called back, and with that, I left the stable.

Now then...

I headed in the direction of the felled mercenaries. I had to make sure each and every one of them was truly dead.

Among the pile of prone bodies that lay near the spot where they’d assaulted the prince, I found a dismembered arm, still clutching Wald’s torn braid. I couldn’t leave it there. I ground my heel into the wrist to force the fingers to open and retrieved the prince’s hair.

Ensuring that nothing else of the prince’s had been left at the site, I went and recovered the pillaged pack.

I didn’t bother getting any of the things they’d stolen out of it. I hadn’t kept anything valuable in the pack in the first place; they’d all been ordinary, easily replaceable things.

All right, looks like I’ve finished them all off.

The mercenaries had seen me use Jump. If any of them were still alive, they’d only invite trouble.

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, I stepped over the bodies I had left on the ground and entered a small house that had been built on the station premises. I had to make sure there wasn’t anyone hiding in there.

When I finished going through the building, I indiscriminately ransacked the rooms.

I came across a desk that looked like it might’ve been used by an official. Yanking out its drawers, I upturned them and dumped their contents on the floor. A map had been posted on a wall—I tore that down too.

I kicked more chairs and desks over, pushing them from their proper positions.

Nice. This place totally looks like it’s been ravaged by intruders!

With that done, I headed back to the stable to check on the prince.

He was squeaky clean now. He had apparently just finished getting changed. I waved him over to me and once more performed my job of being a human hair dryer.

“Thank you, Kariya.”

“We can’t leave your hair wet, after all... You’d catch a chill,” I remarked. I gazed at his hair and couldn’t help but comment on it. “It’s so short now.”

“Right, about that...” replied the prince.

He grasped a lock of his hair—it now hung just past his shoulders.

“I was thinking I might like it shorter, actually. What do you think? With short hair, I’m sure people won’t mistake me for female anymore,” he remarked. Then, thoughtfully, he said, “I suppose there are some merits to being seen as a woman, but I believe the demerits are greater by far. This situation was proof of that.”

While men in this world wore their hair in varying lengths, long and short, all women wore theirs long. It was rare to see a woman with short hair.

On top of that, if a wanted poster of the prince were being circulated by now, the artist would’ve drawn him with long hair. So, cutting it short was a fantastic idea, at least in terms of strengthening his disguise.

“Wait, but is it actually okay to cut it? Isn’t there a rule that royalty has to wear their hair long?” I asked.

“No. I don’t deny that the men in the royal family tend to have long hair, but it’s not as though there’s a rule forbidding us from cutting it short. Well-groomed hair is seen as a sign of wealth, but there are many who aren’t concerned with such status symbols.”

Oh, I see.

All of the members of Tiuccian royalty I’d had the pleasure of meeting had worn their hair long, so I’d gotten the impression that there’d been a rule of some sort.

“You have scissors, don’t you? Since my hair’s already been cut and needs to be cleaned up anyway, I’d like you to cut it shorter,” he said.

“All right, got it.”

I seated him in a chair I produced from my storage and had him don his cloak to avoid getting his clothes dirty. Then, I cut His Highness’s hair just the way he requested—layers throughout, and the back shortened to the nape of his neck.

His hair had a slight curl to it, so overall, it ended up looking like he had a loose perm. But like this, he looked like a completely new person.

He was no longer a lovely young lady. All I could see now was a handsome young man.

While his face was arguably pretty similar to that of his sister, the strong lines of his face and neck were clearly visible as his hair was no longer obscuring them. Now, at a glance, it was clear that he was male.

Regardless, he still retained his captivatingly good looks. I couldn’t help but stare silently at him in fascination.

The prince blushed and grasped a curl of hair between his fingers. “I’ve never had my hair cut so short before. It...doesn’t look strange on me, does it?”

“No way, you look amazing! I was worried I might do a bad job, but I’m glad it actually looks pretty good.”

“Oh, okay,” the youth said with a smile.

“Maybe I should cut my hair as well,” I mused. “Since I’m doing haircuts anyway.”

“Don’t even think about it,” came his terse reply.

I continued thinking aloud, his words not quite registering. “We’d match that way— Wait, what?” I finally realized what he’d said. “Why not?”

“I admit that being a pair has a certain appeal,” he began, “but I don’t want you to cut your hair. Long hair suits you quite nicely, so I’d rather you keep it as it is.”

I was a little taken aback by the staunch conviction in his voice, but I nodded. “Okay. I won’t change it.”

Wow, the prince’s power of persuasion is really something.

Maybe he was just used to seeing me with long hair. I guessed that it’d be no big deal to leave it this long, and honestly? It was invaluable in the winter anyway. I packed up the hairstyling kit and put it back into my Pocket Dimension along with the tub.

Wald and I stood side by side in the entrance of the stable, looking out across the station yard. The mercenaries’ corpses still lay scattered across the compound.

Wald glanced at me. “What should we do with them? Burn them?”

“No. The smoke would tip people off that something’s wrong here.” I knew the prince was asking about the bodies, but I shook my head. “We won’t even bury them. Just leave them there; if we leave the gates open, the monsters in the forest will eat the remains.”

Wald was worried about that. “But then there’d be evidence that they’ve been ravaged by beasts. And if wandering spirits happen upon the bodies, they might possess them.”

“That won’t be a problem for us, at least. We’re leaving before the sun goes down.” Scratching my head, I further clarified my train of thought. “In three days, a patrol of soldiers from the national guard will come by this station. They should be able to dispose of the corpses then. We can’t anyway—I’m not a priest, so I can’t purify the bodies to ward off ghosts. Our only option would be to burn them, but we can’t afford to make any smoke. Thankfully, there don’t seem to be any villages in the surrounding area. We can abandon the bodies.”

“Won’t it be a problem if they find out the people here were killed by someone?” the prince asked.

“This country is at war. That means there’s only one reasonable culprit, don’t you think?”

He nodded silently. “Right. I see now.”

“I also made a mess of the inside of the building to make it look like it’s been ransacked.”

Wald nodded at my explanation.

Since he seemed satisfied, I changed the subject. “I’m going to let the horses out of the stable now. When the patrol comes, they’ll think either that the enemy let them go or that they took the horses with them. If we leave them here, they’ll only be eaten by monsters. It’s better to release them.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

I turned around to look into the stable.

The horses were all huddled in the far corner. They must’ve been frightened by the constant noise outside that had only ended a short while ago. That and the pervasive smell of blood.

Speaking of smells, the stable had an utterly foul stench. The area near the entrance hadn’t been so bad, but the deeper in I went, the worse it got. I doubted the stable had been cleaned very well.

Moving the stall gates aside, I coaxed the horses out.

Did my ability to do this have something to do with how things had worked in Golden Dawn? Curiously, humans in the game could somehow understand what animals were trying to convey even though we couldn’t understand their “words.”

Animals, for their part, seemed to have a greater understanding of human speech than we did of theirs. If someone issued an order to a good-natured animal, they would obediently do as directed.

And that was how, for some reason, I could tell that the horses were trying to tell me to check the furthest corner of the stable. As they exited the structure, they kept turning back to look in that direction.

Under the dim light, a white form began to emerge from the darkness. There, in the gloom of the stable, stood a single mare. She was such a fine horse that I was surprised to see her in the stable of such an outlying station like this.

She was thin and a little dirty overall, but I had the impression that her coat’s original luster had been something else entirely. Her bearing was graceful, and she watched me with an unwavering gaze as I approached.

As I drew closer to her, I noticed her breathing was somewhat strange.

“Is she sick?” I wondered aloud.

The mare only gazed at me as she continued breathing softly.

If we were to set her free without any medical intervention, her body was likely to fail. I doubted she had the strength to flee if she were attacked by monsters.

The horse was calm and composed; when I had approached her, she hadn’t shown any signs of fear. She simply extended her head toward me gracefully. Despite her poor health, she wasn’t showing any signs of discomfort aside from her labored breathing.

The way her gaze had settled on me straight and unwaveringly, as if she could see right through me, somehow reminded me of Prince Wald.

I gave in. “Shit,” I groaned. “I’ll help you, but don’t think I’ll be taking care of you forever.”

I coaxed open the horse’s mouth and force-fed her several different potions. She looked startled for a moment, but then she began to stamp her feet on the spot as if she were testing out her improved condition.

Then, leaving the recovered horse to her own devices, I left the stable.

Wald had evidently gone to open the main gate of the wooden walls surrounding the base. I called out to the horses that were crowding around near the exit.

“Hey, you horses! I’ve got a gift for you all, so drink up and then get outta here!”

Manifesting a wooden rectangular bucket from my storage to use as a trough, I poured a dozen HP potions into it and watered the liquid down with magically conjured water. I added some status recovery potions to the mix as well. The other horses might also be sick.

The horses gathered around the trough in a flash and began guzzling down the water with incredible vigor. They must not have been given adequate water to drink.

Realizing that one trough wasn’t going to be enough, I brought out a second.

“You even have hay in your storage,” remarked Wald as he returned from the gate.

“Oh, yeah,” I said as I placed an armful of rustling plant fiber on the ground. “I kept it for making rope.”

Look at all this tasty hay, guys! It’s all sun-baked, so I bet it tastes amazing. Come ’round, all you horses! Eat up!

I spoke again, addressing Wald. “Once they’re done eating, we’ll lead them away from here. It’ll be safer to let them go in the wastelands where the monsters are less dangerous than to leave them to wander the woods.”

“Right,” said Wald. Then, after a moment, he added, “I’m glad you’re so good at taking care of others.”

I looked at him quizzically.

A small smile came to his lips. “Because you’re taking care of me too.”

That’s because I’m under contract... But I couldn’t bring myself to say something so tactless, especially since that wasn’t the only reason I had chosen to stay by his side.

I reached out and ruffled the prince’s hair. Now that it’d been cut short, it felt so soft and gentle.

67. Galloping Through the Wilderness

I was going to get Prince Wald back to Tiuccia no matter how long it took. But even though I knew it would take a while, I had never planned on buying any horses.

Riding horses would be far swifter than walking. Since teleportation portals and stagecoaches were both out of the cards for us, the idea of traveling on horseback was incredibly appealing. We could even purchase a carriage or wagon and hitch horses to it.

With a carriage, we could nap as we sped through the countryside like traveling merchants. Instead of having to rough it in the wilderness whenever we made camp, we’d have a roof over our heads at night.

I had to admit, there was a certain level of idyllic fantasy in all that. I could be the coachman for a horse-drawn wagon, comfortably seated in the driver’s box as I handled the reins of the two horses. The prince might peek out from the rear of the covered wagon and watch the scenery as it streamed by. That’d be nice.

We’d travel from village to village, selling wares from the back of our prairie schooner...

Oh, wait. Now that I think about it, I don’t actually have any mercantile skills learned.

But the idea of saddling up two horses with our stuff and galloping away was tempting too. Shrouded by heavy, wind-breaking cloaks with swords and shields fastened to our backs, we’d tear through the land like mercenaries or knights on a journey.

Yeah, that was something a simple farmer couldn’t consider ever doing. Your average peasant wouldn’t travel by horse. Horses were essentially beasts of burden, meant to pull carts loaded with crops or plow fields.

I had never learned the horseback riding skill back in Golden Dawn, and for the majority of my life in this world, I had lived as a peasant in a mountain range. I hadn’t had the opportunity to interact with horses—at least, not until I’d obtained the horseback riding skill through my training at Tachyrinn. That’d been when I had first learned to ride a horse.

But I still hadn’t actually wanted to travel by horse.

My reasoning was that my primary method of escaping in an emergency was through Jump. If things came down to the wire, I’d have to abandon the animal on the spot. And most situations that would necessitate the use of Jump were dangerous—many of them even fatal.

I’d never want to do that to another living creature. If I were to take an animal into my care, I wanted to be responsible for it until the very end. I just couldn’t see them as tools.

So that was why I had decided from the onset of our journey not to use horses as a means of travel. I had sworn I wouldn’t...in the beginning.

But for some reason, Kariya of Gaelius was now looking after one prince and eighteen horses.

Currently, Prince Wald was doing his best to magically fill a wooden trough I’d fetched from my storage with water. We had three such troughs lined up in a row, and the horses were eagerly drinking from them.

Not a single horse was still sporting the bedraggled coats they’d had just a short while ago. I had mixed an extravagant number of HP potions into the water, and even the horses that’d been the worst off had made dramatic recoveries. They were all the perfect picture of health.

After the prince and I had left the border guard station, we had planned on leaving the horses once we’d led them into the wilderness.

And we did. But they all came back to us.

It was only a matter of course for these horses—they had never been wild animals from the start. They had all been raised under man’s hand. There was no guarantee they’d survive on their own in the wild either, not when they were accustomed to humans ensuring that their needs had been met their whole lives.

The herd had trailed after the prince and me once we had set out from the guard station. Although they had understood we had granted them freedom, all they’d been able to do was huddle together helplessly as they followed behind us at a distance.

When I had seen lupine monsters dash out from forest brush to attack them, I had finally accepted my defeat. I’d hurled fireballs at the wolves to drive them away. The horses approached us after that.

The moment I had felt their happiness and gratitude resonating with me, I’d turned to look at Prince Wald.

He’d looked at me, then back at the horses. “Could you let them come with us, Kariya?” he’d asked me. “Abandoning them here in these wastelands would break my heart.”

The prince was such a sweet, pure angel!

“I’ll help take care of them,” he’d continued. “I know we can’t keep them forever, of course, but...could you at least keep an eye on them until we next reach a town where we might leave them with a horse trader?”

And with that, my boss permitted me to keep horses.

To be clear, however, all I did was protect them from monster attacks during the day. During the night, I would erect the camp’s barrier in a way that would keep the horses safe as well.

That, and I’d scrub them down one by one since they were all so dirty, feed them potions and dewormers, and check the condition of their horseshoes even though I was no good with metals... Wait, huh?

Well, basically, I was only doing what I could.

Now that they’d finished drinking some water, the horses started munching on grass underfoot. I always made sure to expand the range of the protective barrier to give them plenty of space to graze.

But the barrier itself only prevented invasion from external threats—it was easy enough to pass through it from the inside. I’d only had to tell the horses not to leave the barrier once, though; they’d stayed inside it since. Horses were such intelligent animals.

I looked at the horse that was approaching me—it was the white one. “Hm? Did you finish your water?” I asked as I continued setting up the barrier.

The white mare, who seemed to have been the leader of the horses, had gotten attached to me for some reason. Maybe she realized that, by feeding her those potions, I had saved her life. She bumped my shoulder as if looking for some tender, loving attention, so I stroked the bridge of her nose.

“You should give her a name already,” said the prince, rounding around the mare from behind.

I smiled awkwardly at the comment. “We’ll have to part with her eventually. If I give her a name, I’ll only get attached...”

“From how I see things, you’re already plenty attached.”

“Even more attached, Wal,” I said. “Things would only be worse if I started calling her by a nickname. That’s why I usually try to hold back. Nicknames should only be used with someone really special, if you ask me...”

The prince looked away. A slight blush dusted his cheeks.

Oh.

Shit, what have I done?

I’d been calling him by a nickname, rather than his actual name. I hadn’t been trying to make a pass at him or anything.

That hadn’t been my intention at all with the comment I’d just made, but maybe he’d taken it that way. Seriously, I really hadn’t been making passes at him! I was well aware that it’d be outrageous for a peasant like me to do that.

Sorry. I might’ve gotten a little too big for my britches...

But while I was dealing with my steady stream of internal, panic-induced sweat, His Royal Highness the Prince didn’t seem to take note. Then, without saying anything further, he went back to the main area of our campsite. I breathed a deep sigh as I watched him retreat.

As I stroked the white mare’s neck, I felt the tension leave my shoulders.

“Man... That was weirdly nerve-racking. Prince Wald is really nice—maybe I’ve been getting too used to it.”

He’d probably noticed, but I bet he was pretending he hadn’t out of kindness. Were Liese, the Head of Ladies here, I’m sure she would’ve given me the lecture of a lifetime.

To be honest, I admit I did feel something akin to affection for the prince filling my heart. I knew I had strong feelings for him, at least. And this was a world where same-sex relationships were commonplace.

I still didn’t plan on being physically intimate with him, but I clearly needed to give everything more thought.

“I haven’t given you a name, but it’s not because I don’t like you,” I said to the mare as I continued stroking her mane.

She gazed at me with her big, gentle eyes as if to say, “I know.”

***

Morning arrived.

Breakfast came and went, and we cleaned up the campsite so no trace of our stay remained.

Seeing that the prince and I had finished getting ready to set out, the white horse and one other approached us ahead of the rest of the herd. It was admittedly strange to be leading horses but not riding them, so we figured we might as well take advantage of our situation.

Until we reached the next town, our primary means of travel would be on horseback. I withdrew horse tack from my interdimensional storage—including saddles, of course—and tacked up the horses.

The white mare allowed me to ride her, but it seemed the other horses would be taking turns carrying the prince. The horse whose turn was first looked delighted.

You’re always so popular with animals, buddy.

We swapped our clothes for ones that made us look more nomadic. To protect our eyes from the wind, we wore goggles. I wasn’t too sure why they had existed in Golden Dawn, but now, they served well enough for hiding our faces too. Killing two birds with one stone and all that.

Having mounted our horses, we set off with a shake of the reins. The herd of horses surrounded me and the prince like a cavalcade, and we began to head southward at a trot.

We let the horses set our travel pace. I was only a beginner at horseback riding, after all. If we forced the horses to go fast, it’d only make our journey more dangerous. As long as they were heading in the right direction, I was more than happy to let the herd take the reins.

At the start of the day, the horses had carried us at a gentle trot. From there, they gradually increased their speed until they were galloping at full speed.

“Look over there, Kariya!” The prince, who was next to me, pointed at the grassland ahead of us. “What a lovely field of flowers!”

The field had been blanketed in a sea of purple.

“No, those aren’t flowers,” I said with a laugh. “Pull your collar up over your nose. We’re going in!”

I did so myself, and we covered our faces as the horses plunged straight through the field.

The meadow was filled with small, white flowers that I hadn’t been able to make out very well from a distance. The purple butterflies covering these flowers to sup at their nectar all took off at once, their scales scattering as they fled. The cloud of butterfly scales glittered gold in the sunlight.

The butterflies in our path continued to scatter into the sky as we thundered through the meadow, blanketed as it was by the delicate insects. The view was stunning.

“Breathtaking...” The prince’s voice trembled with emotion.

“I know, right?” I replied. Behind my goggles, the skin around my eyes crinkled as I smiled.

The sight was grand. Fantastical. If this were a scene in Golden Dawn, I’m sure I would’ve hit the screenshot button.

But as beautiful as these glittering scales were, they had paralytic properties, which made them dangerous to breathe. Unfortunately, any selfie I might’ve taken that included the meadow would’ve been ruined by the fact that I’d look real shady being dressed head to toe in protective gear.

However, despite how dangerous the scales were to human-sized creatures, they had no such effect on the horses. The horses were too large.

We soaked in the sight of countless butterflies flying off from this vast field of flowers...and paid for it later that night as we frantically cleaned the scales from our clothing.

68. Bayards

“...ya! Kariya!”

I was startled awake by the prince’s low, urgent hissing. A sweetness lingered in my mouth—he must have tipped a status recovery potion down my throat.

I was lying on a blanket in the middle of the campground. Wald was kneeling beside me—his expression softened slightly with relief once I had opened my eyes.

A thick fog blanketed our immediate surroundings. It was so dense that I couldn’t see anything past the prince.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. Everything was already like this when I woke up. And since I was able to wake but you weren’t, I think this fog must be causing your unusual slumber.”

Oh, right.

His words reminded me of the Royal Diadem resting on his upper arm—a royal Heraldry that gave him impregnable defense against any sort of mental interference. While I hadn’t been able to resist the effects of the fog and had ended up sleeping like a log, it must not have affected the prince at all.

We had made camp in the woods. If this fog were only a morning mist, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see it. But this was far more insidious.

I took stock of our current circumstances. “Looks like there’s been a realm merger,” I said.

“I thought so,” the prince quietly agreed.

A number of different realms had existed in Golden Dawn. Some were parallel worlds to the one people played in and were mainly used for running events, but it was possible to randomly encounter a number of spirit worlds as well.

The Realm of Spirits.

The Realm of the Dead.

The Realm of the Gods.

In the Central Nations, it was relatively common to encounter the first of those, but the last one was more often found in the edgelands.

Considering how relatively calm the prince was, these realm mergers must have been somewhat commonplace in this world as well. But something was off.

“I don’t see any of the horses around,” the prince then whispered to me.

“Maybe the fog is just too thick to see them. I can still sense their presence, so I don’t think any of them have left the barrier— Ah!”

“Bayards!” the prince and I exclaimed in unison.

This must’ve been the work of bayards. These weren’t monsters, but horses sporting void-black coats that dwelled in the spirit realm.

Sometimes, when the world of Golden Dawn merged with the Realm of Spirits, bayards would pass through the boundary between worlds at dawn in search of a mate. Were they to find a horse they wished to court, they would deceive the owner into thinking the time was still night. A bayard would steal away their partner-to-be under the mists of slumber.

“Shit,” I muttered. I could definitely tell the horses were still nearby, somewhere beyond the mist. The prince must’ve quickly woken them up.

Pulling a Sevenstrike Bow from my storage, I conjured a burst of wind and blasted the fog away from us.

As the mist quickly parted, I could see the horses, all gathered near the edge of the barrier. Standing just on the other side was a herd of magnificent black horses.

Suddenly, the white mare turned to look at me.

The bayards couldn’t enter the barrier. The horses would have to leave the barrier of their own volition, so the bayards must’ve been trying to lure her out.

A strikingly handsome bayard called to her, distracted as she was by my sudden appearance. The emotion in his voice was heartrending.

“Oh, fair maiden... Leave your master and cross into the glorious realm of spirits. I swear I shall bring you happiness, my darling,” the black horse crooned.

“Don’t think you can hit on a man’s horse and steal her away, damn you!” I shouted as I loosed an arrow.

The bayard gracefully sidestepped it with ease.

Damn S-rank ghost horses.

Although we both sat on the same S-tier, my forte was technically in crafting, so I wasn’t surprised that my combat skills were lacking compared to the bayard. That probably should’ve been obvious, though, considering its fog had knocked me clean out.

But I was superior when it came to the quality of my craftsmanship. They wouldn’t be able to break through my barrier as a result. That was why the bayard had opted for seduction tactics in an effort to have her leave the barrier herself.

Out of convenience, the powers that be (or, in other words, Golden Dawn’s development team) had made the denizens of the spirit realm speak the same language as ordinary humans. That was why I could hear every last lady-killing line the bayard could muster. This horse needed to shut up with his passionately sticky love letter!

“Hey, packhorse!” I yelled, interrupting the bayard.

“How dare you, knave! I am the one hundred and thirty-ninth prince of my sire, the king, I’ll have you know! You have no right to speak to royalty with such a foul mouth!” he whinnied back.

“We’ve got a prince over here too, and he’s next in line for the throne! So get off your high horse, you one hundred and thirty-ninth prince of losers!”

Creatures of the spirit world here were conceptually similar to the spiritual gods that inhabited all things in Shinto. For them, noble blood commanded both power and respect—or, at least, I thought they did. And, if I recalled correctly, they deeply revered things that had no physical form, like social rank and contracts.

This was the first time in my new life that I’d ever encountered a realm merger, so my recollection of how they were set up in Golden Dawn was fuzzy to say the least. (And the things I remembered were just from a strategy site. I’ve never run into a random event like this before!)

Oof, the black horse looks intimidated.

My gaze incidentally dropped to the prince, who was standing at my side. I could feel his stare drilling into me, exasperation writ plain across his face. It was probably my fault for throwing his weight around without permission.

“Um, Kariya... It seems like you actually have quite the sharp tongue,” he commented wryly.

“I wasn’t born to nobility or anything in this life or my last...” I explained. This was a little embarrassing. “Sorry. I have a potty mouth.”

Oh, so that was what he was bothered about. Yep, I did have a tendency to say whatever the hell I thought. Things just bubbled up to the surface sometimes. Maybe I’d offended him. But after I studied him for a quick second, His Kind and Magnanimous Highness seemed unbothered.

Actually, he looked more happy than anything. Or maybe “amused” would be more appropriate. He must not have been used to hearing rougher language.

“Hey! I’m still standing here! Stop ignoring me!” the bayard shouted.

“Oh, sorry, packhorse. I forgot you were there,” I responded nonchalantly.

“I am no such beast of burden!” the bayard snapped before remembering himself. “No, I will not quarrel with you about that. I am busy asking to take this lovely, fair maiden to be my wife—and I have been for a while now, had you been listening!”

I turned my attention from Wald back to the direction of the indignant whinnying. There was the white mare—she was doing her best to nestle up close to the bayard on the other side of the barrier.

She looked at me, seemingly a little apologetic, and then looked at the bayard. I swore she’d have been blushing if she could.

Oh, I see, I thought as I stared off into the distance. So your heart’s been captured by his courting, huh, Princess? He’s a real gallant stallion, isn’t he?

The bayard’s comportment was stately, dignified. His stature and physique were magnificent, and his coat had a lustrous shine. He must’ve come from fine stock.

He’s a little on the foolish side, but if he says he loves you, then all the better to be with someone devoted, right?

“Wal, do you mind if we skip the horse trader?” I asked, looking at the young man at my side.

“She came following you, Kariya. So do as you will,” he replied with a smile.

I shifted my gaze from him to the white mare. “Do you want to go with him?” I asked her.

Since she had been born in our ordinary world, she couldn’t put her thoughts into speech. But even so, her feelings shone through to me.

“All right,” I said after a moment and then called to the bayard. “Hey, packhorse!”

“I am no packhorse!”

“I don’t mind leaving her in your care, but on one condition: You have to take all of the horses here with you.”

“All of them?” he asked. “I do believe many of my retainers have taken a shine to a number among them as well, but some are geldings and may not satisfy as a mate.”

“This is her herd, and she’s their leader. Don’t make her lonely by dragging her off to your world as a bride without them.”

He huffed in excitement and nodded vigorously. Did the bayard really understand what I was getting at?

“Oh, and one more thing,” I added, “You better make her happy. I don’t know how long bayards live for, but if you’re taking her to be your wife, then at least stay by her side for as long as she lives. Be faithful to her and only her. Love and treasure her more than anything else.”

“We are not like you humans; we bayards take only one mate, and we mate for life. I swear I will make this fair maiden happy.”

I looked back at the mare. “Well, you heard him. Aren’t you a lucky girl?”

She slowly stepped toward me and gently pressed her face against my body. This must’ve been her way of saying goodbye.

I softly stroked her dazzling mane. To think that she’d been in such a sorry state when we’d first met... Now, she was a lovely maiden who’d captured a prince’s heart at first sight.

Eventually, she pulled away from me and trotted toward the herd of bayards. I released the barrier, and the horses all began to fade into the depths of the roiling mist.

I figured the bayard would leave immediately, but he—and the white mare, who was snuggled up beside him—turned to look in my direction.

“Hey,” he began. “You were her second master, weren’t you?”

“In a way, I guess.”

“She’s grateful to you. Because you took revenge for her slain first master and saved her from death’s doorstep.”

I nodded in acknowledgment.

I see...

Her original owner must’ve been killed by those border guards. She was a much finer horse than anything the mercenaries would’ve been able to afford, so she must’ve been stolen. And because of that, they hadn’t cared for her well.

“She says she’d like you to give her a new name—and this is despite the fact that I told her I’d give her a name myself if she wanted one! But she insisted her name be from you,” the black horse huffed angrily.

Oh, she was a clever girl. I glanced at her, my lips curled into a smile. She seemed to be smiling back just as cheekily.

In the spirit realm, the closer one was to spiritual godhood, the more significant it was to have a name. If he gave her a name, that could become a chain to bind her. She was better off receiving one from me.

“In that case... ‘Yuki.’ For a noble lady as white as snow. May you go in happiness...”

***

“They’re gone.”

Once the horses vanished into the other realm, the fog that had consumed the forest began to clear. Sunlight filtered down through the trees, cutting through the mist.

The prince had stood alongside me as we saw the horses off together and finally turned to look at me. “What you said earlier about marriage... Is that your stance on it?” he asked.

“Huh?” I wasn’t too sure what he was getting at.

“I mean, the oath about dedicating your whole life to loving a single partner and making them happy,” he said, clarifying his question.

“Oath?!” I echoed in surprise. The way he’d phrased it had shaken me to my core.

Now that I think about it, this world practices polygamy! It doesn’t matter how many husbands or wives a person has; it’s all okay!

On top of that, this pretty boy right in front of me was royalty. Once he reached a certain age, he could take as many wives as he wanted. He could even surround himself with lovers!

The prince looked at me expectantly, and I realized I hadn’t yet answered his question.

“W-Well, for commoners, people take only one partner as a rule,” I stammered out. “Plus, in my old world, cheating was really frowned upon once a person was married. Adultery—which is sleeping with another once you already have a partner—was basically forbidden.”

“Right,” he said in understanding. “The adventurer’s guild stipulates that if a man takes a transmigrator for a wife, she must be his one and only wife.”

“Uh, by the way... Since people made the mistake before, I just want to remind you that I wasn’t a woman in my old life.” I decided to refresh the prince’s memory just in case, recalling the way things had been miscommunicated back at Tachyrinn.

“I’m a guy,” I continued, “and I always have been. But even though it looks like people can have as many partners as they want in this world, I’d be happy with just one. And I want my partner to be happy with just me too.”

I’m not bitter over the fact that my engagement was broken off eight years ago because I wasn’t good enough on my own or anything. Really.

Man... I really had to go and open old wounds with my big mouth. I just think cheating is wrong, okay?

69. A Young Man’s Price

Now that we had handed our eighteen horses off to the bayards, the prince and I were free from the extra responsibility of taking care of them.

Even if we had continued journeying with them, we would’ve had to sell them off eventually. Letting the horses live freely in the spirit realm was a far better choice.

So now, we had set our sights on finding a settlement with an inn.

To ensure he didn’t fall ill, it was important to let the prince sleep indoors on a bed now and again. At a place like that, he wouldn’t have to worry about the rain or wind.

Roughing it outdoors for an extended time was tough. We needed to constantly be on the alert in case of a monster attack, and the hard, lumpy earth made it difficult to rest well.

I guess I could’ve just magically manifested a bed from my Pocket Dimension to sleep on, even out in the wild, but a random bed appearing in the great outdoors was so insanely improbable that the sight would definitely blow people’s minds. If a total stranger happened to catch sight of it, they’d probably spin that yarn for decades.

Besides, if word got out about that, the adventurer’s guild would probably find it strange—so strange that they’d investigate. And we needed to avoid being caught at all costs.

So, for now, we focused on passing through the woods to find a settlement.

We eventually did...but unlike Helenna, which had been a large town, we came across a mid-sized farming village.

Green fields of juvenile wheat stretched across the plains. Situated at the center of these fields sat a village surrounded by a wooden wall. Its gates were left wide open; it didn’t seem like they were demanding a toll either.

The plaza in the center of the little village was filled with people and bustling with activity. We must’ve arrived on one of their regular market days.

Wald looked out over the crowd. “Do you think we’ll be able to find an inn with a vacancy?”

A passing woman caught his murmur and called back to us. “You’ll probably be fine!”

This was the last day of the market, so the visitors from neighboring villages would apparently be heading home tonight instead of staying the night. Which meant that even the inn that was smack-dab in the middle of all this activity and had been completely booked would be emptying out by tonight.

“Let’s reserve a room at the inn and then have a look around the market,” I suggested.

The young prince had been looking around the market in fascination. When he heard my suggestion, he flashed me a smile like a blossom coming into full bloom. This must have been the first time His Highness had ever been to a busy market.

Wald grasped one of the straps hanging from the pack on my shoulders and held it tight; he must’ve thought to do that as a precaution against getting separated. It was an adorable choice.

The first inn we stopped at was still booked full for tonight.

We just had to try our luck somewhere else. Despite being a village, this place was busy enough that it had three whole inns. Impressive.

The next inn, which was one grade lower than the previous, had some free rooms for tonight. Apparently, they had both private rooms and shared rooms available.

The larger shared rooms had beds all lined up with utterly no personal space at all. Considering that we were checking out the inns from the best to worst, the remaining inn probably had similar arrangements—or worse.

For the safety of my charge, there wasn’t even a choice. We’d have to take a private room.

For a bed in the shared room, the inn was charging twenty gold per person. But a single private room was seventy. They didn’t provide meals either.

When I asked to book a private room, the inn proprietress followed up with another question.

“Are you looking for a good time? We can arrange for someone to come up.”

“Huh?”

I guess they mediate hookups here...

“Uh, let me think...” I mumbled in understanding as I broke out into a cold sweat.

This was a small village, after all. They wouldn’t have dedicated establishments for prostitution here.

For a one-night stand, it was good enough to take a partner to an inn as an escort. And this particular establishment offered a service to mediate this, cutting down on the time and effort needed to find one yourself. The women probably weren’t professionals—they were likely widows in the village and such. The private rooms here were probably often used for these hookups.

The previous inn we’d tried had been family-oriented, so it probably would’ve been safe enough to stay in the communal room there. But here? If we weren’t careful, there was a chance we’d bump into someone willing to get raunchy, even in a public space.

Explaining that I was with my brother, I refused the innkeeper’s offer and took the key from her. I had the impression that the proprietress was trying to suppress an oddly knowing laugh at my response.

Hmm... Maybe she thought I was too chicken to have fun.

Well, whatever. Better that than having someone barge into our room. As long as I locked the door, I figured everything should be fine.

Placating myself with the thought, I climbed up the dimly lit staircase to our room despite the fact that it was still the middle of the afternoon.

“Hey, um, Wal?”

Once I arrived at the room and unlocked it, I called back to the prince—he’d been following behind me.

“This inn also doubles as a place for casual encounters, so...there’s only one bed in the room.”

I’d said that before I had actually checked the room, talking as I opened the door, but the room was exactly as I’d expected. The bed was a semi-double, which was narrow for two but probably still bigger than the singles that likely occupied a shared room.

“We’ll have to share the bed; it’d be a shame for one of us to sleep on the floor when we paid for a perfectly good bed to use. Getting a good night’s sleep will give us our money’s worth,” I told him.

“O-Okay.”

“I swear once more that I won’t touch you or anything, so you can rest easy. Just so you know, this sort of thing happens even in the shared rooms as well—if a lot of people happen to be staying at the inn, then the beds would have to be split between people as well.”

“I trust you, Kariya.”

“Thanks. And you know, the good thing about sharing a bed is that I only need to reach out to grab hold of you. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, but if, for some reason, we end up being attacked by an enemy, I’ll be close enough to immediately Jump with you to escape.”

“Thank you...” Wald mumbled.

“That’s nothing to thank me for,” I said with a laugh.

I stepped into the room. First, I opened the window and used a little wind magic to cycle out the air inside. I couldn’t help but feel a little concerned about it, knowing what this room was ordinarily used for.

I set my pack down next to the wall and stripped out of my traveling gear.

The prince did the same next to me, removing his cloak.

Putting only my wallet into my jacket pocket, I suggested that we head to the market now.

I gave the prince five gold coins as spending money and told him that he was free to use them if anything caught his eye.

His cheeks reddened, and he joyfully pulled a change purse from his pocket and tucked the coins away.

Oh my god, he was so cute.

I think, because we had been away from civilization for a long while, we were probably feeling giddy and over the moon.

After dropping our luggage and changing into more comfortable clothing, we left our room.

As I walked down the hallway, a thought came to mind. I decided to show the prince the room on the opposite side of the stairs. It’d be another stop on our social studies field trip.

“That’s it there, Wal. The shared room. The beds are really small, you see? They don’t even have enough space to roll over.”

“Wow, you’re right.”

Maybe it was because the sun was still high in the sky, but there was no one occupying the room right now. Luggage had been left here and there, but their owners had probably only left behind things they could afford to part with. Keeping valuables close at hand was a basic, ironclad rule for traveling.

“If multiple people are meant to pack into a single bed like sardines, the beds are usually a little bigger than these.”

“Do you ordinarily stay in a shared room like this?” he asked.

“Nah, I only stay at inns when I’m chosen to handle shopping errands for my village. If I’m traveling alone, then I usually just sleep in a stable. They don’t charge for that,” I explained.

Wald stared at me. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

I mean, I was a crafter. I had my own sleeping bags, insect repellents, and air fresheners. It was actually a pretty comfortable experience.

You really don’t need to look at me like I grew a second head— Wait, hm?

A man who seemed to be another guest at this inn was coming up the stairs.

Since Wald and I had been crowded around the entrance of the room, we shuffled aside to let the man through.

After a moment of sizing me and the prince up, the man gestured me over.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Is he your escort?” he said gruffly, pointing his thumb toward the prince.

I stared at the man. “No, he’s my brother.”

My mistake hit me like a sack of bricks. I had left my cloak in the room, and Wald had done the same. The prince’s eyes were wide with shock—he must’ve realized his oversight as well.

“I see, ha ha! You’ve got an awfully cute brother—how about lettin’ him make some pocket change? I’ll give you fifty, no—seventy gold for him, and I’ll make sure he gets back to you by the evenin’, you get me?”

“That’s like nothing!” I blurted out, unintentionally laying bare both my obvious disdain and my urge to kill the man where he stood.

What the fuck? He was clearly giving a lowball offer, right in front of the prince of unparalleled beauty himself!

And this guy would offer the price of a room for him?! I had never hired a mistress before, so I had no idea what the going rates were, but was that how much these services went for in the sticks?

“You could offer a whole trove of gold coins, and I still wouldn’t sell my brother!” I snarled.

The man dropped to his knees in fear. “Agh, my bad! You were standing right there in the door, so I thought you came to earn some cash before you had your way with him for the night... I’m sorry!” he cried.

I grabbed Wald’s hand, and we returned to our room. Once there, we went over our mistakes.

I groaned. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought us to such a shady inn,” I said.

Wald was likewise remorseful. “I, too, must apologize. I had taken my cloak off without thinking...”

With our interest in the market long gone, we decided to stay in our room for the rest of the day.

Markets weren’t anything unique to this village; other towns and settlements were sure to host their own. There would be other opportunities to see one.

After having dinner, which was freshly pulled from my Pocket Dimension, we decided to turn in early.

The encounter with the man during the afternoon had left a bad taste in our mouths, which made sharing a bed all the more awkward. There was nothing to be done about it, though. We only had one bed, after all.

Given the cheery noise filtering in through the window, the village was still bustling. The merchants, their purses heavy with money from sales, would probably be up late drinking after the market wrapped.

But the afternoon’s events still weighed on my mind. I couldn’t believe that I had been mistaken for a gang boss, pimp, or whatever else.

Yeesh. Barbarians must be bad news.

Did they ordinarily sell their brothers for chump change? And given what the man had said, it had sounded like he’d thought I was going to have a go at the prince myself.

Did siblings sleep together in this world? Oh, wait—Wald had told me himself that they did, provided that they had different mothers.

Besides the color of our hair, the prince and I looked completely different. That was probably why the man had made that assumption...

As I reflected on this, the meaning behind the proprietress’s smile dawned on me. Did she think I was a twink chaser or something? I wasn’t!

And that aside, there was something else I wanted to make clear...

That offer had been way too low for the prince!

Just look at how dignified, cute, and vivacious this lovely young man is! If I were to put him up for auction, I’d set the starting bid at one hundred million gold! Not that I’d ever auction him off, but you know!

Given the way my stream of consciousness was filled with intrusive thoughts, my mind must’ve been poisoned by light novels in my old life.

I began to drift into slumber as these dumb fancies jumped around my brain in every direction.

The doorknob of our locked door jiggled violently. The harsh, grating rattle reverberated through the room, and although our door remained closed, it shook in its frame.

Wald and I had been careful to make some space between us when we’d lain down in bed, but now we closed it in an instant. He grabbed my arm and clung to me, and I threw my hands around his back to draw him close.

“Huh? The key’s not working... Hic.”

“Oh, honey. That’s not our room. Ours is next to it...”

A clearly drunk couple was merrily cavorting in the hallway.

I softly exhaled.

The prince, nestled under my arm, whispered, “You know... You were right, Kariya.”

“Hm?”

“I feel safe sleeping next to you.”

He smiled up at me, then moved a short distance away.

Just far enough that he was still within arm’s reach, but closer than where he had been resting before.

“Good night.”

“Good night to you too,” I whispered, and then closed my eyes.

But...it wasn’t like I could get a single wink of the forty I’d wanted tonight. The walls were paper-thin, and we could hear every last noise from our neighbors’ passionate lovemaking.

Next time, we’ll stay at a family-friendly inn.

70. Congratulations to Me on My New Tent

I finished crafting the tent just in time before the monsoon arrived.

The world of Golden Dawn—and the Central Nations, which were situated right in the center of that world—experienced four seasons. Because its seasons had been designed to be similar to those in Japan, its summers were hot and its winters cold. Spring blessed the world with lush greenery, while fall dyed the leaves red.

And Golden Dawn also had a monsoon season, which this world reflected as well.

I’d been panicking a little about whether I’d make it in time, but just before the rain poured down on us, I finally finished the tent that would let us rough it even in the wettest weather.

“Sorry for the wait, Wal!”

We were at one of the many rest stops scattered every so often along the highway. The open space here was equipped with an anti-monster barrier around its perimeter, and I had completed pitching my handmade tent in a corner of it.

At a glance, the tent was a small and typical-looking triangular one that’d been fashioned out of gray giant frog leather. The design was similar to a shelter half or pup tent, like the ones used by the military. As suggested by the name, these tents were actually made up of two halves. Each soldier would have their own half of a pup tent, including all of the tarps, support poles, rope, and stakes. By having two soldiers combine their halves, you’d have a single tent.

Drive the two support poles into the ground, and secure the edge of the hexagonal tent sheet over them. Use a stake on the opposite edge and presto! One half of the tent is done.

Because the sheet was hexagonal, the extra triangular section of fabric provided you with cover at the front and back of the tent. It also served as the tent’s entrance and exit. It was a nice, simple design.

Up till now, whenever we’d had to sleep outdoors in wet weather, I would just hook the edge of a waterproof tarp over the support poles to make a lean-to, and we’d pass the night sitting curled up beneath. It’d been like trying to use a broken umbrella.

But now, with a real tent, we could lie down.

Of course, it went without saying that no tent of my creation would be merely ordinary—I was an Item Master, after all!

Now come, young prince!

He stood in front of the tent, gazing upon my handiwork with admiration. I encouraged him to enter it.

“I went all out to make this tent!” I said. “The entrance might be small, but there’s a lot of space inside. Once you go inside, try pulling back the sheet of blue frog leather on either side of the tent.”

Heh heh heh. I couldn’t suppress a gleeful chuckle. The prince cocked his head at me—the oddly excited barbarian—and then slipped into the tent. He spent a moment inside before crawling back out.

“K-K-Kariya! There’s another room inside it! There’s so much space!” he cried.

This time, I didn’t bother holding back my mirth.

This tent had a trick to it—I had designed it like a nesting doll. The main part of the tent looked completely ordinary. A tent that was precisely the size it appeared. But peel back the panel of blue frog leather lining the tarp, and another dimension would appear.

Well, to spoil the secret, I had basically attached two more tents inside of it to create more space. That meant the tent had two rooms inside, one for Wal and one for me. Each was large enough to be considered a small bedroom.

I had already placed a closet, a bed, and a small table in each room. These square rooms had no windows, but I had affixed lights to the ceiling. There was even enough space to wash up in the private confines without risk of peepers.

“Do you need any other furniture? If I have it in my storage, I’ll pull it out for you,” I began asking, but Wal interrupted me.

“Allow me to thank you once more, Kariya. I had no idea of just how serious you were, but I see now that your work is nothing short of stunning...”

I laughed again.

This barbarian was grinning from the praise heaped on him by the excited, emerald-eyed boy. His sheer amazement and surprise made me happy.

And this wasn’t even the work of an SS or SSS-tier crafter—just an S-tier one! But the way he couldn’t stop exclaiming animatedly warmed my heart.

I had been so caught up in my bashful joy that I hadn’t noticed two men on horseback cantering down the highway, approaching the rest area, until just then.

The two men astride the horses must’ve been adventurers—their mismatched armor was proof of that. Had they been in matching equipment, I would have taken them for soldiers.

“Already claimed the campsite, have you?” one shouted to us in greeting. “Awfully early in the day to be making camp.”

It was, but I’d done it to unveil my completed tent.

Entering the open rest area, one of the men swung himself down from his horse. He walked toward us.

The man greeting us had shockingly vibrant red hair. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear he’d earned some nicknames because of it. He seemed to be in his late twenties, and he was a handsomely rugged man with a bright, friendly smile.

The other man, who was tall and lanky, remained seated on his horse. He was probably keeping an eye on us.

That guy must be real dedicated to his bit.

“We were planning on setting out early in the morning,” I replied to the redhead. Then, I asked a question in return. “Are you two escorting a caravan?”

“Aye, and it’s a big one—’bout thirty people all told. You boys don’t mind if we use the rest of the site?”

He wasn’t really asking for permission, but that didn’t bother me.

“As long as you leave the area around our tent open, my brother and I don’t mind. Go ahead and use the rest of the space,” I told him.

“Thanks, lads.” He then turned and called out to his companion. “Hey, go back and let the boss know that there are two people at the rest stop already, but we’re free to use the space.”

“All right,” said the other with a nod, then circled his horse back down the road.

Evidently, the redhead was going to remain here. I thought maybe he was still wary of us, but apparently, he was only staying here to get the space ready for his employers before they arrived.

Taking the bundle of twigs that had been loaded up on the horse, he placed them into the firepit at the center of the rest area. He lit them, starting a crackling fire. The scent that wafted from the open flames was one particularly effective at keeping monsters at bay. The rest area was already safe from the local wildlife, but he must have been taking extra precautions.

Honestly, I was impressed by his work. Maybe he was an adventurer whose specialty was escorting caravans.

Wal quietly stepped to my side to whisper a question to me. “I know it’s a little silly to be asking at this point, but do you think I ought to hide my face?”

Oh, right. He hadn’t been wearing his cloak when the men had approached.

“They’ve already got their eyes on us. If anything happens, we can deal with it right away. So I think it’s fine to be open this time, Al,” I said.

He nodded, taking note of my deliberate usage of his other nickname. “Okay, big bro.”

Keeping tabs on people in a bustling town was a fool’s errand, but this space was small. If something were to go wrong, I could handle it easily enough.

“’Scuse me, lads!” the man called out to us again. “D’ya know if there’s a watering hole around here?”

I shook my head in response.

While the rest area was safe from the threat of monsters, it didn’t have a well—maybe it was because they hadn’t been designed with any back in Golden Dawn.

Had there been a source of water, a post town might’ve popped up here instead. But for most of the stretch of highway, there hadn’t been a drop of water. No one would be able to live out here, so rest areas remained as simple, open clearings.

To be honest, since people generally got around the vast areas in Golden Dawn with Jump, these rest areas were typically only used as unlockable save points. That was why every rest area had a stele carved with a unique identifier. No two rest areas had the same pattern.

“There weren’t any along the highway from the direction we came in. Is there no one in your caravan who can use water magic?” I asked.

“We’ve got one, but we’ve got a few more people than expected right now. Handling that many alone might be tough. But thanks for the info.”

“My brother can use water magic. Do you need our help?”

“You sure?” he asked, fixing his eyes on the youth standing beside me.

Wal didn’t say anything but gave him a small nod.

The only water we kept on us was in the waterskins at our hips. But even if we hid the fact that we could use water magic, the man and the rest of his caravan would instantly know we had access to it if we used water during our meal prep.

“Thanks again! Then it’d be great if we could get your help. The name’s Keith, by the way. I’m with the Green Robins.” Then, as if reconsidering his lack of decorum toward strangers who had offered their assistance, he added a quick “We owe you one.”

I shrugged. “There’s no need for that; we’re all friends here. I’m Arowa, and my brother’s Al. We’ll only be around for a single night, but let’s make it a good one.”

“Right. Put ’er there.”

Keith walked up to me with an extended hand. I took it, and we exchanged a friendly handshake.

Temporary alliances like this were common. Different groups of travelers sharing the same rest stop could work together to handle the night watch, and those with knowledge of water magic could help others out. Sometimes, those providing water would even be paid for their work.

I gotta say, even barbarians from the remotest reaches of the world knew that much.

“Uh, big bro?” Wal sounded hesitant.

“It’s fine, Al. Practitioners who can handle magic at a level useful for daily life are uncommon among ordinary folk, but they do exist. It just so happens that between us two brothers, you’re the one blessed with magic,” I explained.

“No, that’s not what I wanted to talk about,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I just wanted to ask, um...” He trailed off, voice dropping to a whisper. “Who’s Arowa?”

Oh, so that was what’d caught his attention.

71. The Non-Combat Specialist

I explained to Wal that Arowa was the name of an old friend from my home village.

“I see,” he said plainly.

I didn’t tell him that Arowa had fought in the war alongside me, nor that he had also been at Croway Plains.

The Gaelius platoon had been positioned at the far eastern edge of our formation. If they had been near the Black Forest, they should have been able to escape through the woods thanks to the monster-warding scented pouches I’d given them. I knew that they were alive.

Climbing back onto his horse, Keith said he was going to patrol around the area to ensure no monsters were milling about, and he left the rest area. After a while, a caravan traveling along the highway toward us came into view.

Coincidentally, Keith returned at the same time.

Given that this spot was surrounded by open plains as far as the eye could see, I doubted that any dangerous monsters would be milling around these parts.

And so, the caravan of traveling merchants, surrounded by their protective entourage of adventurers, entered the rest area. In the blink of an eye, the empty area morphed into a proper campsite.

The coaches lined the perimeter of the campground, providing cover should the camp be attacked by outside enemies. That was a tactic made possible by the fact that their caravan had so many people. Since there were only two of us, the prince and I would set up camp near the entrance to the open rest area, closer to the road. That would reduce the number of weaknesses in our own defenses.

While the rest area prevented monsters from entering, it had no such effect on humans. In other words, we had to plan around potential bandits.

At least we didn’t have to worry about fire arrows; bandits weren’t likely to destroy what they were trying to steal.

Keith brought me and Wal to a large, broad-shouldered merchant—the leader of the caravan. We introduced ourselves to each other.

After that, Wal made a spectacular showing, and he was officially commissioned by the merchants for his water magic.

After first filling a watering trough for their horses to drink, he refilled the barrels of water they kept for human consumption.

Mages were priceless. Especially water mages—their magic helped fulfill people’s basic daily needs.

Boy, was the prince ever popular. I supposed it wasn’t surprising, and people couldn’t stop showering the handsome young mage with attention.

The women who were handling the dinner preparations, both young and old, watched the prince. They kept getting distracted by him.

And as I kept an eye on that spectacle, I was holding a wooden training sword and facing off with Keith for some reason.

How did things end up this way?!

Keith grinned. “I’ve been itching to get a practice round or two in ever since I arrived,” he said. “I can’t get rusty. But I’ve long since learned how my mates fight, so I can see right through every move of theirs. Sometimes I just really want a new training partner; you know how it is. Thanks, Arowa.”

The adventuring party Keith belonged to was a traditional six-person group typically seen in RPGs. Their members included a swordsman who handled offense and a shield-toting warrior who handled defense. The lanky man astride the horse we saw earlier was a ranger who was in charge of scouting. To round out the rest of their party, they had an archer, a fire mage, and a healer.

Holy priests who could handle reviving the fallen were affiliated with temples, so they didn’t become adventurers unless it was part of their training.

The man with the shield was also their leader. He was an older man—the gruff, silent sort. I had gotten the impression that he’d seen a lot of battles over the years.

He also had a daughter—the young archer. The two magic users were also young women. This party was well put together and cohesive; they probably had their daily affairs in fine order.

It was clear that everyone in the party adored their leader. They all respected him—he seemed to be the type to look after the rest of his party and help train up the less experienced members, regardless of their skill level.

And Keith was their swordsman. He specialized in two-handed broadswords.

I was already at a disadvantage in combat against him because of that, and to top things off, I appraised him and found that he was a B-tier fighter—the highest proficiency tier for an NPC.

Their taciturn leader was at B-tier as well. The ranger was C-tier, and the girls were all D-tier, but since their pillars of offense and defense were rock solid, this party would be a tough one to defeat.

We faced each other in a space we’d cleared out in the center of the rest area, near the bonfire but not intruding on the area directly around it. The merchants who had finished their own tasks to set up camp sat down nearby to watch our duel, shouting and jeering in merriment. I guessed that in a way, this was a show for them.

I wish I could sit around and chill too.

“So,” Keith said, drawing my drifting attention back to him and our fight. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

He kicked off against the ground into a full dash, bolting toward me.

I was holding a wooden one-handed sword, identical to the one he was wielding with perfect familiarity. Had Keith furnished himself with a broadsword, he could definitely kill me if any of his blows were to land in a bad place.

Our swords clashed. I let his attack slide along my blade as I threw myself into a dodge, slipping behind him. Our spots now reversed, Keith threw his weight into his momentum to swing himself around. He turned and took a half-step backward—narrowly dodging the tip of my own sword thrust with perfect prediction.

But I couldn’t let him keep pushing me backward. If I did, I’d end up trapped with my back to the wall.

I kept dodging his blows—one and another and another—as if stepping in time to a dance. If I couldn’t avoid them, then I took advantage of his attacks to put distance between us.

His defense was impenetrable; I couldn’t find a single opening. Whenever I tried to feint, he saw right through me and took the opportunity to launch his own counterattacks.

I saw through his feints as well, but I couldn’t fight back. I was stuck defending. Even if we continued fighting, I doubted anything would change.

“Damn, Arowa! You’re not bad at all!” Keith exclaimed jovially. “You can go ahead and attack me too, you know?”

“That’s not happening,” I wheezed between his strikes. “You know you’re not giving me any openings!”

Stuck in a close-range fight, I had to muster every ounce of effort I could to keep him from landing a hit.

I can’t exactly go and expose my own secrets, so I’m gonna have to keep my grumbling to myself, but let me just say this... My proficiency with swords is only at C-tier! I’m just a crafter, okay?!

While my magical prowess all across the elemental board was B-tier, which gave me the ability to send heads rolling with nary a whisper (or incanted spell), I definitely couldn’t do that here.

Casting Jump was out of the cards as well, which left me without any options for creating distance between us. I had plenty of stamina, so I wasn’t worried about keeping this up, but I knew that if I remained stuck in melee range, I would lose.

I stepped on a rock and slipped. My guard dropped.

Not even a moment later, Keith’s sword came to a stop a hair’s breadth from my throat. The tip of his sword didn’t waver in the slightest. He still had plenty of fight left in him.

The redhead grinned at me, looking pleased. “Damn, you were really something. Your dodging was real impressive. I can’t believe you’re barely out of breath after all that.”

Despite his comment, I panted as I tried to catch my breath. “Coming from you...” I said, “as you’re not winded at all... That doesn’t feel very impressive...”

“But you can still go for another round, right? Let’s start round two, c’mon!”

“Apologies...but I am respectfully...going to have to refuse,” I joked with a faux air of propriety to underscore my objection. “Let me take a breather...”

Amid the burst of clapping and cheering from the spectators for the battle, I made my way back to the prince with wobbling footsteps. He was waiting for me with a cup filled with water. Wal was always so kind.

Taking the proffered water, I gulped it down in a single breath, then sat down on the spot.

Agh, I was pooped!

“I didn’t think you’d lose,” Wal murmured. A slight smile tugged at his lips.

“I’m not very strong, you know.”

Keith approached us, the rest of his party in tow. “Your name was Al, right?” he asked. “Your brother’s not a swordsman, but he managed to keep up with me. That makes him pretty damn skilled in his own way,” he explained before turning to me with a smile of his own. “Right?”

I smiled back, although it was a little strained on my part.

“Maybe. I’m actually an archer, so if I’d gotten thirty meters on you...” I replied as I grasped the bow that’d been leaning against our tent. Nocking an arrow, I pointed it overhead into the sky to fire three times in rapid succession. “I might’ve won with more space.”

The loosed arrows came plunging back to the earth, having pierced through... One, two...three large fowl that had been flying overhead.

“Holy shit!” Keith exclaimed as other members of the adventurer party likewise shouted in amazement.

“Um, I use a bow too. Could you give me some tips?!” cried their party’s young archer.

Dogs kept by the merchants of the caravan excitedly picked up the fallen game and were now prancing about with them in delight.

As the ranger, the two spellcasters, and the cute, freckled girl begged for more demonstrations, the scene devolved into sheer chaos.

Paying no heed to the fuss, the dogs proudly brought the birds to their masters. I let them—the caravan had invited me and Wal to dine with them tonight, so that was our contribution to the coming repast.

I agreed to teach the party’s archer. In exchange, I decided to ask Keith to give Wal some lessons on swordplay.

When I brought that up, Keith was confused. “Huh? Wasn’t your brother a mage?” he asked.

“Yes, but unlike me, he has some experience training under a proper swordsman—I’m only self-taught,” I explained. “There’s no harm in his learning from a professional. So, please.”

“Well, if he can only use water magic, then his offensive options will be limited in a fight,” Keith mused to himself for a moment. “All right. He’d be better off knowing his way around a sword as well.”

Tapping his wooden sword over his shoulder, the redhead walked up to the younger man.

“Al, right? Well, Al, since your brother will be in the rearguard as a ranged attacker, will you protect him with your sword to fend off any attacking enemies?”

“I swear it,” Wal said firmly.

“Excellent!”

Keith grinned broadly and then strode off toward the open spot in the rest area with Wal in tow.

Wal’s skill with the sword was C-tier. I’d been his mentor and practice partner since Tachyrinn. Whenever we had the time, we still sparred together. We’d been evenly matched in our bouts as of late.

I’m glad to see that running him through boot camp has paid off.

Knowing that he was going to surpass me in the future was a little bittersweet, but I couldn’t be sour about it—he had royal blood running through his veins, after all. In this world that mirrored a video game so closely, royalty and their generals were expected to stand on the front lines during times of strife—just as they would in vaunted stories of heroism.

Having once been a Japanese man, I wanted to insist that he, in his exalted position, stay back where it was safe and focus on issuing commands to others. But in this world, it was only common sense that leaders would take to the field themselves.

That was what was expected of people who stood above all others. Of heroes.

They would always cut a forward path, rallying their allies. If they were to show fear before their enemies, their armies would become disillusioned and desert. The heroes must always be the ones to cast the first stone in battle and last to retreat and abandon the field.

I’d been impressed that the late king and crown prince of Tiuccia had often stood on the front lines despite having been mages—but that had simply been part and parcel of their roles as royalty.

To make matters worse for them, the authority of their royal family had fractured and crumbled six years ago. If they were to commit another crime of the highest order, their subjects would abandon them, and the kingdom would fall from the inside out. To restore their lost influence, they had been compelled to stand at the forefront of battle, no matter the cost.

This youth would follow in their footsteps. Once he returned to his kingdom, his fate as king would be one full of battle and strife.

All I could do for him now was teach him what I knew and find opportunities for him to train. It was so he wouldn’t die the moment he had to set foot on the battlefield.

Keith and Wal had begun to cross their wooden blades. Pulling my gaze from them, I set about giving the young archer her lesson.

72. A Night of Rest

My bribe (three whole fowl) had been so effective that not only did the merchants treat us to a fine dinner, but they also agreed to keep vigil for the night. They’d already decided on the night watch among themselves, so they told us we were free to get a good night’s sleep. Maybe they also were doing this out of thanks for the water magic.

After dinner, we were all gathered around the bonfire, even after the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon. There were few threats on an open plain like this, where enemies could be spotted at a long distance, so tonight would probably be restful for the merchants as well.

Wine flowed freely, and Wal and I were invited to partake as well.

Crates were unloaded from the wagons to use as makeshift chairs, and a lively din filled the rest area as people flitted from one another in conversation.

“Hey, you... Don’t you think you might be a transmigrator?”

This question had come from a woman deep in her cups. It was directed not at me but to Prince Wald, who was sitting beside me.

He froze at her unexpected words, and his grip tightened around the cup of wine in his hand.

His lack of response didn’t seem to deter the woman, however, and she continued. “I mean, like, I’ve heard that transmigrators are all gorgeous people, and they can use magic to boot. Hey, Tagh? That’s how it was with your niece, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” The older man who was sitting on the opposite side of the bonfire joined our conversation. He had responded with a slightly embarrassed smile.

No one seemed to be surprised by this news. Everyone must’ve already known about this.

“The girl’s the daughter of my little sister. The guild took her in, so now my sister and my niece are living in Raghion,” Tagh explained.

“She was so pretty... As pretty as this little mage here. And I heard she ran into a lot of trouble because of that,” murmured the woman.

“Oh, yeah... But that was a long time ago,” he said. “These days, my sister sends me letters now and then. She’s always talking about how happy they are now.”

“Really? That’s wonderful. I’m happy to hear it.” The woman, who was clearly drunk, nodded to herself as if she’d come to some private conclusion on her own.

The prince and I listened to their exchange in blank astonishment.

Keith, who was sitting on the prince’s other side, had a twinkle in his eye as he told us more. “The boss of this caravan’s known our party for ages. We’re so close that Tagh’s told us all sorts of stories about his niece.”

“I gotta admit, I don’t follow,” I replied. “What’s this business about his niece and transmigrators? Oh, and just to be clear, Al isn’t one.”

Yeah, the transmigrator is me.

“Yeah, figures he wouldn’t be one,” Keith agreed. “It’s not like transmigrators grow on trees. I heard Tagh’s niece didn’t realize she was one until she was around ten years old, going on eleven. They’d lived out in the countryside too, so it was only discovered when the dispatch from the adventurer’s guild made it to their village during their rounds.”

I nodded quietly. “I see. Interesting.”

And now she was living in the city. The countryside was just... Well, I guessed that the patrols had come to Gaelius too, despite how far out of the way it was, but I had never noticed them.

But anyway, I guessed that the existence of transmigrators was pretty common knowledge. Maybe it was because the adventurer’s guild had spent so much time and effort educating people about them.

“After that,” Keith continued, “the man of the house got greedy. Even though the girl was his own daughter, he sold her for cold, hard cash, like she was a slave.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was shocked, of course, but this was starting to sound like a familiar story.

“The buyer was lord of the demesne. But the girl—a magic-user, mind you—bided her time until she managed to escape, and she returned home. Tagh took her and her mother away from the village, brought ’em to the adventurer’s guild in the big city, and the rest is history. But after what went down, Tagh can’t show his face around those parts anymore.”

Somehow, I had an inkling of what had happened to the lord and the niece’s father afterward. When I asked Keith about it, he confirmed my guess.

“Transmigrators look out for their own and all, and that’s the reason he can’t ever go back—the guild’s transmigrators slew his lordship and the father in retaliation. I heard that if a transmigrator’s found, the guild gives their family large sums to help pay for raising the kid. As for why the girl’s father couldn’t be satisfied with that, I wonder...”

After that had happened, Tagh had joined up with this mercantile caravan. He received money and letters from his sister every so often, but the letters brought him far more joy than the coin.

Tagh’s such a good person...

But when I glanced to my side, I could tell that the smile plastered on the prince’s face was somewhat forced. He probably had a lot of things on his mind regarding the story.

I gently placed my hand on his back, which had stiffened ramrod straight.

He noticed my gaze at last. “Right...” he murmured, finally relaxing a bit.

But just as I was about to give him some small words of comfort, my field of vision was filled by the drunk woman from earlier.

“Hey... ‘Big bro’!” she drawled.

“Excuse me?” I said, taken aback.

“Al’s such a pretty little thing, and he can use magic too! So you be sure to protect him, all right? So he’s not mistaken for a transmigrator and sold off like a slave!”

“Of course,” I replied stiffly.

That’s some crazy drunk reasoning, lady!

She wasn’t wrong, though. The prince was a trifecta of excellence—a spellcaster, pretty, and cute as a button.

“Make sure you protect him from this scruffy redhead too, y’hear? Keith swings that way, now don’t cha, Keith!”

“I’m sorry?” I blinked. I hadn’t expected the conversation to turn in that direction.

“Come on now, ma’am,” Keith sighed, though his voice was still colored by good humor. “I don’t deny it, but I know what I like, and it ain’t teenagers. I’d rather have a partner ’bout my own age.”

But the woman’s interest in Keith was already gone, as she turned back to me and peered into my face. “Oh my, oh my! Now that I have a good look at you, you’re also awfully handsome. Being Al’s brother, it makes sense you’d be a looker!”

Keith laughed at her exclamation, but she wasn’t paying him any attention. Instead, she grasped my face with both hands and brought her head close to mine.

“I knew it! Shave that beard! That nasty beard’s all in the way! You’ll be a whole new you!” She snorted deeply with her declaration and nodded to herself in satisfaction. After that, she hobbled off somewhere with drunken footsteps.

Whew... Freedom.

“Now let’s see here.”

I felt new fingers on my chin, and my head was turned to the side.

Keith was seated next to me. His red hair seemed to glow all the more vibrantly in the flickering light of the fire. He laughed mirthfully. His blue eyes swept over me, but then, for some reason, they shot wide open.

The very next moment, my vision went black.

“Don’t.”

Wal had reached around from behind me and had placed his hands over my face. He’d pulled me back toward him, and I felt Keith’s fingers leave my chin.

The back of my head landed against Wal’s chest with a gentle thump. He must’ve gotten up to kneel behind me.

“Kari— Er, my brother’s mine. I request that you refrain from touching him or giving him such improper looks... Um, speaking as his blood brother.”

“Ah, no... It’s just, that beard—”

“There is no man more suited for a beard than my brother. This I declare as his very own sibling!” Wal exclaimed. Then, he began to plead with me. “Never shave your beard, brother!”

All I could do was sit there, blinking under the darkness of Wal’s impromptu blindfold. His conversation with Keith seemed to come to a conclusion.

When Wal finally released his hands from me, the first thing I saw was the red-haired man. Keith had curled up on himself and was doubled over in laughter. Wal’s comment had hit its mark, and the older man couldn’t say anything else.

Was it because Wal had kept emphasizing the word “beard”? I bet it was. What else could be that funny?

“We need to be up early tomorrow. So let’s turn in, big bro.”

“R-Right,” I said.

We wished the people remaining around the campfire a good night and returned to our tent. When we did, Keith’s grin remained plastered on his face as he kept a lid on his guffawing.

He must’ve really loved to laugh. When I called out to him to wish him a good night, he raised a single hand and waved to me.

We returned to our tent.

Wal looked between the flaps of blue frog leather inside. “Okay,” he began, “Which room should I take?”

“Either one’s fine,” I replied. “Actually, hold on; let’s not use the rooms tonight. We’ll sleep in the main area here instead.”

“Huh?”

“It’s just in case any of the merchants decide to peek in here,” I said. “I’ll have to add a trick to the entrance for next time so that if anyone looks in here, they’ll see an illusion of us sleeping. It only just hit me now that that might be a good idea. I don’t have time to set something up like that tonight, though, so we’ll just sleep here. It might be a little cramped, but we’ll both fit if we lie side by side.”

He was quiet for a moment. “All right,” he said.

Sorry for disappointing you, Wal.

He must’ve been so excited to sleep in his own room, on his own bed. My bad—I should’ve been more thoughtful.

***

Once we finished getting ready to head out in the morning, a member of the caravan approached. He said that if we happened to be traveling in the same direction as them, we were welcome to join them.

Having more water mages around was better than not, after all. Which wasn’t to say that the prince was one—he could use other elemental magic as well.

Speaking of the prince, Wal looked sleep-deprived this morning. I guessed that he’d had trouble getting to sleep. Since I’d fallen asleep first, I had no idea what had happened while I had slept. The rest area outside our tent had been roaring with boisterous noise until late, so maybe it’d bothered him.

“Ah, so you’re heading in the other direction,” lamented the merchant. I could see their shoulders drop at the news. “Well, if you’re heading north, do be careful. A war’s broken out at the base of the Northern Ridges, which is why we’re taking the southern route. Khrasiel’s been at war for ages, but they’re fighting with the Southern Bloc—which means their business won’t interrupt ours.”

“Khrasiel...” Wal echoed in a subdued murmur.

I nodded at the merchant’s words and took a step forward. “By the way, now that you mention it... How’s the war going down there?”

Wal glanced at me but didn’t say a word.

“It’s still ongoing, but I think they’re doing pretty well. They still buy our supplies, and since they’re winning, they get plenty of mercenaries flocking to them—they must think it’s easy money. I think they’re hiring adventurers too, aren’t they, boss?”

The leader of the adventuring party—the man who bore a shield and was currently standing on the opposite side of the rest area’s clearing—nodded at that.

Keith, who was standing next to the group’s leader, approached us then. He must’ve been drawn by our conversation.

“The guild in Khrasiel is pulling in a ton of people too. The news that it’s a fast way to get some quick cash is spreading like wildfire,” he said, joining our chat.

“Are you also planning on working for them, Keith?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I ain’t cut out for dealing with other people unless it’s to knock some bandit’s lights out. Being an adventurer means being a champion for the li’l guys. But I’m far better suited for guarding caravans and killing monsters.”

“But doesn’t the guild conscript anyone who’s highly skilled in combat during a state of emergency?” asked the merchant.

“Oh, about that—conscription is handled on a branch-to-branch basis, so as long as you avoid the ones that are pulling people in, it’s smooth sailing,” Keith replied. Then, he looked at me as if he remembered something. “Didn’t you say you were an adventurer, Arowa?”

“Not at all.”

“I see. That’s a shame; if you were an adventurer too, we could keep in contact with letters through the guild—” He stopped mid-sentence, eyeing Wal. “Er, I’m just talking about letters, Al. You know, if we happen to run into each other again somewhere...”

“We’ll certainly meet again, should fate will it,” I said, giving Keith a smile as he tried to placate Wal, who was standing behind me.

A moment of surprise flitted across the red-haired man’s face. He quietly nodded. “Ah, this is about the beard, huh...”

Wal spoke up then, cutting off any further chatter with Keith. “I’ve finished getting ready to head out, so we should start on our way,” he said, clearly directing this comment to me. His heavy pack was nestled over his shoulders and included one half of the tent, which now sat neatly fastened to the rest of his load.

“Right,” I agreed as I slung my own pack over my shoulders. We needed to get some distance away from the caravan so I could shove all this stuff back into my Pocket Dimension, after all.

I had told the caravan we were heading north, but in truth, we would be going farther east. We were still in the middle of our massive detour from Helenna as we pushed onward in a counterclockwise fashion around the area of conflict. Eventually, we would have to adjust our trajectory and head north instead of continuing northeast.

Our current goal was to reach the coordinates of 03:05. There, splitting the northern half of the Central Nations into eastern and western halves, was an enormous ridge known as the Dragon’s Jaw.

Towering over that sky-high and jagged mountain line was a citadel known as Syrrin, as well as the city that had formed around it at the base of the mountains, Alsyrrin. Together, they comprised a strategic, key location over the local geography.

Waving to the caravan of merchants as we shouted our farewells, Wal and I set forth from the rest area to continue our journey.

73. A Forced Event

The seasons shifted, and it was now early summer.

Wal and I were making steady progress eastward. The Central Nations were meant for beginner players at the start of their journeys, so outside of some fixed locations, the monsters here weren’t particularly strong.

To be perfectly honest, monsters weren’t our problem. Instead, we needed to be on the alert for enemy transmigrators—or anyone from the adventurer’s guild, really.

Large towns were dangerous—they could be host to a guild branch, which in turn would have wanted posters, putting adventurers on the lookout.

As a result, we avoided populated areas as much as we could as we continued our trek.

My Pocket Dimension was a lifesaver, and so was all of the stuff I’d squirreled away in it. Thankfully, we hadn’t needed to restock our supplies.

We decided to cross through a mountain pass by traveling through the woods alongside the highway. That way, we could see the road while still avoiding it.

Jump wouldn’t be an option in the thick brush of this forest. I wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of threading through the foliage, but at least it would level the playing field for our enemies as well.

In other words, the threat of encountering guild adventurers while doing this was low.

I was left in awe of the forest’s towering trees. Their massive roots created natural walls as they crept along the ground. These roots were perfect for warding off the wind, so we decided to camp between a pair of them.

With our tent set up, it was time for a good night’s rest.

Because our tent needed space for the hidden rooms inside it, it unfortunately required a wide, open space to deploy. While it looked like a single tent at a glance, the amount of space inside its rooms was really mysterious.

Maybe my tent was like this because the natural laws of this world followed the rules of Golden Dawn. So basically, despite how it looked on the outside, it still required three tents’ worth of space to set up. And we’d never find a clearing that wide in these woods.

Oh well. Camping out the same way we used to every now and then wasn’t a bad idea either.

Under the thick canopy overhead, the daylight faded into darkness much earlier than it had on the plains. Tonight was a new moon, so the gloom had fallen even sooner.

We’d already finished our dinner. To pass the long hours of the night, I sat by the campfire and withdrew materials from my storage to make a bow. It was just in my nature as a crafter.

Wal, who was sitting nearby, was focused on completing his daily mission to fill the light orb with MP.

I had increased the number of light orbs he needed to fill—his maximum MP capacity was growing well. One time, when I had requested that he remove the Royal Diadem for me to appraise him, I had found that his capacity for MP had reached the threshold of B-tier.

Once an NPC mastered B-tier—the highest level they could naturally attain—they would be able to use Jump with the assistance of tier-boosting equipment. The road to mastering it was long, however, so I wanted him to continue with his training.

As an aside, the reason I had specified that he master B-tier was that the average B-tier capacity for MP wasn’t enough to even perform Jump at all. He might be just about able to use it once.

Since Jump only became available for use for those with a magic proficiency of A-tier, the MP requirement wasn’t at all surprising.

He would almost certainly need to supplement his MP with potions if he needed to perform a string of Jumps one after another. But I could handle crafting those.

Need performance-enhancing potions to cheat the system? Leave it to me!

“Kariya, could you give me a new orb?”

As the light orb was now filled, Wal unfastened it from the chain looped around his left wrist and held it out to me.

Taking the proffered orb, I deposited it into my storage as it rested in my cupped hand. Then, uncurling my fingers, I manifested a different, empty light orb onto my palm.

Wal took the new one from me. “Thanks,” he said with a smile.

As he did so, I found my eyes drawn to his fingertips.

A memory came unbidden to my mind. One of fair, delicate fingers that were graceful and ladylike, clasping a small light orb enclosed within a glass case.

Now, the hand that had reached out to me was smudged with dirt and covered in countless tiny nicks and scratches. No trace remained of the silky-soft skin that had once been so well maintained—skin that’d been perfect and expected of a cloistered princess.

A little over five months had passed since we had left Tachyrinn.

The prince had changed in many ways. His palms had become calloused from the coming and going of many blisters. While his complexion still retained a measure of fairness, it was now markedly tanned. Supple muscle rippled beneath. And not only had his fingers changed, but so had his entire physique. He’d even grown taller.

But maybe this was the self-evident proof of his single-minded devotion to training after we’d escaped from Tachyrinn. Though he came from a long line of mages, he still trained his physical combat abilities as well. My running theory about his dedication to it was that even mages needed to be physically strong.

“Um, Kariya?” Wal tilted his head in mild confusion when he noticed my gaze.

Hmm...

He was as cute as ever, but compared to before, his dignified composure was becoming more and more regal by the day.

Wow. It’s amazing what a growth spurt can do to people.

He’d matured so much. I felt that calling him a handsome young man was more accurate now than anything—he was no longer a boy.

With his hair cut short, I doubted anyone would ever mistake him for a girl from now on. And no matter how much dirt and filth he might be covered in, it would never fully obscure his refined elegance. Royalty sure was amazing.

Prince Wald smiled radiantly.

In the dark of this moonless night, the red of the campfire reflected in his emerald eyes.

“It’s nothing,” I finally replied.

Then, at that moment...the campfire light in his eyes flickered and vanished.

There had been no wind to snuff out the fire—no wind rustled the boughs of the great trees above us.

All sounds had vanished from the forest. Even the usual chitter of animals was gone.

Then, after the fire had been extinguished and our surroundings had been plunged into an inky darkness, a dim, pallid glow began to fill the forest.

No, wait. A fog was beginning to roll in.

White mist approached us from far in the distance. It suffocated all the sounds of the forest as it crept closer.

Grabbing his pack from where he’d left it sitting next to him, Wal thrust it at me. He drew his sword from its scabbard, his grip tight around its hilt.

He wasn’t preparing to stand his ground and fight, however. He was only playing the part of a decoy, buying time for me to throw everything together and get ready to Jump.

As a rule, we prioritized escape. Our ultimate goal was to return to our homeland, not to win battles.

We hadn’t been attacked by other transmigrators yet, but we wouldn’t take any risks where monsters were concerned. As soon as we knew one was on our trail, we would clear out immediately.

So as long as Wal remained close at hand, we’d be fine. But I was still relieved that he could hold off an enemy.

Hold on... Huh?

Wal’s blade shone with a cold, whitish-blue light.

Although I was a non-metal craftsman, there were still two types of metals I could handle without issue: silver and mythril. The latter was also known as “saint’s silver.”

Because the prince had lost his sword during our escape from Tachyrinn, I had given him my military-issue sword after I’d reinforced it with mythril.

Now, the saint’s silver blade was shining blue.

“Spirits of the dead are coming,” I warned Wal.

Mythril only glowed this way when it detected the presence of creatures hailing from the Realm of the Dead.

“Kariya, we’re surrounded by the mists. Does that mean the world’s connected to another realm—to the one of the dead?” he asked.

I cast my gaze at the protective barrier around our camp. Its usual glow, active whenever the barrier was erected and functioning, had faded.

Somehow, the protective barrier had been neutralized.

We had to Jump.

It was a split-second decision. I couldn’t hesitate just because night had fallen or because we were in the middle of the woods.

Tossing everything into my storage, I grabbed Wal’s arm as he vigilantly surveyed our surroundings.

But the moment I attempted to Jump, that mysterious voice I’d heard before echoed in my mind.

Leaving the area will cancel your participation in the event.

Will you proceed?

My surprise got the better of me. “Is this a forced event?!”

“Kariya?!” Wal yelped my name in response to my open bewilderment.

I had heard a system message I remembered from Golden Dawn. Remnants of the game’s support system had been replicated in this world in the form of a divine voice that I had just heard.

The faint mist thickened.

Think, damn it!

The mist connected us to another realm, and the voice had described our situation as an “event.”

That meant our current circumstances weren’t something that I had triggered, not even by accident. This was an event that was guaranteed to occur once all the requirements for it to activate had been met.

The white mist.

An event that would end if I teleported.

The location was probably irrelevant. We were in one of many unnamed forests with towering trees in the beginner areas of the Central Nations.

Was it the season? It was early summer. Monsoon season. And if this were a realm merger with the Realm of the Dead, the monsters we’d encounter would be ghosts.

Only consecrated weapons or holy magic could defeat spirits. Since I had been a non-metal crafter in Golden Dawn, this wasn’t an event I would have ever encountered.

“Is something wrong, Kariya?”

Still tightly clutching his sword, Wal looked at me. The depth of his concern was clear in his eyes.

That was when I realized something.

This wasn’t my event. It was his.

In Golden Dawn, some events could be triggered by NPCs, who would then be the central figure in them...and that was exactly the type of situation we’d found ourselves in now.

This particular event occurred in the early summer—“around the summer solstice, on the night of a new moon.” It wouldn’t trigger in towns or villages as it required being “in a place with no others, surrounded by nature,” and it would revolve around “an NPC who lost a family member or loved one within the past year.”

From within the white fog, the spirits of the dead would steal the faces and voices of the dearly departed and try to deceive the NPC into joining them in the Realm of the Dead. To win the event, players had to prevent that from happening. And if anyone tried to Jump away, the system would issue a warning.

Because this was an NPC-centric event, I couldn’t simply grab the star of the show and bail. If I did, the only one to escape would be me.

The forsaken living would be damned, dragged down to the underworld.

74. The Procession of the Dead

In the game, this event had been called the “Procession of the Dead.”

The objective was to protect the designated NPC through the night from a horde of ghosts hailing from the Realm of the Dead.

Because the requirements to trigger the event were actually hard to meet, it didn’t happen often. But even so, there were strats for it, and it was a simple event overall...or at least, it had been in my old life.

If a player found the event too annoying to bother with, they could just log out or Jump away so they didn’t have to participate. But doing so would cause the event to fail, and the NPC would be taken to the underworld as a result. Regardless, failing the event wouldn’t impose any penalties on the player—the event would simply end with one less NPC in the world.

And right now, in this game world that had come to life, this event was trying to take Wal. After all, he’d lost both his father and brother this year.

“Hey, you! Sheathe your sword and give it to me—and all of your other equipment while you’re at it!”

As I urged him to hurry, I manifested a cloak from my Pocket Dimension. Silver thread had been interwoven into the fabric of this one. When I was making it, I had been dirt-poor without a single gold to my name. I couldn’t afford to buy materials for crafting and had gathered them by hand...but quarrying was definitely not my forte. I hadn’t been able to collect enough silver ore to craft everything I’d wanted, so in the end, I’d only been able to weave one piece of spirit-warding fabric.

Wal frowned, feeling uncertain about my directions, but he followed them regardless. He handed me his sheathed sword, as well as the knife he usually kept at his hip.

I shut them away in my storage, then unfolded the cloak and spread it wide open on the ground.

“What’s going on, Kariya?” Wal asked. A hint of nervousness was creeping into his voice.

“Have you heard of something called the ‘Procession of the Dead’?” I replied. “Well, we’ve run into it. Spirits of the dead are hidden in the fog. They’re coming.”

Wal’s eyes shot wide open—evidently, he’d heard all about it. This event must’ve been passed down as a legend or folk tale regarding the Realm of the Dead.

“Looks like you have,” I said. “The spirits are planning on dragging you with them to the underworld. Sorry, but I’m not skilled enough to fight them off all night, and I don’t have any sanctified weapons either. I don’t even know a single holy spell that would send them back to hell. But this silver cloak will make us invisible to them, and that’s how we’re gonna make it through the night.”

“A-All right.”

I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to resist their attempts to confuse you, but make sure you never tell them your name, even if they ask. If they know your name, they’ll take your soul.

I planned on wrapping the cloak around both of us, which would completely shield us from the coming threat. The phantoms wouldn’t be able to touch us if we hid under it because of the silver woven into the fabric.

“We’ll have to spend the night like this until dawn breaks,” I explained.

In other words, we had no avenue of escape.

Wal nodded back, his face blanched.

“Sorry, Kariya,” he whispered. “I got you caught up in this mess too, even though I’m the one who lost my family.” No sooner had he finished speaking than he gasped. “Oh! I said your name...”

“That’s okay, you don’t need to worry about me. I lost my family long ago.” I paused there and assessed the thickening mist. “But it looks like they’re almost here. Promise me you won’t leave the cloak. They’ll call to you and try to lure you out, but don’t leave.”

In the depths of the roiling fog, I could make out countless figures in the gloom. They cried out, their hissing and whispering disjointed and ethereal. The sound of their voices rang hollow.

These were their grieving calls to the living—the whispered invitations of the damned.

“Hurry, over here!” I urged.

I asked Wal to lie down on the cloak, and then I lay face down on top of him. After that, I grasped the ends of the fabric to roll us up under its safe confines.

To ensure that we still had an ample supply of air, I thrust several silver pipes out the end. Thanks to that, it wasn’t hard to breathe at all.

I shifted my body a bit to the side so that we both lay against each other on the ground, and I wrapped my arms tightly around him. If we were to face each other directly, breathing would be made all the more difficult, so he turned his head so that his breath fell on my shoulder instead.

“This isn’t too hard on you, is it?” I asked.

He didn’t respond right away, but then I caught a small whisper of a reply. “May I speak?”

I reassured him. “Yeah, we can talk,” I said. “They can’t see us now, but they already know we’re here. They’ll spend all night trying to lure you out, which is why I’m holding you like this—it’s to keep you from moving. I’m going to wrap my legs around you too, so let me know if it hurts.”

He nodded his assent, so I lifted my leg to straddle his.

Because he still wore the Royal Diadem, I doubted the phantoms could confuse him. The reason I had asked him to remove his weapons was just in case he was prompted to attack me. But I still had to keep him pressed down against the ground, unable to get up—that way, he wouldn’t be able to move, even if he wanted to.

The ghosts’ wails became louder as they approached. Their cries filtered through the fabric from the other side.

They sounded like they were calling a name in search of someone, but their cries were just that—sounds. Their actual words were vague and unclear.

These weren’t really the souls of the dead. Ghosts like these pried into the memories of the living and made use of what they found. Taking advantage of that knowledge, they would manipulate people who desired to see their departed family once more by mimicking the voices of the deceased to call the living to their side.

“It’ll be okay,” I said, trying to reassure Wal. “They can’t touch us through this silver cloak.”

I lowered my face and pressed my forehead against his head. He shifted slightly to gently wrap his own arms around my back.

Our defeat at Croway Plains had been less than six months ago. I knew that he still wept in his sleep, crying out for his father and brother.

It hasn’t even been half a year since then. Not even six whole months.

“My son,” a voice rattled. “Are you not there, my son?”

Wal started with a jolt, trembling.

A frigid presence was towering over us.

A younger voice rang out, its source much nearer...as though the speaker had crouched down next to us to speak.

“Ah, so he is here. My brother is here, father,” the second voice said.

The shaking within my arms grew stronger.

I remembered these voices from the one time Nadar had introduced me to them.

“Father...” Wal whispered. “Brother...”

Don’t listen to them! I tried to shout.

But no sound escaped my throat.

Some sort of interference was at work here in this white fog. My arms were still wrapped around Wal, but I couldn’t move them. If he were to try to push me away, he’d easily break out of my hold.

“It really is you. Come, my son, and join us,” the older voice rasped.

“Come, brother. Father is giving you an invitation,” the youthful voice called.

Wal remained silent for a bit as he shook in my arms. But not long after they spoke, Wal managed to whisper a reply. “My beloved father, brother... If I truly am your son, your brother, then please... Call my name...”

We were now one step closer to safely completing this event.

This was a method to drive the phantoms back that’d been passed down with the legend.

The spirits from the otherworldly realm didn’t know the name of their prey. As long as we didn’t tell them, they wouldn’t be able to use that key bit of information.

And the fact that these apparitions had no knowledge of his name was proof that they were not truly his family.

Wal’s voice quivered as he pressed them once more. “Please, father, brother... Call my name.”

The reedy voice hissed in frustration. “Ah, how vexing...”

“Damn you...” snarled the other.

With their voices laden with anger and resentment, the phantoms left us.

The sounds of wailing faded into the distance until they melted indistinguishably into the other ghostly whispers.

Like the lapping of quiet waves against the shore of a lake, the murmuring shifted back and forth, sometimes near, sometimes far. But it was unending.

Despite the continuing sounds, I knew the immediate threat had faded.

Wal had answered their urging correctly, thereby successfully completing that part of the event.

All that was left now was for us to stay hidden until dawn.

The prince slowly buried his face in the crook of my neck. “I knew it,” he eventually murmured. “They really are dead.”

He must’ve been hoping that they had survived.

I closed my eyes as I listened to him talk more. His voice was unsteady, wracked with sobs.

He hadn’t seen their corpses.

He hadn’t seen the glow of their names fade from the Right of Rule.

He hadn’t gotten to say goodbye.

Maybe that was why he couldn’t believe they had truly passed away. He had chosen to place his faith in the tiniest sliver of hope. But in his heart of hearts, he must have known the truth—that his father and brother had died.

These specters had the capacity to mimic the voices and faces of others, but their abilities were limited to only copying those of the deceased. This event had proved they were no longer in this world.

The invisible fetters that’d had me bound vanished, leaving me free to move once more. I squeezed the young man tight in my arms.

The prince pressed his face firmly against my shoulder. He began to wail, letting choking sobs tumble forth from his trembling throat and spill out his lips.

I’m sorry. I should have given you an opportunity to cry, to properly mourn the passing of your family, from the bottom of your heart.

I cradled the weeping young man in my arms until sunlight filtered down through the canopy of trees standing sentinel and the wind began to whistle past their branches. It was only then that the long night had finally given way to the dawn.

As morning came, I heard him say...

“Kariya, I love you.”

To be continued.

Short Story: The Day Tariyth Fell

The news had come as a bolt from the blue.

A young woman—a transmigrator—had taken her own life in Tariyth, a city of no small importance in the eastern reaches of Tiuccia.

This incident, which would later become known as the tragedy at Tariyth, marked the beginning of the end.

***

The king of Tiuccia had been a guest in far-off Raghion at the time. When he heard that this woman, whose name he hadn’t even known, had died, he could only stare at the messenger in shock as the teacup slipped from his fingers.

A sharp noise filled the room—the cup had hit the ground and shattered. Its contents were spreading out across the floor.

The news had come from his brother, the prince who was serving as regent while he was away on his six-month ambassador visit to Raghion. The victim was a woman his brother fancied, and he had been considering taking her as his second wife.

One of the king’s sons, the Fourth Prince, had been admitted to a Raghion institute of learning. The king’s current goodwill visit had coincided with that.

The king had been planning on chatting with his brother about his blossoming love once he returned home to Tiuccia. The royal family had been overjoyed at the prospect that the king’s brother might remarry.

Seeing as the elderly transmigrator who had been friends with the previous king had recently passed away, Tiuccia needed to deepen its ties with the transmigrators further.

Transmigrators were people who had previously lived and died in another world known as “Japan,” a place different from this world of Golden Dawn. They had a strong sense of camaraderie toward each other.

And they protected the women among their number fiercely.

If a woman’s chastity were to be stolen from her or if she were otherwise harmed, the organization known as the adventurer’s guild would bring its full force to bear and exact crushing vengeance on the offender.

That was a truth the world had come to know when the guild had attacked the Yuliana Empire, a nation that had once existed in the Central Nations. They had brought about its ruin as a result.

The floor, with tiles laid out in a geometric pattern, was now littered with scattered bits of the teacup.

The king had been taking tea at a resplendent villa his retinue had rented for the duration of his stay in the region of Sarawit. It offered a gorgeous view and had a garden, which he had been enjoying until moments prior.

But now, his once-peaceful countenance was frozen in horror, and he merely sat there, unmoving.

The first to recover from the shock was Nadar, a man who had accompanied the king on this goodwill visit as part of his retinue. He approached the king and, placing a hand on his shoulder, shook his liege.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” he yelled.

The king was still paralyzed.

Nadar furrowed his brows.

He knew just as well how the king felt—Tiuccia would soon feel the wrath of the transmigrators. But without orders from His Majesty, Nadar and his men had their hands tied.

“Alois! Get a hold of yourself!” Nadar barked tersely.

The king and Nadar had a deep bond—they had trained in swordsmanship under the same master. A sharp rebuke from his best friend brought the king back to his senses.

Meeting Nadar’s eyes, the king nodded. Then, he looked to the knight who had brought this message.

“I suppose there’s no mistake, then...”

The missive had been delivered to the villa by way of crystal ball transmission from Alraghion.

Now that he had the king’s proper attention, the knight launched into the detailed report that had been sent from Tiuccia. As he read the messages aloud, several more reports were brought to the garden. These, too, had been delivered through simple crystal balls installed at the villa.

Nadar gazed out at the scenery he had been enjoying from the villa’s garden once more.

From their high vantage point, they had a sweeping view of the massive lake below. Surrounding it were hot desert dunes, and ashen clouds floated far above the water. Pouring rain cascaded down from those clouds in a ceaseless waterfall, which was aptly named the Great Falls.

The roar of the water crashing into the basin below ordinarily would have rendered all conversation impossible, but a noise-dampening barrier had been erected around the lake to dramatically reduce its thunder.

A similar barrier had been set up around this villa as well, and no outside noise could penetrate the space. That wasn’t its only function, however, as it likewise prevented those on the outside from eavesdropping on conversations held within. Regardless, Nadar considered ushering the king back inside the building. Best not to take any risks, he supposed.

As he moved to do so, he noticed his right-hand adjutant approaching them. This was strange, as that man should’ve been attending to duties inside the manor.

“What happened, Gwyn?” asked Nadar, alarmed.

Gwyn didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. “The portal connecting Sarawit to Alraghion has stopped functioning.”

Nadar’s heavy-lidded eyes often made him look sleepy—and, consequently, the butt of many jokes. However, his eyes shot wide open at Gwyn’s hushed whisper.

“Because of a technical issue? Or are Tiuccians barred from its use?” Nadar whispered back.

“They’ve completely sealed off the portal room, so I couldn’t determine the reason. The teleportation system is entirely managed by the adventurer’s guild, and it seems the technicians are merely following their directions.”

“They must be moving on Tiuccia,” Nadar spat. He glanced at the king before turning his attention back to Gwyn. “Have there been any signs of soldiers near the villa?”

“They still appear to be gathering their numbers, but I expect we’ll be under siege within half a day.”

“We can’t leave via portal, but we can use the waterways from the lake to Alraghion. Requisition the fastest ship available immediately; we’re getting out of Sarawit,” Nadar said. “Get a move on before we’re stuck here!”

“Understood. Shall I procure it in the name of the Master of Blades rather than Tiuccia?”

“Do it. The guild won’t try to interfere with us.”

Nadar, Master of Blades.

He knew the power of his title intimately.

Transmigrators who followed the path of a physical combat specialist needed to participate in the Cautley coming-of-age ceremony. Should his house refuse them, the road that would lead them to greater potential would be blocked.

Nadar hadn’t intended to invoke his title for personal reasons, but Tiuccia was his homeland. He bent his knee to none other than its royal family. And right now, he had no qualms about exploiting his epithet.

He continued. “There’s a water mage by the name of Rowward in our retinue. As long as we’re on the water, he should be able to clear out obstacles in our path and fend off any pursuers.”

“I’ll fetch him and arrange for our withdrawal immediately, sir.”

The captain of the guard, who was standing nearby, bowed. Distracted by his thoughts, Nadar hadn’t even noticed him approach.

Nadar felt almost as if the man had swapped places with Gwyn, who had since disappeared. Probably to secure the ship, he mused.

“We won’t arrive for some time, but we’re taking the waterways to Alraghion,” Nadar began. “Our first priority is to rendezvous with the queen consort and crown prince. There—”

The captain of the guard interrupted him. “They’re currently taking refuge at the Tiuccian embassy. Prince Erinor has returned to the academy dormitory.”

Nadar knew at once that they were safe from the captain’s report.

Within the walls of the embassy, they were beyond the reach of Raghion’s jurisdiction. The guild could not set foot in the building without permission, so there was no fear of them detaining the queen.

As for the prince, Verdurrain’s Herald—the academy he was attending—was an autonomous institution of learning that did not permit political interference. Though Prince Erinor’s attendance at the academy could be considered a hostage situation of sorts, the school ironically provided him safe harbor, and he would not be detained by the guild.

“What about the transmigrators from Tiuccia who’d joined the delegation?” Nadar asked.

“After the girl’s—er, the news arrived, they vanished. Apparently, the victim was Sakita’s fiancée.”

Nadar couldn’t bring himself to respond. His jaw tightened as he gritted his teeth.

Sakita was an SS-tier physical combat specialist who was not very sociable. While he held a respected position of great responsibility within the transmigrator community at the adventurer’s guild and actively exercised his authority within his post, he was not proactive in any other avenues. He rarely came calling on the royal palace in Tiuccia either.

Nadar remembered that, when Sakita had been selected from among the guild transmigrators to accompany the royal delegation to Raghion on their ambassador trip, he had requested to bring his fiancée.

The woman’s rank was E-tier, Nadar had heard.

Because of her rank, her participation in the diplomatic mission had been deemed inappropriate. Finding the justification fair, Sakita had withdrawn his request. In the end, Nadar had never even met his fiancée.

How had that girl ended up throwing herself from a spire in Tariyth while her fiancé was away from home? But the details had been sparse, as what they’d learned had been through the basic-level crystal balls they’d brought into Sarawit.

“The guild’s retribution’ll be fierce,” Nadar commented.

“The woman had been carrying the prince’s child. Her name had been engraved on the Right of Rule.”

“What the hell happened in Tiuccia while we were in Raghion?”

With these doubts weighing heavily on his mind, Nadar stepped toward his liege lord.

He knew he needed to evacuate the king before Raghion’s soldiers were fully assembled. If he moved too slowly, the king would indubitably be placed under house arrest, and if that came to pass, they would be cut off from learning anything else.

The adventurer’s guild was a puppet of the Raghion Empire. It served as an arm of the empire, holding absolute power within its borders. It was vital for the king to depart the villa swiftly and join the queen consort’s delegation in Alraghion without delay.

As Nadar approached, the king turned to look at him. His face was pallid, and the blood had drained from his cheeks. The knight’s report must’ve been damning.

Nadar fixed his steady gaze on his old friend and spoke.

“Alois, I’ve got a plan.”

***

They wouldn’t have needed even half a day to reach Alraghion had they been able to travel via teleportation portal. But even with the swiftest ship they could procure, it would take ten days to arrive.

Nadar and the king of Tiuccia did not leave the cabin of the boat even once as they listened intently for fragmented reports that arrived erratically through a portable crystal ball.

Then, when they had finally closed in on Alraghion and its massive outer walls were climbing into view over the horizon of endless sand, they received a report.

The stars had rained down on Tariyth.

An SSS-tier magical attack had hit Tariyth Castle, orchestrated by high-ranking transmigrators. Stars had fallen from the heavens in a shower of light.

Several members of the royal family and their retinues had gathered at the castle to discuss their options going forward, and all of them had been swept up in the blast. Although the surrounding castle town hadn’t been damaged, the castle itself had been destroyed beyond all recognition.

The only surviving members of the Tiuccian royal family who still remained in Tiuccia were the princess consort, the First Prince, the First Princess, and the Third Prince. None of them had been in Tariyth at the time.

All other royalty and those connected to them—including their loyal vassals, security escorts, and even the manservants and maids who had worked in Tariyth Castle—had been slaughtered. Not a single person had been spared.

Far away in a distant, foreign land, Nadar could do nothing but accept this news alongside his king.