Lire

Arc#3 Chapter 60: Trial by Fire (2)

Reivan wasn't sure what time it was, but it was probably before midnight since it hadn't been that long after he'd eaten dinner.

"Phew."

Sitting cross-legged on the cold stone floor and soaked with his own sweat, Reivan struggled to stop himself from humping the space between the bars.

'Fuck! I'm so goddamn horny! I wanna have sex! Sex! Ahhhhhh!'

He now realized that the "heat" he felt earlier was not the trial that would help him unlock his qi. What he previously felt could not even compare to the intense desires filling his body right now.

The only thing that stopped him from going berserk with lust was the discipline cultivated by years of training in the martial arts, and his education as a member of the royal family.

Sadly, sheer willpower could not possibly let him hold on for long.

"Goddamnit." Reivan cursed out loud despite himself. While keeping his back turned from the entrance, he did his best to cover his raging erection. But every attempt to do so failed immediately since his shackles would stop him whenever he tried; almost as if the shackles and his crotch were magnets with alike poles, a repelling force would push them away.

No matter how much he tried to conceal — or even adjust — the embarrassing physiological phenomenon, his hands felt nothing but air.

"You seem to be having a hard time, Your Highness," Criston called out from behind him with a gentle voice filled with pity and sympathy. "Perhaps conversation will help?"

"Thank you for your sentiments, Sir Criston." Reivan glanced back with a strained smile, inwardly glad he felt nothing for the man. "But I would like to focus on keeping my sanity for now."

"Understood."

Reivan returned to his original position, allowing him to fill his sight with nothing but a wall.

'Emptiness. I am emptiness...'

The wall was made of pure stone. It was hard and cold. Surprisingly clean too.

There was absolutely nothing erotic about it.

But over time, it was like a blank canvas that gradually got filled with images of pretty women with skimpy outfits while dancing and doing lewd TikTok trends.

It was bearable for a time since he was somewhat used to scrolling past them with minimal attention back then, but soon enough, the women started looking very similar to Aila, the woman he met at the Serpent's Haven. Sometimes, the girls even resembled a certain red-haired bombshell that he knew...

'Fuck!'

He never expected his past life to haunt him in this way. It may have been easier to get through this trial if he was an ignorant pre-pubescent boy who knew nothing about those types of things.

But him?

Obviously, he had looked up some lewd photos on the internet like every other teenager with access to the internet. So unlike most boys in this world — who, at most, only had their fantasies of the nearest pretty woman they knew — Reivan had tons of reference materials.

Personally knowing a ridiculously gorgeous woman like Elsamina didn't help either.

'I'll get through this. I'm not some horny bastard! I am Prince Reivan of the Aizenwald royal family...!'

Reivan bit down on his lip, hoping that the pain would help him settle down.

'It feels good!?'

Unfortunately, the pain he had expected became pleasure instead.

Fearing that he might awaken to something undesirable if he continued, Reivan stopped self-inflicting pain. He took a deep breath, then began cycling the air through his lungs.

Suddenly, he was struck with inspiration; he closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the wall anymore. It worked for a time, but then images of Elsamina wearing hot pants, a bunny girl outfit, and all sorts of other erotic outfits appeared directly in his mind instead.

With no other choice, Reivan grimaced as he thought very hard about what Donovan looked like when he was naked. He'd never seen the old man with even his top off, but knew that there were well-defined muscles underneath. The old man never got sweaty during their training sessions, but perhaps adding a sheen to the baldy's skin would help...

"Phew." Reivan immediately calmed down, his mind returning to serenity. Of course, his body was still screaming for him to relieve his lust in some way, but his desires had cooled down considerably.

"You're handling all this surprisingly well." Viktor — who'd arrived without Reivan's notice — sat down next to the young man and patted him on the back. "I remember back in my time... I was already humping the floor before an hour passed!"

'Shit. That's genius... Oh wait, no it's not!'

Reivan glared at his uncle for giving him such an idea. "Go away, uncle."

Wasn't he here to help out? Why was he making things worse!?

"Relax, relax. You're too prickly." Viktor shook his head with a smile. "Though I suppose this works in your favor since any negative emotion will help."

"Really?" Reivan rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Am I supposed to thank you, then?"

"Save that for after I give you some really good advice."

'Hoh?'

"Uncle, you're the best." Reivan cheered in a monotone droll. "Really handsome and strong and all that. Please tell me this advice of yours."

Viktor wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Brat."

"Please. This is unbearable..."

He was sopping wet so his clothes were sticking to him uncomfortably, his body felt like it was burning up from the inside, and to top it all off, he had a boner that he couldn't get rid of.

'I'm pretty sure penises aren't supposed to stay erect for hours on end! I'm not some hentai character!'

With that in mind, he really wanted some sort of solution to his current predicament — a solution that wouldn't stop him from unlocking his qi after this blasted trial.

"Alright, alright. I can see you're having a hard time, so I won't delay any longer." Viktor cleared his throat and rubbed his nephew's back in consolation. "Just so you know, the reason why I didn't tell you all this from the very start is because I wanted you to have sufficient experience of this event. It's for when you have kids of your own. So don't resent me for standing back for a while."

Reivan had wondered about the same thing, so he easily accepted the logic behind Viktor's actions. "Fine. Just, please hurry. I really don't like being in heat."

"Nobody does. Everybody likes fucking but hates the heat."

"What crude language. I'll tell Mom."

"Shut up and listen." Viktor decisively switched the subject back to what was really important. "Since we're from a high-class ice-attribute bloodline, this heat actually affects us little."

"This is little...!?" Reivan bellowed in disbelief.

"Let me finish. I mean that although we experience the same heat as others, it does little to unlock our qi. It's still very helpful, of course. But we have to resort to extra measures so we can stoke the fire into an inferno that'll penetrate the ice in our bloodline."

"Don't you mean melt...?"

"No. Why would you want to melt it?" Viktor looked at him incredulously. "We just want the fire's heat to reach the qi hidden deep within ourselves. Don't melt the ice, that's what defines us, idiot."

"Uh-huh..." Reivan nodded, taking in his uncle's words while fidgeting in discomfort. "So what do we do? You mentioned aphrodisiacs earlier, but then you said we don't need those..."

"Right. Because ice-attributed bloodlines aren't prone to lust from the start, so attacking from that angle does little."

"Aren't prone to lust, huh..." Reivan thought back to his mother, who was the definition of insatiable. "You sure about that?"

Viktor's face stiffened, but he still maintained a serious look. "There are always exceptions to everything. But that's just how most in our bloodline are. Anyway, because of that, we must stoke different kinds of fires, other than the fires of lust."

"Like...?"

"Like anger. Frustration. Determination. Anything intense. If one fire can never burn bright enough within us, then we'll light multiple."

Reivan nodded in understanding. "Alright. So how do we do that?"

Viktor stood up and smiled warmly as he looked down at his nephew.

'Uh...'

But Reivan's intuition was telling him that whatever thoughts hid behind his uncle's smile weren't good news to him.

════ ⋆★★★⋆ ════

"Ah, fuck!"

Reivan cursed as his hands failed to catch a piece of steak that flew past him. He hastily tried to dive for a different one, but missed by a few inches again.

'Goddammnit!'

"You almost got it there." Viktor snickered as one of the steaks flew into his hands. He then stared into Reivan's eyes while ferally biting into it, the juices dripping everywhere. "You better hurry or else you'll won't be getting any dinner again!"

Reivan swallowed hard as he watched just how juicy that steak was, and how great it smelled. It had been two days since his uncle seriously began to help him out, and in that time he hadn't eaten a thing.

This was because to stoke the fires of determination, Viktor made Reivan work for every meal.

Sometimes, Reivan was made to run laps around the cell for an absurd amount of time without collapsing. Sometimes he would have to guess which air-locked box contained food instead of Viktor's dirty laundry. And sometimes he would have to catch the steaks flying crazily around the cell before Viktor got hungry and ate them instead — just like he was doing right now.

Obviously, Reivan had never actually succeeded.

'I swear to god. Payback's coming...'

Sure, he knew his uncle was doing all this mostly to help him out. But the guy seemed to like this a little too much, which gave Reivan the impression that his uncle found troubling him enjoyable.

This pissed him off.

"Raaaaaah!" Reivan released a warcry. Angry, horny, and hungry, he was determined to secure a meal tonight.

════ ⋆★★★⋆ ════

Viktor nodded in satisfaction while watching Reivan struggle. As expected of his nephew, there were numerous close shaves.

Unfortunately for the young lad, Viktor had no plans for Reivan to get a single ounce of food until his qi was unleashed.

Of course, he wasn't doing this out of some twisted sadistic urges. Rather, feeding Reivan now would cause "relief" and "satisfaction", which were detrimental to what they were trying to accomplish at the moment.

Viktor had to push his nephew's buttons as much as possible, just to make the process smoother.

'This is bad...'

Despite how impressed he was Viktor's mood fell with every second.

'At this rate, he might not unlock it this year.'

Viktor wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but a dimwit would have never become Aizen's knight commander. And he'd used all of his wits to think about making his nephew's awakening a success.

Despite his lack of a tail and a second pair of bestial ears, Reivan was, without a doubt, part-warbeast. Viktor had doubted this when the pup was born, but not anymore. His eldest nephew was a bit different than them, but he was family, so Viktor naturally took matters concerning him seriously.

Different.

His nephew was very different from them.

So Vikor knew that what applied to him and Vianna didn't necessarily apply to Reivan.

Reivan's uniqueness meant that what had worked for Viktor and Vianna might not apply to him. His mating season could be longer or shorter than that of normal warbeasts, leaving them with even less time. Perhaps Reivan's half-warbeast blood meant that the ice in his veins ran less cold, and the approach of lighting multiple "fires" instead of focusing on one might not be ideal for him.

Considering all of this, he was vigilant and ready to change his plans for Reivan on the fly.

'He's too clever for his own good.'

Viktor immediately identified a possible problem. He and Vianna had mostly stayed conscious and rational for their first mating seasons — albeit, consumed by overwhelming lust. But things were slightly different for those who didn't have the same bloodline as theirs.

'Assuming the ice in his veins is half of ours, there's a possibility that other clans' methods will work better for him...'

Decisively, Viktor stood up and announced, "Alright, we're trying something else." He cast one final glance at his beloved nephew before shattering space, leaving the cell behind.

════ ⋆★★★⋆ ════

As Reivan watched his uncle vanish in the blink of an eye, he couldn't help but curse.

'At least leave me some food...!'

Reivan gnashed his teeth. He felt horrible about missing out on food again, especially since it seemed like he was so close to catching one of the flying surloins.

'Shit. It smelled so good too...'

Somewhat like a dog, Reivan started furiously sniffing at the air with his eyes closed so he could focus his brain power on his nose. With nothing to eat, he only had the steaks' leftover scent to tide him over.

'So good...'

Reivan salivated at the thought. He decided that after this whole trial thing, he would treat himself to an all-you-can-eat buffet at the royal dining room — where every dish cost zero lumens for him.

Alone in a deep but surprisingly bright dungeon, Reivan sniffed repeatedly until his sensitive nose could no longer detect the scent of meat.

'It was good while it lasted.'

He was just about to go huddle in a corner while trying to keep from going insane, but suddenly, an incredibly alluring fragrance wafted into his nose, sweeping through his senses with an intoxicating allure — all while ringing alarm bells in his head.

Reivan wrenched his eyes open and gulped as he was faced with an incredibly beautiful woman with dark brown hair, cat ears atop her head, and a tail swaying lazily behind her. She wore a light brown ceremonial attire that was very similar to a kimono and also did a good job hiding the woman's curves. But strangely enough, that only made Reivan's imagination run wild.

"This humble subject greets His Highness, Prince Reivan." Chief Mikachi of the Terracatta clan dipped her head deeply as a sign of respect. After a few seconds, she straightened up and smiled at him. "I am here to help."

"H-help...?" Reivan struggled to speak, his eyes unconsciously exploring every inch of the warbeast lady's tightly wrapped body. His heart was gradually beating faster the more her womanly scent wafted into her nose.

Chief Mikachi didn't seem to mind his rudeness, however. Her seductive body passed right through the bars as if she was a mirage. But the crisp sound of her sandals against the stone and the fragrance surging to fill the room proved otherwise.

Soon enough, she was right in front of Reivan. "Yes, Your Highness. I will help you deal with this heat."

To Reivan's surprise, Chief Mikachi's kimono suddenly fell to the floor.

════ ⋆★★★⋆ ════

[Author's Note]

I've decided to take a break for a month or two.

From work, that is. I'll still be writing. lol

Reasons? Things just kinda lined up.

My job was burning me out for some time now; I've been wanting to research about and explore a career as a Freelance Content Writer / Copywriter / Ghostwriter; and I've also been wanting to clean up my earlier chapters and build up my Patreon chapters.

So, I just took the chance and fucking quit. It felt so good.

I still have some savings. Plus, running a Patreon for the past few months has somewhat helped too. So I won't go hungry even if I'm unemployed for a month or two.

During this time, maybe I'll increase my posting sched. Hopefully, this entices more people to my Patreon because honestly, the ideal outcome from this little gamble of mine is that I make at least 350$ a month on Patreon and can just write GoE full-time.

That's not plausible though. I know.

I've always wanted to see what I could achieve if I had all the time I wanted to funnel into my writing. Now I'll get to know.

And if I crash and burn, at least I'll have tried.

Seriously though, I hope this works out...

Arc#3 Chapter 59: Trial by Fire (1)

Reivan thought everything would go swimmingly but he was very wrong.

The first thing he saw when he woke up the following day was a dark, stone wall. His limbs were also weighed down by thick shackles that had glowing runes all over them. The shackles were heavy, but Reivan was no slouch when it came to strength so he could move just fine. In front of him, bars with similar runes engraved on them were placed as a barricade that prevented him from leaving wherever he was right now.

'What the hell?'

The drowsiness that usually accompanied his mornings was instantly blown away after he realized that he was locked up in a dungeon. His mana, and surprisingly, even all of his special abilities weren't obeying his commands, so he may as well be an ordinary person at the moment. The fact that Aizen even had the special techniques to seal someone's special abilities momentarily surprised him, but Reivan decided to set it aside for now.

After a moment of pondering, he soon surmised that the best way to gain information on his situation was to talk to someone — even if that person ended up being an enemy.

"Hey!" Reivan yelled as loud as he could. "Is anyone there!?"

After a brief pause, a young man with an unassuming countenance and a cascade of blonde hair peeked out from behind the bars of the cell. "Ah, you've awoken, Your Highness. Good morning!"

Reivan gradually broke into a smile when he recognized the uniform the young man was wearing. "Yes, good morning to you too, Sir Knight." He tried to sound casual to hide his relief that he didn't get abducted and imprisoned by enemies. "I don't know why I'm here or how I got here, but could you please free me and let me out of this place?"

The knight seemed troubled, dipping his head in apology. "I would absolutely love to do that, but I am under orders from Queen Vianna and the Supremo to keep you here. I'm very sorry, Your Highness."

'Mother and Uncle...?'

"If it's their command, there's no need for you to apologize, " Reivan assured the knight, who was merely doing his job. "Well, this is all still quite troublesome though. What's your name, by the way."

"Forgive my late introduction. This loyal sword is named Criston." The knight — Criston — performed a crisp salute and then asked in a concerned tone. "Your Highness, you've just woken up so I assume you're quite hungry...?"

"I am, actually. Would you mind helping with that?"

"Not at all! Please wait right here."

Reivan struggled not to offer a sarcastic retort and nodded. "Sure thing."

As the young knight walked off, Reivan leaned against the wall and sighed. Everything so far confirmed that he wasn't in any actual danger, so he could rest easy. Still, this entire situation was confusing and he regretted not asking the knight for details before asking for some food.

Luckily, it seemed he wouldn't have to wonder for too long.

"Hey there, brat."

With a big smile on his face, Viktor suddenly appeared in the cell despite the bars looking just as solid as it was earlier. "Been a while, huh?"

"Uncle..." Reivan looked up, his lips curling up as well. "You're back."

"Yep. Rushed back from that place as soon as I heard that you showed the signs. Your mother's here too. But traditionally, older family members of the same sex are the ones to help the kids out. S'why she's taking a back seat for now."

Sensing an opportunity for additional information, Reivan eagerly asked, "Help out with what, exactly...?"

Viktor hummed as he stared down at his nephew and chuckled. "With the trial so near, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you about it now."

"Trial?"

"I'll explain, so listen carefully." Viktor took a deep breath before continuing. "Back home, we called it the... Hmm, I just realized that there's no equivalent word in English... Guess I'll just call it the Trial of Fire for now. Anyway, kids close to your age generally have to face this trial at around the same time of the year. It's not all that hard to pass since everybody just cheats, but after succeeding, your qi is unlocked. Personally, I've never heard of anyone back home failing this."

Reivan nodded to show he understood. "So what is this trial? And why am I locked up?"

"I'll get to that, relax. Remember what I said about how everybody cheats on the trial?"

"Yeah, you just said it a few seconds ago..."

"Well, that's why you're tied up. That's basically how we cheat. The best way to pass this trial is to be semi-restrained. Those shackles are pretty darn special. You can move around this cell all you want, but there's nothing you can do to get out of it. It also has a few other restrictions, but you'll know all about that eventually."

"How annoying... Then if that's the case, why don't you just knock me out for a couple of days...?"

"That defeats the purpose of the trial in the first place. So that's out of the question unless you want to redo this whole thing next year."

Reivan watched the warbeast knight shake his head in regret before sighing. "Specifics, uncle. I need specifics."

"Awfully eager, ain't ya?" Viktor guffawed before squatting down right next to Reivan and ruffling his hair. "You wouldn't understand it even if I told you!"

Growing irritated, Reivan swatted his uncle's hand away and snapped. "Try me."

Perhaps amused by his reaction, Viktor crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. "It's your first mating season, Rein. It means you'll finally experience your first taste of the troubles that men have!"

'Mating season...?'

Reivan wasn't all that knowledgeable about animals except for dogs, but what limited information he had only told him that a mating season was not something humans had.

'But I'm part warbeast, so...'

"So, uhm..." Reivan sifted through all his knowledge about mating seasons as he asked. "Does that mean I'll want to make... babies and stuff?"

"Oh?" Viktor raised a brow and gave Reivan a side glance, a smirk on his face. "So you do have some idea. Did you read it in one of 'em books? Anyway, that's the gist of it, yeah. Around the time winter ends, most warbeasts in their early teenage years go into heat for about a week. This is the perfect catalyst for unlocking qi. Just endure that urge for some time, and if you don't mate with anyone in that time, the desire that got bottled up from restraining yourself will eventually explode, unlocking your qi."

'What the fuck. That's it?'

"Isn't it unfair that warbeasts get their qi unleashed just for something simple like that? That's so easy! I could probably do that even without all these restraints, y'know?"

"If it were that easy, nobody would cheat, you brat." Viktor chuckled while shaking his head. "You'll understand when it hits you."

Reivan sniffed in doubt and turned away from his annoying uncle. "You underestimate my discipline. At the very least, you guys shouldn't have sealed off my special abilities since it would help me stave off the heat."

"Imbecile. Did you not hear what I said about how the qi is unlocked...? Getting pent up is precisely what you have to do. Having it staved off by some special ability or medicine to calm you down would be against the point. In fact, some clans go above and beyond, letting their young ones take highly potent aphrodisiacs in tandem with the mating season so they would have a more explosive awakening, gaining a larger burst of improvement at the start."

Reivan raised a brow in curiosity. "And why aren't we doing that too?"

Viktor grimaced and stood up. "Because it's unnecessary. We're from an extremely high-class ice-attribute bloodline so we wouldn't benefit from such methods. We have our own ways of doing things — ways that don't involve using those snake oils."

Although he didn't fully understand everything, Reivan nodded and accepted the explanation for now. Basically, he would remain tied up in this dungeon until he unlocked his qi at some point, or until the mating season was over.

Hopefully, the powers that be wouldn't stop him from managing his private affairs remotely.

"Your Highness, I've returned with some food." Criston, humming a cheerful tune, carefully unlocked the door to the cell with one hand while balancing a tray of food atop the other. He then turned to the other knight in the room. "Sir Viktor. Well met."

"Hm." Viktor nodded to the newcomer. "What're you doing all the way back here? Shouldn't you be in Fort Alexander?"

Criston chuckled as he crouched down and laid the tray on the floor in front of Reivan. "I got kicked out of the front lines for grave misconduct."

"What? Really?" Viktor's eyes widened before he nodded in apparent understanding. "I suppose I wouldn't put it past you..."

The young knight's cheek twitched. "I was joking, Supremo."

"Huh?"

"I was joking. I was tasked with covertly delivering another captured esper. In fact, I'm getting a short vacation while I'm here for exemplary service! I would never commit any misconduct."

Viktor scoffed and sneered. "You mean you wouldn't get caught committing any misconduct. Anyway, if you're on break, what are you doing here?"

"I like money. And nobody pays better overtime pay than the state!"

"You really are a sack of shit, you know that?"

'They seem close.'

Reivan ate his sandwich in silence while watching the two. His first impression of Criston being just another novice knight gradually crumbled as he listened to them talk. After all, if Viktor — the strongest knight in Aizen — knew about him, then the young man must have had something special.

Unfortunately, Reivan couldn't get a close look since his shackles stopped him from using his [Supreme Insight].

"Uncle." Reivan chimed in once the two knights' conversation started dying down. "Why do I need to be in a dungeon anyway? Can't I be locked up in my room instead? Isn't it all the same where I am as long as I'm restrained?"

Viktor shook his head. "It's best that anything that could possibly be seen as a stimulus is gone. You could cause unnecessary damage to furniture. And your screams would be heard all throughout the palace. We could work around it by having knights constantly surround the place with a barrier but this method is easier and is more similar to how me and your mother did it. Traditions, and all that."

'Stimulus...? There are only pillows and furniture in my room. How could those things possibly be seen as stimuli!?'

"Anyway, just stay here quietly for a while. I'll drop by every few hours to check on you. Criston's a piece of trash but he's capable. And he's a hard worker when it counts. Don't hesitate to boss him around."

Criston grimaced at the unexpected dig but said nothing. The young knight nodded amiably to Reivan and saluted.

Reivan wanted to argue some more, but he was too hungry and he also knew that he wouldn't be able to change his uncle's mind. Also, thinking about it some more, he realized that his confinement to this dungeon likely had his father's seal of approval.

And if he approved, there likely wasn't a whole lot that Reivan could do to change the situation.

'They're being really careful about all this. It's one thing for animals, but we're intelligent creatures that go against our primal urges daily. How bad could going into heat be?'

Reivan inwardly scoffed but still prepared himself mentally for what could possibly come.

════ ⋆★★★⋆ ════

Living in the dungeon was surprisingly not that bad.

It was inconvenient since he had to do his "business" in a pot, but other than that, there were no major problems.

His body was instantly cleansed of any dirt by a water-attribute knight every few hours, books were provided for him to read as long as they remained outside the actual cell, and he even got to talk to Valter personally from time to time for the sake of task delegation.

At noon on his third day in the dungeon, he started noticing a change in his body.

'This must be the heat they were talking about...'

His forehead, arms, and even his back were soaked with a layer of sweat as his body temperature started to rise. It wasn't too bad though, just slightly uncomfortable. The real problem lay in how his head started getting heavier for some reason.

In a way, it was like having a fever.

'This is nothing.'

Reivan reclined upon the frigid dungeon floor, savoring the delight that the icy surface offered him. As his body heat gradually spread across the area, he shifted to another location, extracting the chill from it once again. This went on for a few more minutes until he eventually sapped the coldness from every part of the dungeon he could reach.

"Criston..." Reivan called out, eager to stave the boredom off with some conversation.

The blonde knight had proven to be a good chatting partner on the few occasions they talked, with numerous stories of his escapades in the front lines. Still, Reivan did not feel like he knew a lot about the man.

"Is there something wrong, Your Highness?" Criston opened his eyes. He'd been squatting in front of the cell with his back turned. Surprisingly, the knight had been meditating.

"I'm bored. Tell me about yourself."

"I love how you're just blatantly telling me to act as entertainment." Criston chuckled but then hummed in thought before answering. "My name is Criston. From a young age, I admired the knights I read about in stories and word of mouth. Soon enough, I desired to become one. So I signed up as soon as I was old enough to, worked hard as a squire for a while, and then got officially knighted when I was nineteen years old."

"Nineteen...?" Reivan sat up with some difficulty, surprise on his sweaty face. "That's pretty early, right?"

"That's what I was told." Criston nodded, smiling wryly. "Anyway, since then, I've had the pleasure of serving the crown for twenty-five years — mostly by fighting Argonian ants on the front lines. I've developed a slightly bad reputation for some youthful mistakes in the past, but all in all, I think I've done a good job."

'So he's in his forties now...? Damn. I must've really gotten acclimated to this world since I think this guy's still young.'

It couldn't be helped since he was constantly surrounded by people with three-digit ages.

"What about you, Your Highness?" Criston smirked as he took out a flask of water and took a sip. "I'm interested in you too. The order doesn't know much about you aside from your absurd number of special abilities and the fact that you're incredibly talented. What I wanna know is your hobbies. Y'know, what you go out and do with your friends. Normal person stuff like that."

"Me, huh...?" Reivan wiped the sweat off his forehead as he thought of what to say. "I don't have any hobbies at the moment. I'm busy with all sorts of things, so my free time is better-spent training or learning things."

"No hobbies? Not even something you want to try?"

"Well..." The young prince looked to the side hesitantly. "I do want to try writing, I suppose. But I barely have any ti—"

"Writing!" Criston clapped his hands, a bright look in his eyes. "What kind? Training manuals? Travel guides?"

"Fiction books, mainly. I always loved reading them. Once upon a time, that is..."

"That is wonderful, Your Highness. Everybody needs to have something other than their duties. One can work harder at life when they have something they enjoy doing."

Reivan's jaw slacked as he rubbed his chin. "I think I've heard something similar before..."

"What about friends?" Criston pressed on. "Surely you don't spend all your time training, right? Don't waste your youth!"

"Hey, I go out with friends too, y'know. With my family as well."

'Whenever they aren't too busy, of course.'

"Good, good..." Criston smiled warmly at him before chuckling. "Speaking of friends, I've heard you've been treating a pair of twins from House Mercer very well."

"Hm?" Reivan raised a brow, pressing his chains to his cheeks, finding it surprisingly cool against his skin. "Yes, I have. They're my best friends. What's it to you?"

The knight smirked. "Well, I'm kind of related to them."

"Related?"

Criston stood up and patted his butt. "I don't use my last name all that often, but my full name is Criston Mercer."

'What...?'

Reivan reflexively gazed up at the knight's bright blonde hair, then into his brown eyes. "You don't look like a Mercer."

"I'm a bastard too, Your Highness. An orphan too. Just like those twins." Criston smirked. "Unfortunately, the Mercer blood runs thin in my veins, so I don't share their signature colors or inherently good looks. Anyway, it's about time for lunch so I'll have something fixed up for you to eat. Be right back. I'll just be really close by though, so just shout if you need me. I could even do a little jig to keep you entertained!"

As he watched the knight disappear from his sight, Reivan closed his eyes and struggled against the dizziness that was gradually growing worse by the second, especially after his conversation partner decided to up and leave.

'Damn. If this is what a hangover feels like, I now have one more reason to drink moderately.'

The first day of going into heat had only just begun, and Reivan wasn't impressed with how underwhelming it was.

A few hours later though, he finally realized how wrong he was for thinking so.

Arc#3 Chapter 58: Distant Storms

The Spirit Tower of Arkhan.

For the common folk, the Magitechnocratic Republic of Arkhan was a nation primarily "ruled" by the president, along with a few other officials who were chosen through elections. The Sage King — the only Transcendent tied to the republic — was a good-natured and enigmatic guardian that would sally forth to vanquish the republic's enemies should the need arise.

But the reality was quite different.

In truth, the government and the tower were two separate organizations with different goals and motivations: the government naturally prioritized its continued existence and relevance, while the tower wanted to advance magitechnology and push the limits of sorcery.

Certainly, the Sage King appeared to hold a subtle fondness for his homeland, which is why the tower remained cooperative with the republic. Even though the other two nations on the continent could have been better sponsors for research and development.

However, this small favor did not mean the tower was subservient to the republic. Rather, the state constantly curried favor with the tower to ensure its aid in various matters. At the moment, the tower also serves as a research institute and an academy that produces new technology and fresh combat mages for the state to utilize in matters of national defense.

Rooting out underground organizations definitely wasn't on the list of tasks the tower usually undertook.

'How troubling...'

Reivan massaged his temples while contemplating his dilemma. Profit was one of the reasons he established Ouroboros, but that was for himself. To be of use to the nation his family ruled over, Reivan also wanted the organization to serve as his foothold in the republic as well as a source of information.

Its fate was obviously very relevant to him.

"Elsa."

"Yes, my master?" Elsamina kept her hands on her lap, maintaining a business-like demeanor.

"This is not some lie so I will allow you to prolong your stay here, right?"

The lack of notification was already a bad sign, but the beautiful woman's denial further exacerbated this. "I'm serious about this, my master. You may confirm this with Xanthus himself. If he wasn't so busy, that is. But he told me that this would be enough to explain things."

Reivan looked down as Elsamina slid something over the table. It was a cylindrical container the length and thickness of an adult's pinky finger. Knowing what it was, Reivan popped the lid and took out the small piece of paper inside while willing his thoughts into the container — which was actually a modified communication crystal that carried a recording of Xanthus' real report.

While pretending to peruse the small words on the tiny slip of paper, his mind was injected with a surge of information.

'Fuck. It's true.'

Communication with spies was better kept at a minimum, but now that they were linked by Ouroboros, Reivan could obtain more frequent reports by using the organization as a medium.

'The empire and the republic are starting to mend their ties, huh?'

In the report, Xanthus had told him information that even Elsamina wasn't aware of — and likely never be aware of.

According to Xanthus' investigations, the empire's recent focus on Aizen alleviated the pressure on the republic, creating enough room for some diplomacy.

And it had gone very well, to the extent that a long-term ceasefire agreement was in the works. The empire was also sending over some of their princes and princesses to attend the tower's academy — likely as hostages in case the empire violated their ceasefire.

And in exchange, the republic would turn a blind eye to some of their surface-level secrets leaking to the empire through those princes and princesses.

Who exactly was profiting the most was debatable. On one hand, the republic would be getting a much-needed reprieve from the war with Argonia. With Arkhan being on the back foot for decades due to recent imperial innovations in anti-magic, a decade or two of rest was a godsend.

On the other hand, the Argonia Empire could gain insight into just how Arkhan consistently produced spirit beasts for their mages to bond with. Of course, it remained to be seen whether the empire could replicate whatever the republic was doing even if they did know how it was done.

'What a mess.'

However, this brought dire tidings for Aizen. Their foremost desire was to uphold the status quo in Sentorale, as they awaited the emergence of their second Transcendent or the resolution of the issue with the gate to The Outlands.

'I must immediately tell Father of this... or rather, he must already know.'

It didn't hurt to be sure, so he telepathically instructed Valter to get in contact with his Father while he wrapped things up with Elsamina.

"So that's how it is." Reivan nodded and disintegrated the piece of paper with his magic power. He then stowed the container in his storage ring. "Thank you for bringing this to me as fast as possible."

"Of course." Elsamina bowed while still seated. "The information reached me just a few days ago. In fact, overseeing the success of The Serpent's Haven is a minor part of my decision to stay in Aizen — the tower's crackdown is the main reason."

"Understandably so. You would get in the way of Xanthus' work if you stayed there since he'd have another person to protect."

'Fuck. Just when I thought everything was going well...'

Elsamina leaned forward slightly and asked with trepidation. "So I can stay...?"

Reivan waved off her concern and nodded. "Of course. Don't leave until the heat has died down for months."

"Thank you very much!"

"Just make sure you pay extra attention to the management of our underground businesses there. It would be a waste if we lost them. I understand this will be very troublesome to do remotely but I will have to count on you for this."

"Understood. You have nothing to worry about since I've made sure there are no links to Ouroboros and our legal businesses. Xanthus is already facilitating our flight from the capital as we speak — which is coincidentally why he couldn't report it to you himself. Please forgive him."

"I was never angry." Reivan took a sip of wine and hoped getting tipsy would wash the problems away. Unfortunately, it seemed he had incredibly high alcohol tolerance and the expensive drink may as well have been tap water. "And Greyviel?"

Elsamina smiled wickedly. "We are prepared to cut him off at a moment's notice. As is, he is the most likely to be caught since plenty of the officials he sells weapons to have been taken in for questioning."

"Good, good."

'If need be, we can just give up a number of our illegal businesses and say that Greyviel was the mastermind. The old merchant can't say otherwise because of the slave pellet I had him swallow.'

Greyviel likely knew this too, and wouldn't betray him. After all, if the tower caught him, that was it. He'd go to prison for life. Maybe suffer the death sentence instead.

But if he betrayed Ouroboros, Reivan — or rather, Ken — had made sure to make the old merchant aware that his progeny would not be safe.

'Well, not that I really intended to go along with that... not if he dies, anyway.'

There would be no merit in getting revenge on a dead person by going after his family. Unless it would serve as a bad example for his subordinates, of course. But only the higher-ups of Ouroboros knew that Greyviel was a part of the organization, so punishing Greyviel to that extent was truly pointless.

If the old man wasn't executed and just imprisoned though, then Reivan would likely be forced to resort to drastic punishment for betrayal.

"If that's all, then I must go now." Reivan pushed off his chair and stowed it back into his ring.

"Ah, wait." Elsamina also stood up, slightly alarmed. "Can you not stay for a bit longer? I'm sure this place can offer plenty of hospitality."

"No. I don't have the time to waste." Reivan replied with a cold shake of his head. As he started to turn around, a glimpse of the woman's countenance caught his attention, making him realize that he might have been overly harsh in his dismissal. "I'll come to visit again sometime. When it's not too crowded and I'm not too busy. I'll also prepare some information and materials that could be helpful."

"Yes." Elsamina immediately brightened up, her silky red hair shining against the room's dim lighting. "I'll look forward to it."

"Right. You do that. I'll see you in a bit."

With that over with, Reivan walked briskly out of the room.

════ ⋆★★★⋆ ════

"Father!"

Reivan burst through the doors of the king's office.

Rodin's weary sigh drifted over from behind a tall stack of papers. "Son, stop being so loud this late at night."

Ignoring his father's words, Reivan placed his hands on the table and spoke quickly. "You've heard, yes? What do we do about this?"

Rodin sighed, pushing a stack of paper to the side to get a better view of his son. The dark bags under his eyes spoke well of how little sleep he'd been getting, but the king's voice was just as clear and firm as usual.

"You don't need to worry about that since we've known about this possibility for a long time. There is a faction of republican bureaucrats that are pro-peace when it comes to the empire, and have been lobbying the idea of a ceasefire agreement for years."

"And they finally succeeded, huh?"

"Not at all. It's more like the empire just decided to put more focus on us, and that faction coincidentally provided a convenient way to help with that."

"And what are we going to do about that, Father?"

"For now...? Well, why don't you sit down first?"

Reivan frowned but still obeyed, moving to sit down on one of the couches.

"Oof, my back..." Rodin stood up from his seat behind the desk and moved to the couch opposite Reivan's, apparently intending to take a short break. "Tea, son. I'd love some."

"Of course."

With a snap of his fingers, some cups and a pot of water appeared on the table between them. Reivan then remotely prepared some fresh tea using ingredients from his ring and his [Formless Will].

While waiting, he pressed his father again. "So?"

"So what?" Rodin shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back against the soft couch and seemingly melting into it as a smile of bliss crossed his face. "Is there a problem?"

"I'd like to think so, yeah. Is this not a huge problem for us?"

"You're too anxious, son. It's not as if this has never happened before. From time to time, Argonia's border nobles get mad about our constant harassment during harvest season. So they press the current emperor to "teach the kingdom a lesson" or something along those lines. Something like this happened about thirty years ago. Then another time twenty years before that. It's a tradition at this point."

"Have they ever formed ceasefires with Arkhan over this?"

"Hm. This is the first time actually. At the very least, there've been no precedents during my or Father's reigns. There are records of it happening five rulers ago though..."

"Then isn't this a sign that the empire is serious? Just sit on our bums and drink tea...?"

"Now that, my son, is simply an insult to me." Rodin slowly straightened his back, his bright blue eyes boring holes into Reivan. "You know I take matters of national security very seriously. Naturally, I have already prepared numerous countermeasures."

Reivan realized that perhaps he'd been a bit too hot-blooded and settled down, watching as his father also broke into a smile.

"I appreciate your passion very much, though. Keep that up. But have you forgotten? I've already placed Duchess Mercer near the front lines."

"I... have not forgotten..."

"I have also had our side go deeper into enemy lines for the past few engagements, embarking on longer campaigns behind enemy lines. This is to further whittle down imperial numbers and infrastructure, while also creating opportunities for our spies to infiltrate Argonia."

"Uh, right..." Reivan nodded, even though he didn't know that one. It felt as if Stella may have mentioned something to that extent whenever she came home from the frontlines, but Reivan likely filtered it out as temporarily irrelevant at the time.

"And furthermore..." Rodin wasn't done, but the tea was. So he picked it up and took a sip before continuing. "Our nation hasn't been slacking in innovations regarding warfare either."

"Innovations...?"

"Yes. Scholars under our employ have managed to invent some truly... heinous weapons of mass destruction. If need be, we can show the empire why it is better to leave us alone. One command from me is all it takes and a few imperial cities will disappear off the map."

Reivan frowned, his expression pensive. "...That sounds horrible."

"I know. I wouldn't want to unleash such a slaughter. But always remember, son. For millennia, Aizen has never desired to gain territory beyond the peaks of The Wolf's Jaw. We have always been satisfied to stay in our little peninsula, walled off from the rest of the continent by a mountain range. It was the empire that wanted to cross that wall, not us. They were the aggressors. We have always just protected ourselves."

"Yes, Father." Reivan sighed, a crease on his forehead. "Still, it would be great if those things never have to be used."

"Right." Rodin nodded sagely. "But if we are forced into a dire situation, I won't hesitate to do so. Aizen is powerful, son. So powerful that even when we hide most of our strength, the empire and the republic still use stories of our knights as the monsters of their children's bedtime stories. Even nations from the Pentagoria continent and Sutherim have heard of and fear us. And to appear in a better light, we maintain the image of a gentle giant, though the physically smallest of three."

Under the light of the moon seeping through the window, Rodin smiled ferociously, his teeth bared.

"And it is because of our strength that nobody will pity us. Nobody will step forward to protect us. We must do that ourselves. No matter the cost."

Reivan didn't look away from his father's strong gaze, only nodding. "Yes, Father."

"If the empire kicks a sleeping giant, they can blame no one for the genocide unleashed upon their nation, no? I expect this level of commitment from you and your brother as well."

"And I will not disappoint you."

"Now that's a fucking good answer!" Rodin broke into a fit of raucous laughter. The use of crude language made it even more apparent to Reivan how seriously his father thought about this issue. Once the king finally calmed down, he stood up. "Now, if that's all, you may leave. That's not a suggestion, by the way. You're a bother. And don't worry about the republic too much. Your old man hasn't gone senile yet, so affairs there are mostly still under my control."

Reivan smirked. "How impressive."

"Careful with your tone, boy. You almost sounded sarcastic there. Anyway, I'm sure you're already taking steps to minimize the fallout to your organization. Is that right?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good. Focus on that and increasing your personal strength for now. Leave matters of other nations and other worlds to me and the other old people. And don't take this as me telling you you're not good enough to handle those matters. Rather, it would be a greater help to me and your brother if you, say, become a Transcendent within the next few decades."

Reivan grimaced. "That's a bit much..."

Rodin chuckled and shrugged. "In any case, you seem to excel in combat, so you should pour most of your attention on that. I and your brother aren't particularly talented in that regard so I hope you'll help the family out by representing the men of the royal family in matters of battle..."

The prince couldn't help but snicker. "I'll do my best to help you two out, then."

"That sounds wonderful. Oh, and speaking of helping us out... Now, I know I just said you should focus on increasing your strength, but I have a daunting amount of paperwork that I could use some help with. They all need to have a royal pass their eyes over them, so even you should..."

"I just remembered something I have to do, Father." Reivan bolted up from his seat and briskly walked toward the door. "I must make haste."

"I see. Well, how unfortunate."

As he resisted the urge to break decorum and run out of the room, Reivan heard his father mutter, "This brat runs so decisively..."

Just as he was about to make it through the door, Rodin suddenly called out to him. "Oh, right. I heard that it's about time for that warbeast event where you unlock your qi."

That got Reivan to perk up his ears and stop. "What about it?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to say anything specific, according to your mother." Rodin had already returned behind his desk, looking through his papers with a frown on his face. "But I do know that something should happen within the week."

"Really?" Reivan beamed excitedly at this news. "So I'll unlock my qi just like that?"

"You have to pass some sort of trial, apparently. It would be hard without any help, but we can just cheat. According to Chief Mikachi, it's fairly common to do so too."

"Great! I can't wait."

Rodin eyed him suspiciously as he rubbed his hands in anticipation. "By the way, son..."

"Yeah?"

"Have you... felt hot anywhere?"

"Hot? I hate the heat so I regulate myself with cool air from time to time. Why?"

"That's not what I meant. Hmm..." Rodin rubbed his chin and frowned, seemingly contemplating what to say. "I mean, have you felt... strange in the area slightly below your stomach."

"Below my stomach..." Reivan looked down, his hand caressing his solar plexus. His hand then slid downward slightly, to his belly button. "Um, no. Nothing in particular."

"Not there... Nevermind." The king shook his head free of thoughts and smiled. "Well, if you don't feel anything at the moment, that's fine. I suppose Mimi hasn't said anything either."

'Oh, right. Mimi's the same age as me. Yikes. Soon enough, she's gonna be able to beat up Hector too...'

Reivan couldn't help but think that Hector was truly pitiful.

"Hm. Well, I'll go now, Father. Good night."

"Yes, good night. Oh, and just to be safe..." Rodin stamped down on a document, the loud noise echoing across the room. "For a while, try to avoid going near anyone female that's weaker than you. Your mother's fine, though. And if Valter's there, that's fine too."

"What? Why?"

"Do you want to unlock your qi or not?"

"I do!"

"Then that settles it."

Rodin shooed his son away and Reivan had no choice but to comply, as he didn't want to interrupt the man's work.

'Anyone female...? So the maids, Helen, Jiji, Mimi, and Elsa? What the hell? I have important matters with almost all of them!'

Reivan didn't really understand why he had to do something so strange, but since it concerned the unlocking of his qi, he had to take it seriously. Eventually, he decided to put it out of his mind and obey his father's words, since he only had to do it for a week or two.

Training with Helen, consultations with Jiji, and business meetings with Elsa couldn't be how it was for a while, but he could probably work something out by using communication crystals or messengers.

'It'll be fine.'

Reivan felt like whatever was coming, he would get through it easily.

Arc#3 Chapter 57: Elsa's Business Ventures

From the young woman’s earlier words, Reivan had expected the private rooms to contain beds. However, that was not the case.

If he wanted to describe it as fast as possible, the private rooms were basically luxurious versions of the “karaoke rooms” he’d seen in anime.

The opulent adornments were a given, but the most noticeable part of the room was a large couch on the other side of the entrance. A low table was in front of it, adorned with an arrangement of appetizers and wine bottles, similar to the ones below.

And just like the couches on the first floor, the plush seat was accompanied by a beautiful woman.

“Good evening, my master.” Elsamina stood up and bowed low. Today, she was wearing a modest black lace dress that showed very little of her skin, but clung tightly to her body, showing off her explosive curves.

Reivan had already gotten somewhat used to her charm in the past year, so her good health and brighter complexion stood out to him much more.

“Yes, it’s been a while.” Reivan nodded. Noting that there was only one couch — which was the one she was sitting on — he couldn’t help but comment. “I was under the impression these rooms could be used by numerous people should the need arise.”

Seemingly seeing through his thoughts, Elsamina sat down and poured some wine for both of them. “There are usually more, but the room felt too stuffy. So I had this particular room’s amenities modified.”

“You didn’t have to go to such trouble.”

“I only wish for my master to have the best experiences.” Elsamina patted the spot right next to her. “On that note, please, sit.”

Reivan ignored her and procured an armchair from his storage ring. Placing it down so that the table stood between them.

“How unfortunate.” Elsamina giggled and pushed a glass of wine toward him.

“You tempt me too much,” Reivan grumbled, collapsing on the soft seating while ignoring the wine he shouldn’t drink yet. "You should know better by now."

“It’s just because I wish to grow closer to you. And on that note, you needn’t have brought a guard…”

‘I’m glad I did, actually.’

Reivan cleared his throat and got down to business. “Where did you get the money for all of this?”

Elsamina smiled, her enchanting green eyes staring right into his own. “You will not be happy to hear it.”

“I still need to hear it. So speak.”

“As you wish.” Elsamina tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and covered her lower face with a black fan. “Loans.”

“Loans…?”

“Yes, my master. I took out some loans to pay for everything.”

“That’s…” Reivan’s eyes widened as he worked it out in his head. “You took out a loan to start a business here…?”

“Yes. And I know you fundamentally don’t like going into debt, but don’t worry. Since all of it has already been paid off a few days ago.”

Reivan’s jaw slackened, surprise coloring his face. “Really…?”

“I assure you that we don’t owe a single cent to anyone.” Elsamina giggled, her eyes glinting with pride. “And now, we have a very profitable business in one of Aizen’s largest and most prosperous cities that will continue to bring in revenue for the foreseeable future.”

“This is…” Reivan sat there, stunned.

‘Amazing.’

Elsamina bent forward and gracefully plucked a grape from one of the bowls, then let it pass through her soft pink lips. “I know I didn’t follow the plans we worked on. But is this not why you gave me so much independence? I saw a business opportunity and I took it faster than anyone else. And now we profit. So please don’t be too angry with me.”

Reivan shook his head, picking up the wine and taking a sip despite himself. “I’m not angry.”

“That’s wonderful news. I have a copy of our ledgers for you to peruse at your leisure. Naturally, I had to subtract the debt we repaid, so the profits may not look too promising at the moment. But I’m sure you’re aware that it can only go up from here.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.” Reivan took the offered papers in a daze, only for his eyes to almost pop out at the unrealistic figures. “How did you do all of this…”

“It’s a long story. Is that okay?”

“Summarize it.”

“Very well.” Elsamina dipped her head and embarked on a long explanation that did not, in any way, seem summarized at all.

Basically, while she was doing market research after having “infiltrated” Aizen through one of the visas he provided her, Elsamina discovered something very strange about the kingdom’s society.

Basically, there were little to no red-light districts.

She eventually came to understand that this was because there was simply no need for women to do such a "demeaning" job. Food was cheap, public safety and welfare were immaculate, healthcare was supreme with the Sun God’s church nearby, and there were quite a lot of opportunities for women to climb up the ranks, be it in the military or politics.

That was why there was never a need for women to go into that line of business.

But even if that was the case, it wasn’t as if men stopped being men. Naturally, if there was an opportunity to interact with incredibly attractive young women for a reasonable price, they would take it.

This was why the whorehouses in Worgon were popular with some Aizenians. There was a general consensus that these establishments were “unholy” or “wrong” though, so for the most part, these brothels still had immigrants as their most frequent customers.

Elsamina saw through this and immediately decided to capitalize on this gaping hole in the market by offering something in between — an establishment that wasn't a whorehouse but would still provide opportunities to meet attractive women with no strings attached.

Of course, the problem was the girls who would serve in such establishments. As mentioned, jobs such as these were generally unfavored by the women of Aizen. Elsamina hoped that with time, that would change when those women came to know that work as a hostess wasn't too bad.

This meant that the only candidates were her sisters from the brothel she grew up in.

Although Elsamina planned to limit the extent of the services offered, she naturally had no intentions of forcing her sisters into such a job. They had finally been freed from their shackles, so why would she willingly push them into that role once again?

Surprisingly, however, the girls were all too willing.

There were various reasons: finding an Aizenian man to take them in so they could become naturalized Aizenian citizens; gaining a better idea of the preferences of Aizenian men in order to one day catch one; and even something as simple as wanting to aid the organization that took them in.

In any case, most of the girls agreed. The few that didn't, had other tasks that demanded their attention, but would have done so if they were free.

Elsamina initially wanted to do a small-scale trial run, but then she caught wind of a very well-developed property in Starwater City. It was put up for sale after the owner’s death. And since the sons who’d inherited it had no business acumen, they’d all collectively decided to sell the property and split the profits amongst themselves.

And those sons had been all too happy to sell it to a drop-dead gorgeous bombshell like Elsamina. On credit alone, and with no interest at that!

She then took out another loan from someone else — of course, with no interest again — to pay for the renovations and amenities required to match the level of opulence that Starwater City demanded.

While the renovations were ongoing, Elsamina went around to build connections with the local business owners while advertising her business at every opportunity to make things smoother come opening time.

Her efforts bore enormous fruit. Even though customers weren’t allowed to go all the way — or even half of the way — the establishment was still very popular.

It didn’t seem as if the customers expected much in the first place. Merely being fawned over by an attractive young woman in a skimpy dress would get any man’s blood boiling. And this was further exacerbated when they eventually realized they could do more depending on how much they got the girls to like them.

And the establishment provided a very easy way for them to do this — by buying more of the overpriced drinks the establishment offered. Seeing as the girls got a commission from every sale, it was the perfect way to give the girls "gifts" and support them.

“Even I didn’t expect it to do so well!” Elsamina exclaimed, fanning her slightly blushing cheeks. “I’ve never handled so much money in my life. And they were all in lumens! Not in Republican coin, lumens!”

Reivan listened in horror, realizing that Elsamina was basically running a Simp-Draining business. It was one thing to exploit women, but this time, they were basically exploiting these men — who weren’t used to having women fawn over them.

Seemingly seeing through his thoughts again, Elsamina quickly explained. “Of course, we don’t go too far, mind you. This is partially why we only really target the rich and the really rich. They have more money than they know what to do with! We also make sure that the customers know how the place works, and have the girls stop them if they seem too inebriated or are spending above their station.”

‘That doesn’t make it any better…but I suppose we are an underground organization to a certain extent. Shady practices are par for the course.’

“Master…” Elsamina looked at him, pouting pitifully. “Did I do well?”

Reivan gazed at her for a few moments before nodding with a sigh. “Yes. You did very well. But don’t forget to pay taxes.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dare to actually break the law. Not here. The ledgers are all in order and we are paying our dues to the Aizenian crown properly. Everything is crystal clear and above the table.”

“Good.” Reivan’s fingers tapped his chair’s armrest as he thought of something. “Also, have some of our men been making nuisances of themselves lately? I heard a few of them got taken in for questioning.”

Elsamina covered her mouth with her fan and chuckled wryly. “Yes, but there was no harm done. As expected of Aizen's impartial law enforcement. Even though they were all immigrants, our men were let go because they did nothing wrong.”

“And what exactly were you having them do?”

“It was another business venture I was trying. There was not much success though. A skill issue, most likely.”

Reivan tapped the armrest again. “Explain.”

“I was trying to explore new ways of selling things. This time, owing to the fact that people generally felt safer, I had some of our men sell things to citizens directly to their homes."

"Directly...?"

"Yes. Generally speaking, it's ill-advised to open your doors to a stranger. But people in Aizen don't seem to care too much about it because public safety's so great."

'Huh. I guess that's true...'

Elsamina sighed and shook her head in regret. "It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, likely due to their lack of experience in hawking wares. And I suppose their appearances worked against them as well, though I tried to select the better-looking ones. Even though Ouroboros has improved rapidly as an organization over the past year, gang members are still gang members. They're hardly presentable.”

“Right…”

‘Isn’t that basically door-to-door sales…?’

Reivan’s jaw felt slack when he realized that Elsamina had pretty much tried a sales tactic from modern Earth.

“I know. It was a waste of time. But in business, it is better to try and fail than never to try at all. Especially when the risks aren’t even that high. I will not be continuing with the venture though, as there are better ways to sell things now.”

“Like how…?” Reivan had a bad feeling, but he still asked.

Elsamina giggled, and Reivan could swear she sounded downright evil. “We just have to get the girls downstairs to mention the products in passing. A lot of the customers are actually merchants, y’know? Rather than selling the products to Aizenians with our amateurish skills and knowledge of how native minds operate, it would be better to supply it to people who specialize in selling to Aizenians.”

“That is…” Reivan wore a crooked smile as he nodded. “a very good idea, actually.”

“Right?” She laughed, seemingly pleased by his agreement. Her tinkling laughter filled the small room. “Anyway, because of everything, I feel like it is best if I stay here for a while. To oversee everything and whatnot.”

Her words shocked Reivan for a moment but then his expression became more severe. “Elsa. I remember enlisting your aid precisely because I wished for you to manage matters regarding Ouroboros’ Arkhnian branches in my stead.”

Elsamina’s frivolous atmosphere also dissipated, and she grew more solemn. “Yes, Master. I know.”

“I have never forbidden you from visiting Aizen, correct?"

"Never, Master."

"Right. And even now, I've overlooked the fact that you used most of the upper-grade visas I provided to transfer your sisters over here. But going away for months on end is a bit much considering what I originally expected of you, correct?”

“You are correct, Master.”

“Then what do you have planned for that? If you wish to stay here for an extended period of time, then what will happen to our matters in the Republic? You pitched this idea to me, even as you pretended it was a casual matter, so surely you must have an answer, hm?”

“Of course.” Elsamina nodded, a bit guiltily.

“Let me hear it, then.”

“You may not be aware, Master. But things in Arkhan have been taking a turn for the worse.”

“In what way?”

Elsamina took a sip from her drink and sighed. “The republic has been cracking down on illegal activity in the past three months.”

“I am aware.” Reivan nodded, obviously privy to such basic information. “Xanthus said as much. What of it? Corruption still runs rampant. And we’ve been avoiding scrutiny by bribing the right people… or so I’ve heard.”

‘And anyway, I’ve been steadily expanding toward the legal sector, so Ourobos barely has any illegal activity aside from what Greyviel does, some drug trafficking, and some slave trade… though, when I list it off like that, I guess it does seem like a lot.’

Luckily, it didn’t appear as if that was the problem. But unfortunately, the problem turned out to be bigger than he thought.

Elsamina took a deep breath, her expression solemn.

“The Sage King's Spirit Tower has gotten involved.”

Arc#3 Chapter 56: The Serpent's Haven

Reivan couldn’t help but offer a round of applause after Hector performed a short song for them. “Surprisingly, you’re good at this. I thought you won the talent show because you bribed the judges.”

Hector rolled his eyes, putting down the new flute he’d gotten as a gift from Reivan. “Can’t you just say something nice? You know, without the stupid commentary?”

“This is how I show my love.”

“Don’t show it. I don’t want such a thing. Not from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you refusing something bestowed upon you by royalty? How insolent!”

“Don’t speak like a thug if you want to be treated like royalty.”

As the two boys bickered in good faith as they usually did, Mimi reached over and patted Hector on the shoulder, a big smile on her face. “Hector, that was amazing!”

In contrast to his reaction to Reivan’s “praise”, Hector visibly grew awkward as he smiled wryly. “I-I’m not that good…”

“What's that supposed to mean, huh?” Mimi frowned, her brows creasing. “I said you’re amazing, so you’re amazing! Just shut up and accept the praise!”

“Ah! Yes! I’m very sorry!”

“Why are you apologizing? Don’t apologize!”

“I’m sorr— I mean, uh…” Hector stuttered, at a loss for what to say.

“Geez…!” Mimi stabbed her fork into a juicy piece of fish, then shoved it into her mouth. She chewed while seemingly trying to calm herself down. Once she did, she pointed her fork at Hector, making him blanch. “You really have to learn how to accept compliments, y’know? Every time you play it off like that, I feel like an idiot for saying it. Was that what you wanted?”

“A-Absolutely not!”

“So stop making people feel bad for being nice to you!”

“Yes!”

“You’re more amazing than you think, y’know? Get used to it already. Just say thank you or something.”

“Uh… I’ll try…?”

Mimi nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Let's try again, okay? Hector, you were really good at playing the flute!"

"Thank you..."

"Louder!"

"Thankyouverymuch!"

"I said louder, not faster!"

"Yes! I'm sorry!"

"I said don't apologize!"

Hector looked as if tears would fall from his eyes as he turned toward his friend for aid.

Reivan ignored his pleas, snickering as he watched them before reaching out for what he thought was a plate of shellfish similar to oysters — except these had shells with small spikes protruding outward — but he soon realized that said the plate was completely empty.

“Hey…”

Scowling at the culprit had no effect whatsoever, since the guiltless catgirl simply wiped her mouth with a napkin, her manners graceful once again.

“Is something wrong, Yani?” Jiji gave him a side glance after noticing his gaze.

“...Nothing,” Reivan grumbled, standing up. “Anyway, I have to go now.”

“I must also go now.” Jiji nodded. “There’s still a bit of time, but arriving early never hurt anyone.”

“Correct. Then we’ll leave together.” The young prince then looked at the other two. “What about you guys?”

Hector scratched his head, an awkward smile on his face. “I think I’ll head home…”

“What?” Mimi tilted her head, reaching out to pinch onto the hem of Hector’s shirt. “Already?”

“Eh? Ah, well…” Hector grew flustered, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face. “it’s late at night, so I just thought…”

“Late at night…? Does that matter?”

“Uh, I’d like to think so, yeah.”

“But we just started hanging out! You can’t leave so soon!”

Reivan took the chance to step in. “Why don’t you guys take a few more rounds on a gondola? And Hector can play some songs for you too.”

“That sounds great!” Mimi jumped out of her seat and grabbed Hector’s hand. “You’re going, right?”

Hector glanced at their joined hands with a red face, threw a glance at his friend’s evil smirk, and then nodded to the brown-haired girl he fancied for a while now. “Sure.”

“Let’s go right now!”

Wasting no time, Mimi ran out, dragging Hector along.

As they passed, Reivan whispered. “Thank me later.”

Hector, his face still slightly red, glared at him and mouthed, “I hate you.”

‘Yes, yes. I love you too, my friend.’

Reivan chuckled and smoothed out his attire. He then held out a hand to help his little sister up from her seat.

Even though she obviously didn’t need any help, Jiji’s smile brightened even more as she took his offer. “You’re a good friend, Yani.”

“I know.”

The girl’s smile immediately grew awkward. “You’re supposed to be humble at that part…”

“You spoke only the truth, so I agreed with you. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Fine…” Jiji seemingly gave up, changing the subject as they strode out of the room. “Where are you headed off to now, by the way?”

“I already told you that it’s a secret. Don’t try to casually steal the truth from me.” Reivan lightly pinched her cheek and glanced back, to where Valter was handling the payment for the feast they ate.

‘He’s as considerate as ever.’

The guardian knight likely knew that Reivan would develop an ulcer from seeing the bill, so he’d likely stepped forward to pay the tab in his liege’s stead. Of course, the money still came from Reivan’s wallet, but it still didn’t change the fact that he would be spared from the mental damage.

Reivan was glad he asked Valter to safeguard most of his money. There was no better way to protect his gold than to leave it in the hands of an Ascendant that could so freely travel through space.

“Geez, just tell me already. I can keep a secret.” Jiji pestered him relentlessly, even latching onto him from behind and acting like a spoiled princess — which she was, in fact.

Fighting the urge to give in, Reivan shook his head. “Maybe once you’re older.”

“I’m twelve already!”

“That’s not old at all, y’know?”

“But in just a year or so, I’ll have to find a mate. Doesn’t that mean that I’m plenty old already?”

“Wha—” Reivan ground to a halt, looking at his sister incredulously. “Find a what…?”

Jiji tilted her head and chirped. “A mate!”

“So I didn’t hear wrong…” The prince frowned. “Are you sure you’re using that word correctly? You should pay more attention to your English lessons…”

“It means that I have to find a boy that I’ll marry, right? That’s what I mean!”

Reivan’s face morphed into a twisted grimace. “Who the hell told you something like that?”

Jiji raised a brow. “Nobody. That’s just how it is in our clan.”

‘Oh. Mystery solved. It’s a warbeast thing.’

“You don’t have to follow such a tradition. In any case, mother did not find a mat— ehem, I mean a husband until she was much older. So there’s no problem with not following it.”

“Uhm…” Jiji tapped her chin, a troubled look on her face. “But that’s because she was royalty. Also, she’s from an ice lineage, so it’s understandable.”

‘Okay, you lost me there.’

Reivan assumed he was missing some fundamental knowledge about the bestial half of his heritage. But this wasn’t the time for that. And in any case, finding a “mate” in their early teens was just wrong, so he had to stop his precious little sister from doing such a thing.

“You’re royalty now too.” Reivan used part of her reasoning against her. “Also, you’re no longer part of the Terracatta clan, right? You’re part of our clan now — the royal clan.”

“Oh.” Jiji’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hand. “That’s true, I suppose. Then that means I can take my time like the humans do, right?”

“Exactly. Maybe when you’re thirty… or forty.” Reivan tried to imagine some random guy marrying Jiji and immediately felt annoyed. “Rather, just don’t get married. Nobody ever said a woman absolutely had to get married.”

Even he knew he was being a bit too overprotective. But if Jiji really brought home a nice man and they truly seemed in love, Reivan wouldn’t get in the way of their happiness.

Of course, he would bully the guy a little. Just a little.

‘And besides, Jiji has a bright future ahead of her.’

It was obvious from the past year that Jiji flourished in political battlefields.

Sure, the grand ministers haunting the morning court sessions doted on her for her adorable appearance, but they weren’t as muddleheaded as to let their city’s interests suffer. They had all been in their line of work for decades, and with that time came experience and wisdom.

The fact that there had been no complaints so far meant that Jiji managed to offer satisfying resolutions to most of the issues they brought up, and helped facilitate a common ground between opposing parties.

With a bit more polishing up, Jiji would most likely be the perfect person to place in the seat of Prime Minister once old man Dante inevitably kicked the bucket. And the perfect part about this was that she would be partly related to the royal family, so she would also count as the family's representative.

‘Elder brother has taken notice as well.’

Roland had already divulged his intentions to make Jiji his Primero one day, when he sat on Aizen’s throne. That said, that was a day far off into the future, since their father was in very good health and Jiji could not possibly be ready within a decade or two.

“That’s good.” Jiji nodded, her arms around him tightening. “I don’t wanna be separated from everyone…”

“Separated?”

“Uh-huh. Girls have to go with their mates after all. And they can’t get close to other boys for a while too!”

“I see.” Reivan bobbed his head, connecting the dots of why the latter was not allowed. “Like I said, just ignore those things.”

“Yep!” Jiji smothered her face against his back and cooed. “Yani~!”

“Stop it. I can’t walk…”

The two eventually made it to the restaurant’s exit, complimented the food to the server who saw them out of the place, and then separated.

“Bye, Yani~!”

Reivan waved goodbye to his little sister, who was seemingly walking down the street alone. He then looked around for something.

‘Oh. There they are.’

A brief scan with his [Supreme Insight] revealed that there were quite a few strong people disguised as tourists or passersby, surrounding Jiji and following her every movement. Reivan even met eyes with some of them, prompting them to nod at each other since saluting would only serve to foolishly reveal their affiliation. He knew about an Ascendant guard too, but Reivan didn’t know where to look — which, he supposed, was a testament to the knight’s skill in keeping out of sight.

“Shall we go, Valter?” Reivan looked toward his own knight, whom he trusted with his life more than any other knight.

“As you wish, Young Master Van.” The guardian knight smiled, playing the role of a guard well.

The two shared knowing smirks before they used a nearby alley to sneak out of sight before vanishing into a puddle of darkness.


════ ⋆★★★⋆ ════


Reivan, magically disguised as his “Ken” persona, entered an establishment called "The Serpent's Haven" that looked suspiciously like a cabaret or a hostess club from his previous world.

Which made sense upon entering, since he discovered that the place really was a hostess club.

The moment they entered through the elegant double doors, they were greeted by the sight of a majestic hall with a high ceiling complete with numerous crystal chandeliers. It was a stark contrast to the restaurant Reivan had just eaten at, but the luxurious and extravagant adornments in the hall were relatively common in Starwater City’s establishments — for the rich frequented this domain and only the height of opulence could live up to their standards.

If it were just that, it obviously wouldn’t be called a hostess bar.

Under the light of the crystal chandelier, elegant music filled the air just loud enough so the intimate conversations between man and woman did not reach the other guests. Lavish couches shaped like a half circle were spread out all over the large hall, with low tables set with various wines and hors d'oeuvres.

The couches’ backs were high enough to completely hide the patrons from behind as long as they stayed seated, offering pockets of intimate gatherings in relative privacy.

And privacy was most appreciated, for Reivan could see them all quite clearly while standing up. The entrance to the hostess bar was on a slightly higher platform than the rest of the first floor, providing a higher vantage point. Most of the customers were men, and they were accompanied by one, sometimes two women — each with their own charms and dressed in exquisite attire that complemented those charms, ranging from modest to revealing… and then to very revealing.

Though there was nothing to be censored should it be shown on Japanese media back on Earth, there was quite a bit of… touching happening. At the very least, he would not willingly bring any of his friends or sisters to such an establishment.

‘What the hell are you doing, Elsamina… And where the hell did you get the money to get a place in Starwater City of all places? This must have been ridiculously expensive!’

“How troubling…” Valter muttered from behind him.

“I know, right?” Reivan heaved a sigh but headed deeper inside anyway. “Getting this place up and running must have cost a fortune.”

“That wasn’t what I meant. I was troubled over whether to bring you out of this establishment since it’s not the kind of place someone as young as you should be visiting.”

“I’ve killed men, Valter. Killed a monster greater than most men too. Don’t you think it’s a bit late to bring up my age at this point?”

“That is just how it should be.” Valter fixed his collar. “And in any case, I do not particularly wish to be seen here myself. My wife can be quite jealous from time to time… even though she pretends otherwise.”

Reivan looked at his knight blankly before nodding. “I suppose there’s also that problem. I wouldn’t know what my family would think if they knew… although Father likely already knows.”

‘Damn. I shouldn’t have gone in so hastily. Well, since I’m here anyway…’

It was as they say, “in for a penny, in for a pound”. Since he already went inside, nobody would believe him if he said he didn’t do anything in this seedy place. There was no longer a use for regret or reluctance.

“Welcome, Master.” A pretty young woman in what looked like a butler’s attire stepped forward to welcome them with a glowing smile. “Everything has been prepared. Please let me guide you.”

“Thank you.” Reivan nodded, not wondering why she didn’t even ask for their names. “Is she in good health?”

“She is very well,” The young woman nodded as she continued down the hall, eventually leading them up a grand staircase.

As he followed, the looks of envy from the guests below did not evade Reivan’s notice. “Where are we being led to?”

“To the VIP rooms on the second floor, young master,” The woman replied. “Unlike how it was back in the republic, we do not allow the customers and the girls to go too far. Still, it cannot be helped if one of our girls takes a fancy to one of the customers. And so they are usually led to the upper hall for a more… intimate time.”

Reivan frowned. “I do not appreciate the misunderstandings that will be born from this.”

“Worry not. There are more luxurious VIP rooms on the second floor for larger parties. These can be rented out for a price, so we can simply say that you wished for more privacy. Of course, renting one of these rooms out does not mean you can do anything to the girls. So no dirt will stain your name, Master.”

“Hmph.” Reivan placed his hand on the railing as he made his way up, sparing another glance at those below. “You say they cannot be too intimate, but aren’t they already doing so while still being down there?”

The young woman giggled, following his gaze. “Touches to the limbs are generally allowed. But for anywhere else, consent must be provided.”

“Do they all just consent then?”

“Not at all. It’s just you’ve coincidentally caught us at a time when there are only regulars in the house. These men have been helping us with large donations since we opened about a month ago. And if they go too far, there are peacekeepers everywhere in the city. The threat alone is enough to stave off misbehavior.”

Reivan ruminated on her words for a bit before heaving a sigh. “I thought you girls wanted to get away from this type of life...”

The young woman stopped climbing up the stairs and turned around, a serious look on her face.

“This is the only life we know how to live, Master.”

“Is that so…” Reivan sighed again, feeling depressed all of a sudden.

“But worry not.” She smiled, a true smile if Reivan’s eyes were to be trusted. “This time, we’re doing this willingly. And on our own terms. We decide what we give away now. Not anyone else.”

After speaking her piece, the young woman he didn’t even know the name of turned around and continued climbing up the staircase.

“And besides, young master.” She trailed off, her eyes carried a strange glint as she stared intently at those below. “The men in Aizen are much different than the ilk we have come to know back in Arkhan. They are gentlemanly, easier to please… and very pleasing to the eyes. It is not unpleasant at all to be fawned over by such men.”

“O-Oh, is that so.” Reivan nodded, feeling her gaze shift toward him.

“Yes. And among them all, you are the most desirable one, save for the men of the royal family.”

“R-right…”

“So if it strikes your fancy, I would love it if you would give me the opportunity to appeal to you. I may not be as experienced as my elder sisters, but I’m sure I can make up for it with enthusiasm.”

“I-I…” Reivan hesitated, his eyes unconsciously flitting toward the woman's plump bottom — which her masculine attire couldn’t completely conceal. Feeling as if refusing her outright would be too much, he decided to play it off for now. “I’m still too young. But I will keep your thoughts in mind.”

The young woman giggled. “Please do.”

There was little conversation for the rest of the way. Right after making it up the massive staircase, they went down a hallway with numerous doors containing the private rooms that were spoken of earlier. Halfway down the hall, they stopped.

“Eldest Sister is in there, Master Ken. Please head inside.”

Reivan looked down the rest of the hall, asking the question in his heart. “What’s in there?”

“Offices, and our private quarters, master.”

“And what about this room?”

“It is one of the many VIP rooms usually reserved to serve guests that we like.”

“I see. Well, should the meeting not be conducted in the office you mentioned…?”

The young woman shook her head. “This place is where Eldest Sister feels best to converse with you.”

Reivan’s brows creased, his foot tapping against the floor. Eventually, he decided it would be too much of a pain to move the meeting elsewhere, especially since he mustn’t stay here for too long.

'I wish I could just have Valter portal us over to some other place... but I know I can't do that.'

“Fine.” Reivan heaved a deep sigh of resignation as he reached forward to open the door.

But before he could, the young woman grabbed his hand.

"What are yo—"

"Master." She brought her face close and whispered the words into his ears. "My sisters call me Aila. But you can call me any time you want."

As her breath tickled his ears, he could feel her fingers gently caressing his palm, sending a surge of electricity into his body from where her fingertips touched. Her skin was so soft, so soft it felt like the roughness of his own palm would scrape off some of her flesh. He didn't know if it came from her hair, her clothes, or herself, but the beating of his heart began to quicken as a womanly scent wafted into his nose. And with their proximity, Reivan finally noticed that her eyes were a striking shade of amber that shined in the light.

At that moment, Reivan became painfully aware that the creature in front of him was a woman.

His eyes, ears, nose, and even his skin — four of his five senses were all being stimulated much more than they ever had, and Reivan knew he could satisfy the last one too, if only she went a bit closer...

But before he could do anything more, she had already retreated with her arms behind her back, and mischief on her face. "Please don't forget about me."

As Reivan watched her leave, likely heading back to the bar's entrance, he unconsciously reached up to place a hand against his chest, feeling the loud drumming of his heart and the blood rushing through his veins.

"Stay strong, young master." Valter chimed in from the side, sounding sympathetic.

"R-right..." Reivan took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down but Aila's charming face and her bright amber eyes kept on coming back to haunt his mind.

'Fuck.'

Worst of all, he had to slightly bend forward after he finally noticed a bulge in his pants. Soon enough, the frustration and embarrassment he felt calmed "it" down, but Reivan couldn't help but realize something.

'This place probably earns a shit fucking ton of money, doesn't it?'

In any case, he would likely not forget about the woman any time soon.

Glimpse of Eternity - Table of Contents

This post documents every single Glimpse of Eternity chapter currently posted on Patreon — together with the link to the post, of course.

It will also mark down what tier you have to join to have access to it. If it is unmarked, then that pretty much means that you simply have to be a PAID member to have access — in other words, all tiers.

I also plan to slowly post all the chapters on Patreon just so I have another place to use as a backup for my GoE — just in case Royalroad and Scribblehub decide to simultaneously shut down or permaban me.

For ease of use, this post will be pinned to the top of the page for as long as GoE is a running project.

(And even if I decide to go KU, it is apparently legal for me to keep the story here on my personal Patreon page. So anyone who wanted to reread the entire story for some reason can do so by paying a measly dollar even after I've taken them off other platforms. Yay?)

<<NEWEST CHAPTERS>>

[All Patrons]

Arc#5 Chapter 12: Fang and Feather

[Mortal+]

Arc#5 Chapter 13: Motives Revealed

Arc#5 Chapter 14: Spellbound

[Ascendant+]

Arc#5 Chapter 15: Samsara

Arc#5 Chapter 16: Sun

Arc#5 Chapter 17: Ghost

Arc#5 Chapter 18: Duties

[Transcendent+] 

Arc#5 Chapter 19: Reclamation

Arc#5 Chapter 20: Interception

Arc#5 Chapter 21: Devastation

Arc#5 Chapter 22: In and Out (1)

Arc#5 Chapter 23: In and Out (2)

Arc#5 Chapter 24: In and Out (3)

════════════════
ARCHIVED CHAPTERS
════════════════

Non-Story Posts:
[POLL ] Ascendant Knights? or...
Hey, Check it out. I made a map of Aizen

Arc #3 - Proving One's Worth (Prologue - Ch.32 not uploaded yet)
Arc#3 Chapter 33: A Day in the Life of a 12-year-old Prince (3)
Arc#3 Chapter 34: A Day in the Life of a 12-year-old Prince (4)
Arc#3 Chapter 35: A Day in the Life of a 12-year-old Prince (5)
Arc#3 Interlude: Meanwhile, Elsewhere... (1)
Arc#3 Interlude: Meanwhile, Elsewhere... (2)
Arc#3 Chapter 36: A Change in Routine
Arc#3 Chapter 37: A Different Kind of Growth
Arc#3 Chapter 38: Sparring with the Squires
Arc#3 Chapter 39: Channeling Your Inner Raid Boss is Hard
Arc#3 Chapter 40: Unbreakable
Arc#3 Chapter 41: Side Hustle
Interlude: The Soiled Temptress
Arc#3 Chapter 42: Hostile Takeover (1)
Arc#3 Chapter 43: Hostile Takeover (2)
Arc#3 Chapter 44: Hostile Takeover (3)
Arc#3 Chapter 45: Hostile Takeover (4)
Arc#3 Chapter 46: Hostile Takeover (5)
Arc#3 Chapter 47: Cleanup
Arc#3 Chapter 48: The Damsel's Mercy
Arc#3 Chapter 49: Emptiness
Arc#3 Chapter 50: The Birth of Ouroboros
Arc#3 Interlude: Names
Arc#3 Chapter 51: A Healthy Spar
Arc#3 Chapter 52: Friendly Benefits
Arc#3 Chapter 53: The Mercer Manor
Arc#3 Chapter 54: A Friend in Need
Arc#3 Chapter 55: A City of Stars and Waters
Arc#3 Chapter 56: The Serpent's Haven
Arc#3 Chapter 57: Elsa's Business Ventures
Arc#3 Chapter 58: Distant Storms
Arc#3 Chapter 59: Trial by Fire (1)
Arc#3 Chapter 60: Trial by Fire (2)
Arc#3 Chapter 61: Losing Control
Arc#3 Chapter 62: The Fall of a Dynasty (1)
Arc#3 Chapter 63: The Fall of a Dynasty (2)
Arc#3 Chapter 64: Family Planning
Arc#3 Chapter 65: A Restless Night
Arc#3 Interlude: Cornered Rats (1)
Arc#3 Interlude: Cornered Rats (2)
Arc#3 Chapter 66: The Morning After
Arc#3 Chapter 67: Sormon's Halo
Arc#3 Chapter 68: The Saintess
Arc#3 Chapter 69: Valter's Secret Method
Arc#3 Chapter 70: Meat Grinder
Arc#3 Chapter 71: Three Faces
Arc#3 Chapter 72: Objectively Better
Arc#3 Interlude: Just Another Knight
Arc#3 Chapter 73: Two Years After
Arc#3 Chapter 74: The Prodigy's Determination
Arc#3 Chapter 75: The Festival Begins
Arc#3 Chapter 76: The Middle Child has it Rough
Arc#3 Chapter 77: Proof
Arc#3 Chapter 78: Last Minute Preparations
Arc#3 Chapter 79: Facial Problems
Arc#3 Interlude: In the Waiting Room
Arc#3 Chapter 80: Challenge
Arc#3 Chapter 81: Red, Blue, and Yellow
Arc#3 Chapter 82: Chaos
Arc#3 Chapter 83: Struggle
Arc#3 Chapter 84: Match End
Arc#3 Chapter 85: The Match's Conclusion
Arc#3 Chapter 86: Pride
Arc#3 Interlude: Aide
Arc#3 Chapter 87: If You Love Someone
Arc#3 Epilogue: Beacons in the Darkness
 
Arc #4 - Schemes and Sorcery
Arc#4 Prologue: Filth
Arc#4 Chapter 1: A Small Favor
Arc#4 Chapter 2: A Beautiful Morning
Arc#4 Chapter 3: Genius or Madness
Arc#4 Chapter 4: Entrapment
Arc#4 Chapter 5: Light
Arc#4 Chapter 6: Departure
Arc#4 Chapter 7: Punch
Arc#4 Chapter 8: Aizen's Greatest Mistake
Arc#4 Chapter 9: New Winds
Arc#4 Chapter 10: Troubles on the Horizon
Arc#4 Chapter 11: Heart to Heart
Arc#4 Chapter 12: Into the Den
Arc#4 Chapter 13: The Welcome Party
Arc#4 Chapter 14: An Unforgettable Lesson
Arc#4 Interlude: The Right Choice
Arc#4 Chapter 15: Days Away from Home
Arc#4 Chapter 16: An Eternity of Loneliness
Arc#4 Interlude: Exposed
Arc#4 Chapter 17: Filth's Mercy
Arc#4 Chapter 18: Plans in Motion
Arc#4 Chapter 19: Oath
Arc#4 Chapter 20: Pruning
Arc#4 Chapter 21: Oathbreaker
Arc#4 Chapter 22: Reality Falsification
Arc#4 Chapter 23: Stranded
Arc#4 Chapter 24: Rebound
Arc#4 Chapter 25: Problem Solved?
Arc#4 Chapter 26: Horny Problems
Arc#4 Chapter 27: Poaching
Arc#4 Chapter 28: Escape
Arc#4 Interlude: The Knight's Bluff
Arc#4 Chapter 29: Encounter
Arc#4 Chapter 30: Aguru the Wise
Arc#4 Chapter 31: To the Tower!
Arc#4 Chapter 32: Revenge of the Black Rabbits
Arc#4 Chapter 33: Vel Ayala
Arc#4 Chapter 34: Unexpected Boon
Arc#4 Chapter 35: Shooting Star
Arc#4 Chapter 36: Hexagon
Arc#4 Chapter 37: Random Encounter
Arc#4 Chapter 38: Frozen Majesty
Arc#4 Chapter 39: Mortal Combat
Arc#4 Chapter 40: Bitter Chill
Arc#4 Chapter 41: Dominance
Arc#4 Chapter 42: Witnesses
Arc#4 Chapter 43: Getting Away with Murder
Arc#4 Chapter 44: Orientation
Arc#4 Chapter 45: Acceptance
Arc#4 Chapter 46: Orb Cracking
Arc#4 Chapter 47: Friendly Duel...?
Arc#4 Chapter 48: Olive Branch
Arc#4 Interlude: The Tallest Tower
Arc#4 Chapter 49: The First Assessment
Arc#4 Chapter 50: In the Dead of Night
Arc#4 Chapter 51: Dawn
Arc#4 Chapter 52: Squad One's Captain
Arc#4 Chapter 53: Mission
Arc#4 Chapter 54: Room Assignments
Arc#4 Chapter 55: Alley
Arc#4 Chapter 56: Into the Sewers
Knightly Interlude: The Everpresent
Arc#4 Chapter 57: Suspicions
Arc#4 Chapter 58: Fawks
Arc#4 Chapter 59: Swap
Royal Interlude: Two Kings
Arc#4 Chapter 60: Back into the Fray
Arc#4 Chapter 61: Three Oaths
Arc#4 Chapter 62: Assault
Knightly Interlude: The Insidious
Arc#4 Chapter 63: D-Day
Arc#4 Chapter 64: The Art of Wooing
Arc#4 Chapter 65: Setting Out Once Again
Arc#4 Chapter 66: Splitting Up
Arc#4 Chapter 67: The Vladeken
Royal Interlude: The Crowns Convene
Arc#4 Bonus Interlude: The Traitorous Mage's Day
Arc#4 Chapter 68: Guilt
Arc#4 Chapter 69: Whisked Away
Arc#4 Chapter 70: Betrayal
Arc#4 Chapter 71: Dealing with the Damsel in Distress
Arc#4 Interlude: The Damsel's Turmoil
Arc#4 Chapter 72: Eyes in the Dark
Arc#4 Interlude: Titans
Arc#4 Interlude: Pure Offense
Arc#4 Interlude: Heroism
Arc#4 Chapter 73: The End of an Era
Arc#4 Epilogue: The Angel in the Dark

Arc #5 - From the Ashes
Arc#5 Prologue: The Scars of War
Arc#5 Chapter 1: A New Post
Arc#5 Chapter 2: The Expedition Returns
Arc#5 Chapter 3: A Desperate Plea
Arc#5 Chapter 4: A Helping Hand
Arc#5 Chapter 5: Resolve
Arc#5 Chapter 6: Moments with the Twins
Arc#5 Chapter 7: Climate Change
Arc#5 Chapter 8: Responsibility
Arc#5 Chapter 9: A Day to Remember
Arc#5 Chapter 10: Survey Team
Arc#5 Chapter 11: The Power of Numbers
Arc#5 Chapter 12: Fang and Feather
Arc#5 Chapter 13: Motives Revealed
Arc#5 Chapter 14: Spellbound
Arc#5 Chapter 15: Samsara
Arc#5 Chapter 16: Sun
Arc#5 Chapter 17: Ghost
Arc#5 Chapter 18: Duties
Arc#5 Chapter 19: Reclamation
Arc#5 Chapter 20: Interception
Arc#5 Chapter 21: Devastation
Arc#5 Chapter 22: In and Out (1)
Arc#5 Chapter 23: In and Out (2)
Arc#5 Chapter 24: In and Out (3)

Arc#3 Chapter 54: A Friend in Need

[Author's Note]

Hello~ It feels like it's been a super long time since I wrote an author note. But

I'm pretty sure I did this last week. lol

Anyway, I'm going on Hiatus!

I'm kidding, of course. I'm just going to switch from posting on Thursdays/Sundays/Both  → Fridays/Tuesdays/Both.

There is no deep reason for this change. My Day Off at work has just changed cuz a coworker swapped with me. They treated me to a drink too, so I naturally did not refuse.

He had a pretty good reason too — it coincided with his new girlfriend's day off.

I hope his relationship goes well, but I also hope he steps on a lego or his sneeze gets interrupted once.

This change will be effective starting with the next chapter.

Anyway, here's the chapteroni. It's a long one...

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

'Question is, how am I gonna cheer him up? Or rather, what's he upset about anyway? It's not like this is the first time he got the crap beaten out of him...'

As Reivan pondered, Hector looked toward him and sighed.

The pitiful boy pushed off the grass and squatted on the ground right next to Reivan. "Did you... see?"

"Yep. I did."

"Since when?"

"From around the part where you got slammed in the stomach. Then got told off for being too obvious."

Hector frowned, his head hung low. "You got here at the worst part..."

Reivan chuckled while elbowing his friend. "From my point of view, every part I saw was pretty bad."

His joke must not have been well received, since Hector only let out a sluggish chuckle.

'Wow. He must be really bummed out, huh?'

Over the course of their friendship, the two had grown to be rather blunt with each other, voicing their opinions without remorse or restraint. Of course, both of them knew that the other never meant any harm, so they would always just chuckle or playfully act hurt. In fact, they sometimes competed on who could come up with better insults.

Basically, their love language was verbally abusing the other.

Reivan knew the limits, of course. He would never go so far as to bring up the fact that the twins were orphans, or that they weren't very well received by the majority of their household.

As for Hector's weakness relative to him and Helen, Reivan had lightly joked about that as well. Hector hadn't reacted strongly back then, which was a testament to how serious the current situation was.

'Alright, play time's over I guess.'

Reivan banished all thoughts of kidding around for now. A somber expression was on his face as he asked. "Are you okay?"

Hector rolled his eyes and ran a finger through the grass, plucking a handful up before staring blankly at his harvest. "I don't know."

"You're upset."

"Wow." Hector threw a glance at him, grinning. "Thanks for telling me. You're really good at saying the obvious."

"You wanna talk about it?" Reivan reached out and placed a palm on his friend's shoulder, doing his best to appear comforting.

All he got for it was getting stared at like a weirdo though.

"Why are you being so weird..." Hector grimaced, pushed Reivan's hand away, and stood up. "What's there to talk about? I'm a disappointment. That's pretty much it."

"Hey, that's not true. Don't say that..."

Hector stubbornly shook his head, starting to walk away. "You wouldn't understand, Van. Everyone thinks highly of you."

'You have no idea how wrong you are...'

Reivan's lips formed a sad smile when he recalled how, in his past life, his parents hadn't even visited him once while he was stuck in the hospital. Perhaps he would never truly understand what it meant to disappoint people, but he was used to a similar — if not worse — emotion.

Indifference.

If Hector was a disappointment, that at least meant that people expected things from him. On the other hand, his previous parents simply had no such expectations or interest in him.

Naturally, Reivan wouldn't start some sort of contest for who had the most pitiful childhood. And even if he won such a contest, lording it over someone was like hitting himself in the face.

'He probably won't listen as he is right now. I sure as hell know I wouldn't.'

Was it a multiversal fact that teenagers were angsty and prone to thinking that nobody understood them? Anyway, Reivan knew he had to do things a bit differently if he wanted his friend to listen.

"Hey! Catch."

Hector turned back around at the prince's shout, only for his eyes to widen as he barely caught the spear that had been tossed at him. "Hey, what's the big idea...? You almost hit me in the face, man."

Reivan ignored his protests and stood up, procuring a blunted practice sword from his storage ring.

"Fight me."

"What are you..."

"Fight me, Hector."

Without further warning, Reivan charged forward, his sword aiming for the top of Hector's head.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Hector barely managed to sidestep Reivan's surprise attack, his face paling at the wind produced by the prince's blade passing by his face.

"Hey! Wha— Whoah...!" Barely able to get a word in, Hector was forced to block Reivan's follow-up attack.

"I won't use my specials like usual." Reivan grinned ferociously. "Try to keep up!"

'My hand's gone numb! This stupidly strong moron's serious!'

Hector knew that he wouldn't last long if fought the royal brute at such a close range. With a grunt, he momentarily exploded with strength as he forcefully pushed Reivan away. A second later, concentrated wind burst out of the soles of his boots, propelling him upward — just in time to avoid getting skewered by spikes of ice lancing out from below the ground.

'That was too close!'

Once again, air blasted out from his feet, bringing Hector up even higher. With a twist of his body, Hector used the mobility aetherblade art called <<Gale Rush>> once again, but this time, moving sideways.

"You look like a superhero right now, man," Reivan commented dryly as he looked up at him. "Not quite like the man of steel himself though."

'He's talking about weird things again... Anyway, I just gotta stay away!'

Past sparring sessions made it obvious that the best way for him to deal with Reivan was by keeping his distance and finding an opening — and that was exactly what Hector intended to do.

Unfortunately, Reivan was only slightly less dangerous at long range.

A sound akin to thousands of birds chirping filled the garden as Reivan's left hand glowed so bright that Hector could no longer see it. The prince then raised his arm, palm pointed at Hector.

'Here it comes...!'

Without hesitation, Hector preemptively threw his spear as a sacrifice to stall the massive arc of lightning Reivan would fire at him.

A bright flash blinded Hector and a loud boom soon followed to shatter his eardrums. He barely managed to wrench his eyes open, just in time for him to see his spear become a charred piece of wood.

'You wasted a perfectly good spear, man!'

Feeling slightly annoyed, Hector procured a new spear from his ring and imbued it with his magic power. His forehead creased in focus as he activated an aetherblade art he'd just learned — an incredibly simple art that any self-respecting knight from the Mercer clan learns eventually.

An art that had the potential to pierce anything depending on who used it — <<Zephyr's Impaler>>.

'Take this, you battle junky...!'

Reivan — who'd just expended a considerable amount of magic power — gaped at the sight before smiling, his teeth bared. With a roar, Reivan's entire body was covered in lightning as the edge of his sword glowed brightly with purple light.

Then he bent his knees and jumped.

"Wha—!" Hector's eyes widened at his friend's foolhardiness.

'What the hell are you doing!?'

Forgetting the fact that Reivan probably had a guard, Hector instinctively reached out in warning. However, he'd infused most of his mana in <<Zephyr's Impaler>>, so it was arguably the fastest and strongest attack he had in his arsenal. With Reivan charging forward to meet it halfway, there was no way he could do anything before the two forces clashed.

But it seemed as if he needn't have worried, since with a mighty swing, the blade of Reivan's blade collided with the tip of the spear. A fraction of a second's resistance later, the spear was cut in half.

"You're not the only one with new moves! Wahahaha!" Reivan guffawed victoriously right before he started to freefall back to the ground, the lightning coating his body gone.

'Bastard...'

Rather than being depressed like earlier, Hector just wanted to chuck something at the guy's face.

Luckily, he just so happened to keep multiple practice spears inside his storage ring.

"Shut up!" Hector took one out and hurled it once again. The throw wasn't even an aetherblade art. Just a spear throw infused with all the mana he had left.

It was simple, unrefined, and most knights would likely shake their heads at its primitive nature. But it was all Hector could muster at the moment.

And anyway, Reivan wouldn't be able to dodge this one easily in this state.

As expected, the prince's face paled at the sight. "How many spears do you keep in there...!?"

"A lot!" Hector called back with a grin of his own, only to blanch when he started freefalling too.

'I'm out of mana...'

Unlike an Ascendant who could fly for free, Hector needed to constantly propel himself upward at regular intervals just to stay in the air. Naturally, there were more refined ways to stay in the air as a mortal — especially as one with the wind attribute — but unfortunately, he needed an insane amount of magic power control.

Additionally, the manuals for those techniques were never available for borrowing! He couldn't even learn it if he did have the skills to try.

'I hope Sir Valter will catch me...'

On the off chance that Reivan came to the manor alone, Hector was certainly in for a world of pain from such a high fall. Too worried about how many bones he'd break, Hector didn't have the leeway to watch if his attack landed or not.

"Aaaaaah!" Hector finally couldn't take it anymore and started screaming for help. "Someone catch me!"

It seemed that his pleas were heard as his body roughly landed on a somewhat hard surface. The wind was blown out of his lungs from the impact, but he sat up and looked around.

"Oh, it's Zouros." Hector broke into a smile and patted the massive black serpent he was sitting on. "Thanks, big guy."

He got a hiss and a nod in response before the winged snake picked him up with its tail and plopped him down on the grass right next to Reivan — who was smiling in a smug manner.

"I win," the prince said, almost gloatingly so.

Hector chuckled but surprisingly wasn't too upset about it since he'd expected this outcome. It didn't feel right to just let his friend get away with it though, so he put on a smirk as he shook his head in feigned exasperation.

"Van, you truly are the best friend anyone can have. Only you would see your friend clearly upset about something, then beat him up before gloating."

Reivan obviously didn't like that. "Hey, for your information, I was trying to cheer you up."

"Are you stupid? Beating someone up is not how you cheer them up."

"You say that, but have you looked at yourself?" Reivan crossed his arms and grinned.

Hector instinctively reached up to touch his face, realizing that he'd been smiling.

'Well, now that I think about it...'

"See?" The prince sneered but then he suddenly changed the subject. "Anyway, that was a pretty cool move back there. It was honestly a bit scary to face that spear throw head-on when I'm not using any of my boosts. Anyway, that was a House Mercer exclusive, right?"

Hector grew excited when the talk switched to something he liked. "Yep. It's called <<Zephyr's Impaler>>! I don't know who this Zephyr is, but apparently, the first king named this aetherblade art."

"Why am I not surprised..." Reivan muttered.

"And you know what?" Hector barely heard his friend's words but ignored them in favor of boasting about the move he worked so hard to learn. "Even though it's a basic spear-throwing art, even Ascendant knights from our clan still use it! It's cuz there's so much room for it to grow depending on the person's skills! One day, mine's gonna be so strong it'd pierce straight through the Sword Star's mountain!"

"Even if you could do that, don't just decide to put a hole there... you could hit someone by accident!"

"I know, I know..."

"I'm serious, y'know? Lots of crazy strong people are there. Even a certain bald old man frequents that place!"

"Anyway, speaking of new moves..."

"Listen to me...!"

"What's that one called? The one where there was electricity all over your body! Oh, and the other one too!"

"You're not listening..." Reivan sighed and seemed to give up on Hector. Soon though, a boyish grin graced his face. "Mine was called <<Force>>. Actually, Helen learned it too. It only lasts a few seconds, but you get a big boost in physical prowess. Your muscles turn to mush afterward though, so it's meant to be used to finish the enemy off quickly. I don't have to worry too much about that though, since I can kinda heal myself."

"What about the other one? Your sword got weird."

"Don't say it got weird," the prince complained but still gave an explanation. "That one was called <<Spellblade>>. It's mainly used to give a blade some extra edge, but it also doubles as a way to dismantle aetherblade arts or spells when used correctly. It's actually an art reserved for active-duty knights. I got it a bit early since I'm royalty though."

"That's not fair to other people..."

"I'll lend you the scroll."

Hector immediately perked up. "Works for me!"

Aetherblade arts were one of their favorite topics, so their conversation seemed to go without end. However, it seemed Reivan still had other plans, so he stood up.

"Sorry. I have a few appointments to get to."

"That's fine. Thanks for coming over." Hector also got up while patting his butt. "Let's hang out sometime."

"For sure." Reivan nodded with a smile, but then his expression turned serious. "Are you okay now?"

Hector was slightly caught off guard by the question, but after thinking about it for a second, he nodded. "I think so."

"Good."

"What would you have done if I said no?"

Reivan shrugged. "Beat you up some more."

"Don't you have some other way to cheer someone up? Violence isn't always the answer — at least, that's what some of my big bros from the clan say."

"It's definitely the quickest way though."

"You're a brute."

The two shared a laugh before Reivan reached out and put his arm around Hector's shoulder.

"Hector, I don't want you to take this the wrong way. But you shouldn't be too hard on yourself, alright?"

"Heh." Hector chuckled wryly. "Sure..."

"I'm serious here, man. There's a difference between pushing yourself and downing yourself. It ain't okay when your thoughts stray toward the latter."

'That's easy for you to say...'

Hector tried to listen to his friend, knowing full well that Reivan meant well. But dark thoughts were bubbling up when he remembered the frustration of being left in the dust.

"Hey, Van..." Hector looked toward his friend, staring deep into the prince's bright golden eyes. "How are you so strong...?"

"Well if you ask me that..." Reivan scratched his cheek and thought for a bit before giving an answer. "I suppose I just try hard."

'Obviously. Even I can see that...'

He didn't doubt Reivan's words at all, but Hector was convinced that he worked hard too.

And yet, why were the results so different?

Seemingly seeing through his thoughts, Reivan stepped away from Hector and lightly punched him on the shoulder. "I think you're comparing yourself to the wrong people."

"The wrong people...?"

"Yep. How many people are a mix of two different species?"

"Uh." Hector frowned, thinking about it for a bit before shaking his head. "I only know one. And that's you."

"Uh-huh. Changing the subject, you understand that I was born with a lot of weird abilities, right?"

"Well, yeah..."

"And how often do you think people with even a single special ability are born?"

"Not very often, probably."

"Right?" Reivan laughed. "And you're comparing yourself to someone who was lucky enough to be born with five of them. Plus I'm blessed with some good things from both of my races. And I'm a prince, in case you forgot. Don't take this the wrong way, man. But there's no chance in hell you'll improve at the same rate I do. There's something wrong with the world if you could."

'Well, he has a point...'

"What about Helen though?"

"That, my friend," Reivan pointed a finger at the sky and wiggled it. "Is a question I have no answer to. She's crazy even without a special ability, but then she has two — though one of them's kinda useless. All in all, your sister's a monstrous weirdo that shouldn't be used as the standard for anything."

Hector broke out into a fit of laughter. Reivan was probably one of the only people in the world Hector allowed to call his sister a monster.

"I mean, I like her, but she gets strong way too fast. You cannot possibly think that's normal, right?"

"Well yeah..."

"So you agree!" Reivan grabbed him by the shoulders and started shaking him. "This is what I mean when I say you're comparing yourself to the wrong people! Helen and I are weirdos, man. We are absolutely not normal."

"S-s-stop shaking me!"

Hector felt his brain bounce around in his skull. Luckily, the shaking stopped before anything bad could happen.

"Hector." Reivan looked him in the eye, his gaze sharp. "You underestimate yourself. How many people our age do you think could force me to use <<Dragonbolt>>, <<Force>>, and <<Spellblade>>?"

"Uh..." Hector instinctively thought back to a few weeks ago.

After the first spar with the knights, Donovan invited Hector to join from time to time. Reivan and Helen were pretty much banned, mostly sparring with each other instead. But Hector had the opportunity to test his skills against his peers — and even a few cadets that were slightly older than him.

'If it's those guys...'

They wouldn't stand a chance against the current Reivan.

Although infrequent, Hector also sparred with a held-back Reivan. Which was why he knew that Reivan had changed tremendously from the time he'd gotten socked in the face by a cadet.

The beastly prince's physical abilities hadn't changed at all, but the integration of aetherblade arts had spurred the advantages to new heights. In addition, Reivan's battle senses and instincts were high from the start, so it only became more difficult to face him.

So, going back to Reivan's question...

"I don't really know anyone who could."

"Heh." Reivan seemingly couldn't help but sniff in pride before nodding. "Right? I'm pretty great."

"... You want an award or something?"

"Shut up. Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is that Helen and I are the top percentile — the cream of the crop with an additional sprinkle of divine radiance. You could even say were blessed by the gods or something. Whatever drills the idea into your head better."

Reivan then poked Hector's chest with his finger.

"And you are the one directly below us."

Hector's eyes widened as he started to realize where Reivan was going with this.

"If Helen and I are the strongest and the second strongest in our age..." Reivan pushed the finger further, forcing Hector to step back. "You are the third strongest. If you ask me, that's pretty high up there. Especially when you consider just how many thirteen-year-old brats are out there."

'The third...'

Hector gulped at the thought. It was undoubtedly something to be happy about, and Hector came to wonder why he never realized it.

"You're plenty amazing, man." Reivan smiled as he patted Hector on the shoulder. "And I'm sure you'll catch up with us eventually."

Hector scoffed, shaking his head. "Heh. Yeah right..."

"I'm serious. No matter how fast we run, we'll hit a wall eventually. And then it'll take us decades, maybe even centuries or millennia to overcome them. S'long as you keep trudging forward steadily, you'll catch up."

'That's way too long.'

Still the thought that it could happen raised Hector's spirits. He looked his friend in the eye and grinned. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. As you said earlier, I'm really good at stating the obvious."

"Pff. I did say that."

The two shared a laugh as they started walking out of the garden through a staircase built into one side of the walls around them.

"Anyway," Reivan strode forward, making his way up the steps ahead of Hector. "If you ever need cheering up, just lemme know. Friends are only useful for these kinds of things, so I hope you'll make use of me as you see fit."

"Thanks, I'll do that. I don't agree with your last statement though. They're also useful when you have no money."

"I stand corrected. Jokes aside, there are plenty of people you can talk to about these things too. Sister Stella, those big bros you talked about... probably not Helen though, since she'd just try to cheer you up with food. Or in a no-holds-barred fight. Heck, she's not here all the time, but couldn't you talk to the Matriarch too? I think she likes you."

Hector froze in his tracks for a moment, before he resumed climbing upward — but at a slower pace this time.

"You need to get your eyes fixed, Van."

"My eyes are perfectly fine, you moron. And they can see through a lot of things. Trust me on this. Why do you think we never get scammed at the night market?"

Doubt still filled Hector's heart as he hesitantly muttered. "She doesn't like me. At all."

Reivan snorted. "You think she came all the way here from the frontlines just so she could waste time on a brat she didn't like?"

Hector grew flustered at the thought. "B-but..."

"She even gave you all sorts of advice too. Advice that's specially tailored to you — from one of the strongest Ascendants in Aizen, at that — isn't something anyone can get, y'know? As expected, having family in high places is the best. We should make a golden spoon club or something."

"B-but you heard her, right? The way she talked and looked at me..."

"Hm?" Reivan grunted. "What about it? I didn't see or hear anything particularly weird."

"You must've seen how disappointed she was in me, right!? She was... she was comparing me to you guys and everything!"

"Uhhh..." Reivan stopped and glanced back at him. "Were we listening to the same thing? I don't think she ever said anything like that."

Hector thought back, realizing that he'd unconsciously talked about something he shouldn't. Even he knew that he'd sound like a crazy person if he ever told anyone that he heard voices in his head.

Seeking to fix things, Hector spluttered. "Sh-she never said it directly. But I know that's what she meant."

It wasn't a lie since he was convinced that the Matriarch hid those thoughts behind her words.

"You're definitely overthinking things, man." Reivan shook his head in exasperation. Seemingly giving up on him, the prince shrugged and resumed climbing up the stairs while muttering to himself. "Miscommunication really is a scary thing~ Maybe Helen was so bad at talking cuz it runs in the family. She definitely got it from the Duchess — only that girl's case was slightly exaggerated."

The walls were stone and the two boys were quite close with each other, so Hector naturally heard Reivan's mutters.

Not that the silver-haired prince intended to hide it anyway.

'Am I really... just overthinking...? Was it all in my head?'

Reivan's words made Hector realize that there were plenty of similarities between his sister and the Matriarch. Perhaps he simply never noticed it because he rarely ever saw the Duchess, and her presence was always so intense that he was pretty much always anxious in her company.

Usually quiet but had a sharp and unrestrained mouth that hurled harsh words but hid kind intentions underneath. An expressionless face that masked a myriad of emotions behind it. And overwhelming skill in combat.

'Are they... really alike?'

Hector's perception of the fearsome Duchess was gradually crumbling from Reivan's mutterings.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

'God, look at this guy...'

Reivan secretly shot his friend a glance as he climbed up the winding staircase, inwardly remarking on how much Hector resembled a sad puppy. He'd tried his best to raise Hector's spirits, and though it did seem to work, Reivan failed to bring him back to his usual state — a stupid kid who happily did stupid things together with him.

'I've tried everything. Anything more than this will come off as too preachy. Well, I guess I've already been pretty preachy...'

In any case, he had to find another way to cheer up his friend.

'How did people in a medieval fantasy world cheer up a sad friend again...?'

The first thing his horny mind came up with was to take Hector to a brothel. Nothing raised a man's spirits more than a woman, after all. And in the isekais he'd read, there were few modes of entertainment.

But that plan was immediately scrapped for very obvious reasons. He also didn't know how his family would react to him going to such an establishment.

'Oh, wait a minute. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever heard of brothels existing in Aizen...'

Reivan filed this away as something he had to lightly investigate later — while Valter was away, of course. But his first dumb idea quickly gave birth to a slightly less dumb idea.

The prince smirked evilly as he spoke.

"Hey, Hector. You're coming with me to Starwater City. No buts."

Reivan decided to kidnap Hector.

Arc#3 Chapter 53: The Mercer Manor

"Hey, wake up." Reivan poked Helen's cheek as she lay atop Zouros' body, cradled by its wings.

"Mmrhm..." Helen murmured incomprehensible things with a frown, pushing his hand away. Even after multiple prods, she still wouldn't wake up.

'She sleeps like a dead person, I swear to the Sun God...'

Reivan shrugged and then looked toward Zouros. "Nothing to it. Just let her down easy."

The winged serpent nodded and hissed before setting Helen down on a bed inside one of the palace guest rooms.

Despite being perfectly clean and orderly, this particular guest room already had vestiges of personalization by way of a few clothes inside the wardrobe, spare training gear propped against the walls, and an assortment of trinkets and baubles.

Basically, it was a "guest room" reserved for Helen — who visited very frequently, to the point that a few people actually had the misconception that she lived in the palace. His family had recently started debating on whether to make it her actual room in the palace, but opinions seemed to be mixed at the moment, so they held off on it.

Reivan grinned as he watched the little genius shift to a more comfortable position on the bed, falling into a deeper sleep. He tucked her in a bit more securely, arranged the pillows to act as a barricade to stop her from rolling off, then put footstools around the bed in case she rolled off of it anyway.

Satisfied, Reivan made his way out of the room with Zouros disappearing in a puff of smoke.

Just outside the room was a cloaked man with his hood covering most of his face. He stood as straight as a sword and performed a knightly salute once Reivan stepped out of the room.

Naturally, the suspiciously dressed person wasn't some intruder.

"Hello, sir." Reivan smiled at the Mercer family knight tasked with secretly watching over Helen. "I'll have to ask you to escort her back home when she wakes up in maybe an hour."

"But of course, Your Highness."

"Don't let her find out though, since she still thinks she's going around all alone."

"Understood."

Reivan turned around and left down the hallway, giving the knight one last friendly wave as he turned a corner.

Once he was far enough away, Reivan called out to his shadow. "You there, Valter?"

"Yes, Your Highness." a familiar voice answered.

"Great. I'd like to head over to the House Mercer's manor for a bit. I'm gonna drop off a present for Hector. My best buddy just won first place in a talent show, so what kind of friend would I be if I don't celebrate with him?"

Valter chuckled. "I suppose so. I hope he likes your gift."

"He better like it. I spent so much money on this!"

"What about Miss Helen? We can take her with us..."

"It's fine. She'll probably end up staying over anyway. Last time we took her back while she slept, she got pretty annoyed."

"Oh, did she?"

"Yep. I saw it in her eyes. Anyway, let's leave her here and go!"

With a wide grin on his face, a black puddle of sludge suddenly erupted from the floor to swallow him whole.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"Hello, I'm the second prince. Here to visit Hector." Reivan waved at the guards stationed on either side of the gate to House Mercer's manor. "I would appreciate it if you let me in."

The guards' shock was all but apparent when a teenage boy suddenly appeared out of nowhere, but they all regained their senses once they gazed upon Reivan's very distinguishable features — particularly, his hair and eyes. Most likely, the aura of a royal armament also helped validate his identity.

"Your Highness! Of course! House Mercer welcomes you!"

"Thank you, sir." Reivan nodded to them before he casually walked through the opened gates. The immaculately clean and tidy path to the massive manor was the same as the last time he saw it, though a few of the knightly statues placed on either side of the path had a slightly brighter sheen to it, signifying that he'd arrived just after they'd been cleaned for the umpteenth time this week.

'They must be new or something. Never seen their faces before...'

He'd frequented the manor enough to know maybe ninety percent of the knights who always got stuck with guard duty. The fact they didn't open the gates immediately made things apparent to him.

'Must be cuz all the veterans are at Fort Alexander with the Duchess, huh? I guess the Empire's really flexing some muscle. Well, anyway...'

Reivan turned toward the first servant he saw upon entering the Manor proper. "Good afternoon ma'am. Can you tell me where I might find Hector?"

Unlike the newby guards, the servants were all familiar with him from all the times he'd visited. After telling him his friend's location, they all left him to his own devices since he didn't like being tailed by a long line of people.

"The Hekarias Garden, huh..." Reivan crossed his arms and rubbed his chin, thinking about the garden named after the founder of House Mercer.

'I've heard about it and know where it is, but I've never been there before... I wonder what he's doing up there?'

Reivan couldn't think of a viable explanation, so he shrugged and made his way deeper into the large manor.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The Hekarias Garden was a rooftop garden placed in the middle of the entire manor. There were four entrances, one on each of the towers placed in the ordinal directions; northwest, northeast, southeast, and southwest. The garden itself was closed off on all sides by thick walls, forming a square with the towers at its corners.

Reivan thought of an apt description for it within seconds though — it was like a massive fighting pit.

Despite being called a garden, the greenery was sparse aside from the grass and a few trees dotting the garden's rims. There were no flowers, fruits, or artistically trimmed hedges — only a bunch of knight statues forming a square in the middle of the garden.

For all intents and purposes, it simply looked like someone's backyard, complete with a medieval fantasy version of a garden gnome.

'I suppose a "roof-yard" is a better term for this place.'

With the ducal house of Mercer's militant nature in mind, it didn't take long for Reivan to surmise that this "garden" was mainly used as a training ground of sorts.

Even from afar, Reivan could already hear the liveliness of battle. The dull sounds of wood against wood, wood against flesh, and wood against bone filled his ears as he made his way to the edge of the elevated "viewing platforms".

Naturally, the one training below was Hector.

'Oof. He looks like he got the shit beaten out of him...'

Reivan leaned against the fancy marble railings, doing his best to stay quiet as he observed Hector repeatedly attempt to strike a mature woman who looked as if she was an older version of Stella.

The woman's silky black hair was neatly braided and pinned in a bun at the back of her head, revealing her fair and youthful complexion. Her black knightly attire fit her lithe body perfectly, neither too tight nor too loose. If it wasn't for the stern expression that seemed to have been permanently etched on her face, she would have been the perfect example of a cool beauty.

'Oh, shit. She was back in the capital...!?'

Reivan couldn't care less about her appearance though. Instantly recognizing her as Duchess Sarina Mercer, Reivan's lips pursed on their own, reinforcing his ability to stay silent.

'I don't think anyone ever mentioned that the duchess trained Hector — or anyone, for that matter...'

Even before she went off to reinforce the border with Argonia, the Duchess was known for being busy with important endeavors outside of macromanaging House Mercer — including scouting out the eastern sea and attempting to become the Kingdom's second Transcendent.

Nonetheless, it was a very good thing for his friend that the matriarch of their household was taking an interest in him. As such, Reivan asked Valter to help him conceal his presence and resolved to watch them for now.

'Now, I gotta see this. Maybe I'll learn something even though I don't have the wind affinity...'

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"Hah!" Hector yelled as he lunged forward with his spear, aiming for the woman's throat — only to smoothly shift his spear midway and aim for her heart instead. The speartip soundlessly pierced through the air to skewer the woman like Helen's favorite street food.

It was an impressive feint for one so young, but the woman did not fall for it as she deflected the youth's spear with a glaive and struck him in the stomach with its butt.

Even though the matriarch obviously held back a lot, Hector's vision still blurred from the pain. Before he noticed, he was down on all fours with a pair of lungs desperately crying out for air and tears of pain gushing out of his eyes.

"Your attacks are too telegraphed." The matriarch commented, her glaive pointed to the ground as she stood before him with calm and stillness. "Lessen the wind-ups. Don't put too much weight into your strikes, lest you hinder your own mobility. Use the wind to compensate."

"U-understood."

"Get up. Now."

"Y-yes... Matriarch..." Hector squeezed out a response and struggled to get up, wiping off the drool on his lips with his sleeve. He got into position and tried again, utilizing the aetherblade art he'd been practicing for the past week.

But no matter what he did, none of it ever satisfied the duchess.

Ten attempts later and Hector lay collapsed on the ground, his breathing rough. His mana pool was nowhere near as depleted as his stamina reserves, but getting thrown around understandably sapped him of his mental strength as well. Despite his fatigue though, he didn't dare stay in such an unsightly position in front of the family head for too long — so he at least tried to sit up in a cross-legged position.

"I suppose that's it." The duchess sighed as she sprinkled something on Hector, instantly healing his injuries. She then turned around, her face solemn. "Get some rest."

"W-wai—!" Hector couldn't even say anything, his throat too dry to utter words. "I can still...!"

"Still what?" Her words cut him off sharply. "Do not push yourself too much. You are not your sister."

"But—"

"I said that's enough, Hector Mercer." She threw him a glance, shutting him up once and for all. "This is your current limit. These things take time. If you're lucky, you will grow up to be someone of use to His Highness — to this kingdom. But that's in the future."

Hector gritted his teeth in frustration, but he dared not speak out, merely nodding in compliance.

After taking one last look at him, the duchess departed without another word, but Hector heard her unspoken thoughts loud and clear.

"Is this the extent of your capabilities?"

"Know your place and accept your limitations."

"You're nothing like your sister."

"Despite your proximity to the second prince, you remain bereft of his brilliance."

"Will you be of any use to the prince — to us — at all?"

Hector's fingers dug into the grass, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. Countless whispers filled his mind, telling him how he wasn't enough.

How he would never be enough.

'What... must I do...?'

It wasn't as though he hadn't given his all.

He trained more than the other kids in the household, immersed himself in studies even though he hated it so much, and embraced new skills without hesitation. All for the sake of becoming someone worthy of everyone's acceptance.

The calluses and blisters in his body, the tattered books in his trunk, and the various other tools and manuals laying around in his room — all of them were proof that he wasn't just slacking around.

Sure he went out with his friends on occasion, but was that really such a bad thing? Reivan and Helen goofed off just as much, if not more than he did.

'So why...'

Why was he being left behind? Why could he not live up to the expectations of those around him?

A myriad of questions tormented him, gnawing at his very soul. But all he could do right now was wallow in self-hatred as he contemplated his own worth.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

'I don't think I was supposed to see this...'

Reivan's brows furrowed as he looked down at his best friend, staring blankly at the grass after the duchess vanished.

"Welcome to our humble abode, Your Highness." Sarina Mercer spoke from behind Reivan, causing his shoulders to jump. She took a knee and lowered her head. "Forgive me for not paying my respects sooner, I didn't notice you until just now."

"Please, Your Grace. You don't need to do this." Reivan helped her up with a crooked grin. The Duchess was always like this — she was the only one to forgo the Aizenian salute in favor of kneeling and bowing.

This greatly troubled Reivan, since he felt itchy all over his body to have such an important person being so... subservient to him, much more than any ordinary knight was. Sarina Mercer's loyalty was a well-known fact already, but he still couldn't get used to its intensity and avoided her when fortune allowed.

Acquiescing to his request, the Duchess straightened up and spoke calmly. "Thank you, Your Highness."

"It's not something to be grateful for..." Reivan smiled wryly, seeking a change of subject. "By the way, I did not hear of your return to the capital. I'm assuming the border with the empire is fine...?"

Aizen had three main "forts" with hundreds of knights stationed in them at all times, and one of them was overseen by House Mercer — particularly, the one at the middle of the mountain range that walled off Aizen from the rest of Sentorale, Fort Alexander.

'They call it a fort but...'

If one were to get into semantics, a fort was merely a relatively small fortified structure in medieval times that could hold a few hundred men or so. Strongholds, on the other hand, were much better and larger, with castles being the undisputed best.

This made the ignorant envision something unimpressive when they heard of "The Three Forts of Aizen Kingdom", but they could not be more wrong. The only reason the forts were still called forts, was purely because the crown wished to preserve the historical names of these ancient fortifications — especially since they were named by the first king of Aizen himself.

In truth, the three forts of Aizen had grown to the size of a small city, able to house tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of people if they didn't mind being squeezed together like sardines. Even if Aizen pooled together all of its knights, they could all comfortably live in just one of the three fortresses.

Most of its inhabitants were in charge of logistics, doing everything to make sure that the knights could fight at their best and not have to worry about food or clean underwear.

Fort Alexander stood valiantly in the middle of the Wolf's Jaw mountain range, and was charged with guarding the land routes to Aizen. Then Fort Magellan and Fort Sparrow was there to safeguard the sea routes to the east and west.

Reivan instantly knew that his ancestor had named the forts after a famous conqueror and two great sailors — although one of them was fictional.

'She's supposed to be at Fort Alexander since the empire's been more aggressive lately...'

There was an unspoken agreement between the three nations to not send out their Ascendants for light border skirmishes, but the recent aggression had made his father take preemptive measures to make sure they were ready for whatever Argonia had planned.

One of these measures was stationing the Duchess at Fort Alexander, where she could not only secure the land route, but also offer support to the other forts should the need arise.

Her presence here meant that there was a higher chance of a security breach.

Seemingly aware of his concerns, the Duchess bowed slightly. "Everything at the border is fine, just some minor conflicts that we have all won. I made a quick trip to handle some family matters that needed my attention. Of course, I have asked someone quite capable to take my place in the meantime."

"Family matters? You mean with Hector...?"

"One among many, but yes. I have also come to check if a certain foolish girl hasn't eaten through the manor's pantries. And if another foolish girl is living up to her duty to bear children for the royal family."

"I see..." Reivan nodded to himself before gazing into her dark eyes with a smile. "In any case, I hope you don't mind my presence here..."

"There is nowhere in the kingdom that the royal family's feet cannot tread on. Of course, Your Highness is always welcome here. But to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Ah, well, I wanted to give something to Hector before the day ended. I apologize if it's a bit too late in the afternoon..."

"There are naturally no problems." Sarina nodded, gesturing below, at the Hekarias garden where Hector was still staring into the dirt. "I will call—"

"No! It's fine," Reivan interjected in haste. "I prefer going to him. Thank you, Your Grace."

"I see. Then I shan't disturb you any longer, Your Highness."

"Uhm, no, you're not a disturbance at all..."

"It's fine. The presence of an old lady such as myself is unwelcome in a conversation between youths. Furthermore, I have a list of other things I must accomplish before returning to Fort Alexander posthaste. The person I asked cannot fill in for me indefinitely after all. Now, if you'll excuse me."

With one last bow, Sarina Mercer vanished, leaving only a slight breeze where she had just been.

Reivan threw a glance at his shadow with a slight frown on his face. "Valter..."

"Duchess Sarina is one of Aizen's most capable warriors, Your Highness. Furthermore, she is quite frankly the best scout in the order, able to track anything that breathes." The guardian knight offered an excuse before he could be blamed. "I could only hide you for so long. And at such close proximities, it was a given that she would discover you once she stopped focusing on your friend."

Reivan was dubious at first, but he had no choice but to accept the knight's words after not getting a notification that he'd been lied to.

'Hector...'

With the Duchess gone, Reivan's attention returned to his depressed friend. Wasting no time, he climbed over the railing and jumped down.

A fall from such a height wouldn't have meant much in his fully boosted state, but he didn't need to go so far since he could repeatedly summon small floating shields as platforms to break his fall over and over again until his feet were planted firmly on the grass.

Hector hadn't noticed him at all, so Reivan managed to walk right up to his friend and sit down on the grass beside him.

"Hey, ugly. What's wrong with your face?"

For now, he would do his best to cheer up his best friend.

Arc#3 Chapter 52: Friendly Benefits

[Author's Note]

Hello~!

For anyone who has diabetes, kindly prepare yourself because I added a bit of sugar to this chapter. lol

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! And thank you once again for the continued support!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

When Reivan woke up, the beautiful orange sky was the first thing he saw.

And then he saw Helen’s pretty face staring down at him — a bit too closely, he noted.

‘What…’

Reivan pushed her face away and quickly regained his bearings, seeing nothing strange around him. The grass was still immaculately trimmed and maintained, having been protected from their spar by Valter's energy. There were hedges that resembled walls and fruit trees somewhat farther out.

Soon, though, he realized that Zouros had already returned to its usual spot within his soul. With the lack of contact between his head and the grass, plus the fact that Helen was staring down at him, Reivan surmised that he was using the girl’s lap as a pillow at the moment.

Again.

He was using her lap as a pillow again.

Both of them didn’t mind physical contact anymore, so Reivan didn’t rush to sit up like the first time.

“Are you topped up?” he asked.

“Mhm.” Helen nodded, her hand gently stroking his hair — an act she liked to do with his mother’s fur too. “About an hour ago.”

“Huh. And how long have you been awake?”

“About an hour ago.”

“Uh-huh.”

‘So fast…’

Reivan was once again slapped in the face with the fact that compared to warbeasts and hybrids like him, humans not only had a bigger mana pool — they also regenerated their magic power faster. Even though they had both depleted their magic power at about the same time, Helen had fully recovered already while Reivan still had about a quarter left.

‘I really need to find a way to deal with this racial weakness…’

Ideally, he wished to find some kind of medicine that recovered magic power. That way, he could mass-produce a higher-quality version of it for the kingdom of Aizen. Sadly, that was out of the question since even old man Rolf had never heard of such a thing, only saying that the higher-ups in Arkhan's Spirit Tower knew something.

Luckily, with all the downsides of his lineage, having a trace of warbeast heritage had its advantages too. Otherwise, he really wouldn’t have a choice but to cry out in injustice.

‘Anyway…’

“Did you learn that aetherblade art I told you about yesterday?” Reivan yawned as he gazed up at her.

“I did.” Helen took out a long metallic tube and placed it on his chest. “Here’s the scroll back. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

He quickly stowed it away and nudged her lap with his head. “Show me. Hurry, hurry.”

Helen nodded before she hovered her forefinger above Reivan’s face. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes in focus before purple cracks appeared on her finger. The root-like cracks pulsed with light, seemingly in tune with Helen's heartbeat.

'So close!'

Reivan grimaced as he grabbed her wrist and pushed it away a little.

A moment later, it was as if her finger vanished, replaced by a constantly flickering clump of electricity in the shape of her finger. Conventional physics wouldn’t have been able to explain how electric currents could maintain a form on its own.

But this was a supernatural phenomenon.

After about five seconds, Helen’s finger returned to normal. She bent forward and brought her face a little too close. “How was it? Did I do well?”

Seeing the desire for praise hidden beneath her expressionless face, Reivan smirked and nodded. “Yep. You’re amazing.”

‘She really went and learned it…’

The aetherblade art that Helen had shown him was dubbed the “Lightning Transformation Art” and was one of the more complex lightning attribute arts in the royal archives. Despite it's difficulty, every knight compatible with the lightning attribute eventually learned the art, though the age at which they learned it differed.

It quite literally transformed one’s body into lightning energy, pushing the efficiency of magic power when using lightning-based techniques far past what was normally possible — all while becoming invulnerable to physical attacks and moving faster than normal lightning.

Sure, what Helen demonstrated may not have looked impressive, but soon enough, she would be able to use the technique on her entire body. At that point, all the strategies he had thought up to beat Helen would become obsolete.

‘Heh. And I’m the one who gave her the technique, so it's technically my fault if she beats my ass next time…’

Not that it mattered. Helen was an ally, so her rising prowess was something to celebrate. And besides, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t stand to benefit from it as well.

“Again. Do it again.” Reivan’s unblinkingly stared at his friend’s finger, his focus unwavering.

“Okay.” Helen acquiesced, performing the technique again. She seemed quite happy by his earlier praise.

“Hmm…” The young prince hummed in thought, his eyes narrowed. He raised a finger and stared very hard at it, but nothing happened aside from the tip growing slightly hotter. Quite sure that he would be showered in the face with his blood if he continued, Reivan gave up for now.

‘Damn. They weren’t kidding when they said this was crazy hard.’

In fact, the keeper of the scrolls warned him not to try it until he mastered slightly less complex techniques. But Reivan respectfully ignored his advice.

After all, he had one of the best helpers when it came to learning aetherblade arts.

It wasn’t Donovan since that bastard only trained his body and discipline. And although Valter had taught him a lot, the guardian knight wasn’t the best at helping him either.

The lofty title undoubtedly went to the girl who owned the lap he was resting his head on.

“Again,” Reivan requested once more.

But even after multiple tries, he still couldn’t do it. He felt he was getting close though, as if he was just missing one little thing.

Helen yawned and rubbed her eyes before she asked. “Should I do it again?”

“Wait. I’m thinking about something.”

“Like what?”

“What I’m missing. I feel like I can do it, but it’s just not happening for some reason.”

“Uh-huh. Sounds rough.” Helen nodded and took out a flask. She unscrewed the cover and gulped down the contents. Then she offered it to him. “Want some? It's grape juice.”

“Maybe later. Anyway, you got any advice?”

"On whether you should drink grape juice while lying down?"

Reivan rolled his eyes, knowing that this was one of the rare instances the little genius joked around. "No, dummy. Advice on the aetherblade art you just demonstrated.

“Advice…” Helen dodged Reivan's attempt to pinch her cheek, then stared into the orange sky for a few moments, seemingly thinking hard about what to say. Soon enough, her head tilted to the side. “Just do it, I guess?”

“Just… Just do it, huh?”

“Yep. Just do it. That’s what I did.”

‘What the hell was I expecting…’

Despite the title he’d given her in his heart, Helen was, in fact, a horrible teacher.

Maybe it was because plenty of things came naturally to her, or because she was bad with words from the very beginning, but Helen couldn't articulate her thoughts in terms that an ordinary person could understand.

As such, Reivan gave up on doing so. “Just shut up and do it again.”

"Mhm."

‘Let’s just stick to what works, I guess.’

Helen sipped at her grape juice with one hand while demonstrating the lightning transformation art in the other. She even started showing off, doing it with her entire hand instead of just her finger.

“Hmm…” Reivan rubbed his chin, his [Supreme Insight] working on overdrive as he carefully watched her demo. “Can you try to do it for longer than a few seconds? Maybe a minute…”

“I can do that.”

Helen’s confidence was not unfounded, since she really did maintain the technique for one minute. In fact, she would have gone for longer if her magic power hadn’t run out.

‘The consumption is crazy. I guess this technique is meant to be used in short bursts to avoid attacks and to reposition, rather than keeping it in an activated state throughout the battle.’

Helen tapped his forehead, her breathing growing ragged from exhausting her mana pool again. “Switch with me.”

“Sure.”

Reivan got up and allowed Helen to lay her head on his thighs. While she shifted around for a comfortable position, Reivan thought back on what he saw.

‘Since this is an aetherblade art, I unconsciously tried it like all the other ones I learned…’

But through viewing how Helen's mana acted within her arm, he finally discovered what he was doing wrong all this time. With a smile on his lips, Reivan brought a finger up to his face, focusing his mana on just the tip.

‘Normal aetherblade arts have you run magic power through your mana circuits. But this one…’

Feeling slightly apprehensive, Reivan gulped before forcing the mana to reach out beyond his circuits.

“Fu—!” Reivan stuffed his other hand in his mouth to stop himself from cursing.

‘IT HURTS!’

He was no stranger to pain but he couldn’t help but be surprised by the sensation. It felt like a needle was inserted into the space under his nail.

Luckily, Helen had already fallen back to sleep. Otherwise, she would have seen his finger become a bloody mess.

After cleaning up the mess he made and healing himself with [Effect Reproduction], Reivan tried again.

And again.

And again.

And again, and again.

It was only after five tries did he finally see a glimpse of success. It was only for a fraction of a second, but the tip of his finger vanished, replaced by a clump of electricity.

{Minor Success in the [Lightning Transformation Art] has been accomplished!}

‘Let’s fucking go! I did it! I’m a genius!’

Reivan’s smile threatened to split his face in half as he laid his back on the grass. The average knight would have likely spent a few days learning an ordinary aetherblade art. While something complex like the lightning transformation art would have taken roughly a week to an entire month — maybe even more.

And yet, with Helen’s help, it had taken him less than an hour.

‘It really is like cheating…’

For the past few months, Reivan had been exploiting this method to learn dozens of lightning attribute aetherblade arts, as well as a few that didn’t have an attribute.

Basically, he would hand over the scroll with the aetherblade art’s details to Helen overnight. The genius would naturally spend a few minutes reading it and then learn the technique within an hour or two. Then the next day, Reivan would just have Helen show it to him while he watched her closely.

A little bit of trial and error would follow afterward, but he'd usually be successful in learning the technique within the day.

If, for some reason, that wasn't enough, he could just have her repeat the technique and try it for himself an infinite number of times within [Glimpse of Eternity] — that said, he found far better results when doing it in real life.

Of course, this fraudulent method of learning arts only worked because Reivan had [Supreme Insight] to help him.

The fact that it basically granted him the ability to see status screens like he was the main character of some trashy LitRPG story was its most noticeable effect. So much so that one may forget that it had other, more subtle, abilities.

Like giving him the best set of eyes that no amount of money or genetic superiority could obtain. His eyes were so good that they could pierce through the everlasting fog that plagued the Outlands.

And with those eyes, he could see how a genius did things.

‘I wonder what I’ll have her learn next?’

While Reivan tried to remember if there were more aetherblade arts that seemed useful, his hands were suddenly grasped. When he looked down, he saw that Helen had grabbed him in her sleep, her rough and callused palms sandwiching his own.

‘Cute.’

With puberty on the horizon, Helen was growing more and more into a woman. At the moment though, her most prominent features were her shortness and her slightly chubby cheeks — in other words, she appeared nothing more than the adorable child she had always been.

But soon enough, she would surely blossom into a beautiful young woman just like Stella. This also meant that soon enough, their physical intimacy would no longer be viewed as skinship between children.

‘A shame. But it is what it is. Maybe I should start creating distance now, while it’s early.’’

Despite this, Reivan wasn’t going to totally avoid her or anything. First of all, he didn’t have a whole lot of friends. So he would really be kicking himself in the balls if he reduced that number further. There was no reason to stray away from people that made him happy.

Second, Reivan and Helen now had a mutually beneficial relationship that almost seemed like it was crafted by fate.

Reivan learned numerous techniques from working together with Helen. And Helen got access to aetherblade arts she normally wouldn’t have access to because Reivan could bypass all restrictions just by asking his father — or telling his mother to coerce his father. Furthermore, both of their combat skills improved rapidly because of their sparring sessions.

Their close relationship accelerated Helen’s rise to greatness, which was nothing but a good thing for Reivan and the kingdom.

It would be the height of foolishness if he missed out on all the benefits just because he was afraid of what other people thought of them.

‘We’ll probably still spend a lot of time with each other… Well, that’s what we’ve been doing from the start though.’

With a chuckle, Reivan summoned Zouros to help him lift Helen up carefully. He would have loved to wait for her to wake up, but his schedule was packed.

There were just so many things to do!

Reivan had to surprise his other best friend with a gift to celebrate their achievement. After that, he had a dinner appointment with his little sisters at Starwater City.

But that wasn't all. A prince had a great many things to do on the side, even on days he wasn't loaded with royal responsibilities.

One of them was running an underground organization in a foreign country.

Arc#3 Chapter 51: A Healthy Spar

[Author Note]

Hello, hello~ I have recently started to figure out how to format stuff over at Patreon because they don't support tables here. Not even line breaks. Fuck Patreon. Jk. lol.

I love you, Patreon. Don't kick me... And please lower your fees!

Anyway, sorry about being slightly inconsistent with them. Stuff's weird here.

I hope you enjoy the chapter! We have moved forward by one year!

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

Reivan calmly stepped back just in time to avoid Helen’s saber from turning his neck into a stump. Lightning danced around his legs before he leaped back with greater force, creating distance between himself and his monstrous sparring partner.

“Stop running,” Helen grumbled with a frown before a light breeze surrounded her body. Her ponytail danced erratically behind her.

In the blink of an eye, her blade was inches away from Reivan’s face.

‘Why are you always going for my face!?’

Feeling slightly annoyed, Reivan blocked with the vambrace on his left arm while also sending a kick toward her stomach. His own blade was ready to strike her down no matter how she decided to respond.

Perhaps anticipating his counter, Helen’s body moved back as the edge of her saber glowed with green light. With a flourish of her sword, an extremely thin but fast blade of magic power was sent flying toward Reivan, aiming to part his upper body from the lower one.

With practiced ease, the prince held his left hand forward, materializing a small but dense strip of ice floating in front of him.

The sound of glass shattering filled the palace garden as the tiny piece of ice collided perfectly with the thin blade of green magic power, successfully keeping Reivan’s body whole.

‘How’s that!?’

Reivan smirked in pride, having pulled out the trump card he’d been practicing inside [Glimpse of Eternity].

His race meant that despite his superior physical potential, he had a much smaller mana pool than a pure human. That’s why, to save up on the precious resource, Reivan thought to decrease the energy he expended on defense by condensing the wall of ice he usually made, making it smaller but much more resilient.

Of course, this presented the problem that if the wall was too small, the enemy’s attack might pass by and hit him anyway.

But Reivan had all the tools he needed to perfect this technique!

His kinetic vision and reaction time were trained intensively by a certain bald old man after all. Repetitive practice through [Glimpse of Eternity] to help build muscle memory was an overpowered cheat skill for anyone crazy enough to spend so much time training.

‘With this, you’ll have to fight close up!’

Helen had recently evolved her fighting style by weaving ranged attacks whenever she could. Previously, she’d just used her superior speed and rapid omnidirectional movement to overwhelm him with a constant barrage of attacks.

In the end, she must’ve gotten fed up from losing to him all the time, so she upped her game.

“Cool.” Instead of the surprise or frustration he was expecting, Helen wore an expression of interest. “I’ll try to do that too.”

Reivan’s cheek twitched. “... It’s not that easy, okay?”

“Mhm. I’ll have you teach me.”

“...I mean, sure. Why not.”

Helen smiled before wind and lightning danced around her entire body. “Then let’s finish this.”

“Yep.” Reivan knew she would start fighting for real now, so he also got serious.

{Your [Beast Gate] has activated!}

{Might: 100 → 200}

{Bodily Reinforcement through Magic Power application has been detected.}

{Your manipulation of Magic Power has resulted in a Perfection Rate of 50%}

{Perfection Rate becomes 100% due to [Formless Will]!!}

{Your Might has been increased by 300 points.}

{A perfection bonus of 100% has increased the bonus to 600 points.}

{Might: 200 → 800}

{Armament Energy surges through your veins!}

{Your Might has been increased by 300 points}

{Might: 800 → 1100}

Reivan grew drunk with the force he now commanded. But he knew that it was still nothing compared to the monstrous girl in front of him.

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

Helen Mercer

Might: 440 → 2150

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

‘I can never get used to how impossibly high it always gets…’

This past year, Helen’s might had grown from somewhere in the three-hundred twenties… to a whopping four hundred forty.

Her [Overwhelm] — which boosted her by a hundred and fifty percent of her base might stat — added 660 to that, bringing her up to 1100, which was coincidentally Reivan's peak.

Then Qi Reinforcement, Mana Augmentation, and the Armament Energy from the Soul Armament she’d been awarded at some point added another 900 to that, bringing her up to 2000.

And her perfection rate of fifty percent added another 150 to that, giving birth to the ridiculous stat Reivan was looking at.

Despite this, Reivan had never lost against Helen in real life.

Because he wasn’t alone.

“Zouros!” Reivan called out the name of the friend living in his soul.

An extremely dark plume of smoke was released from Reivan’s body, soon forming a massive serpent with a body as thick as the width of a grown man’s shoulder.

Zouros’s forked tongue licked the air as its hissing spread throughout the garden, creeping its way into the minds of all who listened. The serpent’s golden eyes glowed menacingly while the bright rays of the sun provided a stark contrast to the purple light leaking out of the gaps in its scales.

Helen wasn’t the only one who’d experienced a meteoric rise in power over the past year,

After seemingly hibernating for some time, Zouros awoke with a thousand points in its base might and a pair of black feathered wings.

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

Name: Zouros

Species: Archon Fragment (World Devouring Serpent)

Realm: Mortal (Degraded Archon)

Age: 12

Sex: N/A

Might:1000

Special Abilities:

[World Devouring]

[Wings of Desolation]

Extra Skills:

[Chaos Origin]

[Qi: Unleashed]

[Contract: Reivan Aizenwald]

Elemental Affinities:

[Chaos]

[Darkness]

Favor:

100 / 100

(Loyalty / Protectiveness / Familial Love)

Threat Level:

N/A (This unit's favor is too high)

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

‘I just wish I knew what the wings actually did.’

Using [Supreme Insight] on the ability gave him the same result when he tried using it on [World Devouring] — meaning he may as well have stared at a pure white wall. That’s why he was still stuck wondering what significance the wings held other than looking slightly cool.

After all, Zouros could already fly even without the wings — though, after testing them out, the snake’s new limbs actually increased his speed by a few notches.

“Sick ‘em!” Reivan pointed at Helen, shamelessly letting his bigger friend loose on another friend. He didn't have the leeway to feel shame though, since it would take everything he had to triumph against the little genius.

Zouros opened its huge mouth and breathed out toxic fumes that headed straight for Helen. As if competing with the speed of its own attack, the massive serpent then charged forward, all while Qi, magic power, and even armament energy began to fill its ghostly body.

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

Zouros

Might: 1000 → 2200

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

Entities like Zorous apparently had a hundred percent perfection rate when it came to magic power manipulation because supernatural energy was literally what they were made of. As such, Qi reinforcement, mana augmentation, and the boost from armament energy infusion added 1200 points to the massive serpent’s might.

With this, his beastly companion alone had higher stats than Helen.

‘This isn’t cheating or ganging up on someone! Zouros is a part of me, after all!’

While yelling excuses in his heart, Reivan molded his soul armament into eight metallic marbles that immediately began to slowly revolve around his body.

Four of the marbles grew slightly larger and became sharp blades before joining the massive serpent in charging at Helen — even bypassing the serpent entirely.

Reivan had discovered that by focusing his [Formless Will] on controlling smaller objects, he could significantly increase the force that they were controlled with.

Meaning the small objects flew faster and hit harder.

Helen lazily tilted her head to the side, evading one of the blades while swatting away two with her saber. A slight shift of her leg caused the last blade to miss entirely.

‘Again!’

Unlike a turn-based RPG game, Reivan could potentially have unlimited turns in real life, not giving Helen any leeway by constantly attacking her with the four blades no matter how much she dodged or parried.

And soon enough, Zouros and the toxic fumes reached their target.

A mouth full of fangs almost clamped on the small girl’s hips, but then her body was jerked upward by a sudden gust of wind. With a flourish of her left arm, a torrential gale was summoned to blow away the serpent’s poisonous attack.

Zouros was relentless though, pursuing her no matter where she tried to run.

However, the giant snake just couldn't catch up to her — even when its movement speed was significantly increased by the wings sprouting on its back.

'Damn. Agility-based builds are so annoying to deal with!'

Once Helen decided to run, there was nothing Reivan could do but throw his hands in the air. After all, he didn’t have an attack that could catch her and have any actual effect.

‘That said, this isn’t good for her and she knows it.’

Normally, Reivan’s innately lower mana pool would mean that fighting a battle of attrition with Helen was a foolish thing to do. Sure, he could continuously heal himself, but the gap in stats meant that he would lose if Helen so much as grazed him.

However, Reivan barely used any of his magic power by attacking with blades controlled by his willpower and letting Zouros act as a bodyguard.

Helen, on the other hand, had to constantly utilize her movement-based aetherblade art.

‘Furthermore…’

Giving up on catching the girl, Zouros returned to Reivan’s side, protectively surrounding him with its spectral body. It then opened its large mouth — much like when it breathed out toxic fumes — and inhaled.

Instead of air getting sucked in, the ambient energy in the garden formed a vortex as it was funneled into the serpent’s stomach. The suction force grew stronger over time, and Reivan’s eyes could see how even Helen’s magic power was being extracted from her.

Reivan couldn’t help but liken his scaly companion to a vacuum cleaner.

‘I wonder what she’s got planned…’

Just like the last time they sparred, Reivan had employed a waiting strategy as well, forcing her to use her mana for evasion. To make things harder for her, Reivan had unleashed the power of Zouros's [World Devouring] — a skill he’d known about from the start, but had only been made aware of its effects recently.

Since today’s sparring session had been proposed by Helen, it was obvious that she had already thought of a way to break the unfavorable position.

Reivan got the answer to his question when Helen’s sword transformed into a spear. Bolts of electricity snaked around the polearm before the little genius threw it at Zouros’s conveniently opened mouth.

Through their soul bond, Reivan could feel the serpent’s disdain for the attack. Despite having the ability to dodge it, Zouros stayed its ground, aiming to devour the spear whole.

‘Uh, this doesn’t feel too good…!’

A tingle at the back of Reivan’s neck told him that he should kick the snake into moving immediately.

But it was too late.

Zouros’s pained screeching could shatter eardrums. It immediately backed off and shook its head to regain its bearings after the spear literally exploded just before the projectile entered its mouth.

Reivan didn’t miss the stiffness in his companion’s movements, realizing that Helen’s attack had paralyzed it.

‘Fuck.’

The two of them had refrained from utilizing their lightning attribute for anything except mobility since they were both resistant to the element. Still, this resistance did not extend to his serpentine companion. Zouros had always been prepared whenever Helen attacked it with lightning in the past, but the giant serpent was caught with its pants down while eating.

Hence, the current situation.

With his “meat shield” temporarily out of commission, Reivan was in a whole lot of danger.

“Damnit!” He immediately recalled the four blades that had been chasing after Helen’s afterimages. They disappeared before quickly reappearing at Reivan’s sides as marbles — his favorite defensive tool against anything humanoid.

It was just in time too, since Helen wasted no time in weaving past the paralyzed serpent, appearing right in front of him like some kind of horror movie ghost.

Reivan had been killed in this exact way countless times in his dreams, so he remained calm as he mentally directed one of the marbles to strike Helen’s blade from below, causing it to sail harmlessly above his head while he dashed backward with electricity arcing through his feet.

In response, Helen chased after him but her attacks were always stopped just short of succeeding because it would be redirected away from Reivan every time. Whenever she tried to swing or stab at him, her joints would be struck from multiple angles, making her miss or forcing her to avoid them.

As Helen’s frustration grew, Zouros finally recovered from his paralysis.

‘This is my chance!’

Reivan slapped his hands together and focused on an aetherblade art his mother recently taught him. The eight marbles formed a wide circle around Helen before they all glowed with an icy blue light. Within a fraction of a second, the surrounding temperature dropped rapidly and everything in the middle of the circle was covered in a layer of frost.

Helen struggled to break free, and her stats all but assured that she would do so very soon, but all Reivan wanted was an opening.

“Mashed potatoes! Now!” Reivan called out.

Following his cry, Zouros grew even larger, its large serpentine body surrounding the two children… before it tightened around them.

'Gotcha!'

It was common in movies and anime for creatures with long bodies like snakes and worms to have some kind of move to constrict an opponent, preventing their prey from moving while gradually suffocating it and crushing its bones over time.

But with a body as big as Zouros’, there was no need to wait long.

Reivan’s body harmlessly passed through Zouro’s ethereal body, leaving Helen stuck in the middle of the tightening serpent coil.

With her normally unmatched movement speed, Helen would have never gotten caught in such a trap, but Reivan had thought of multiple combat scenarios that would force her into it.

And this was just one of them.

'Her paralyzing Zouros wasn't part of the plan though! But I can work with it!'

Helen’s strength was put on full display as she struggled against Zouros’ constriction. Electricity constantly erupted from her body in an attempt to fend the giant monster off, but it was no use.

Zouros was caught unprepared last time, but not this time. All of its Qi reinforcement was focused on protecting the area that was in contact with the little genius. Furthermore, an ominous haze emanated from its large body, constantly eroding Helen’s magic power and stamina.

If that wasn’t enough, the giant serpent’s wide open mouth hovered over the clump of its body that held the girl prisoner, reactivating [World Devouring] to speed up the depletion of her energy resources.

‘Phew. It’s over.’

Within a minute, Helen could no longer resist. Her Qi reinforcement fell off and so did her mana augmentation.

“That’s enough,” Valter called out from way above them all.

Zouros acquiesced, releasing its captive and returning to a more manageable size. It flew over to Reivan and draped its body over his shoulders.

Helen lay panting on the grass, completely exhausted but totally unharmed due to Valter’s energy surrounding her frail-looking body. Her eyes stared blankly up at the afternoon sky as if contemplating what had just happened.

“Think you’ll survive?” Reivan chuckled wearily as he walked over and sat next to Helen.

“I’ll manage,” she said through ragged breaths. “You?”

With a sigh, Reivan let his body collapse right next to her, using Zouros’ body as a pillow. “I think I’ll manage too.”

The ice attribute aetherblade art that stopped her had pretty much depleted his mana pool, so he felt mentally drained. On top of that, controlling eight marbles while also watching out for attacks on his main body wasn’t as easy as he made it look.

‘Even with a helper, dealing with Helen is so hard…’

Although the gap had been gradually closing recently, Zouros always had a might stat that surpassed Helen when they were both fully boosted by all of their buffs.

Despite this, a stalemate was the only result when the two fought one on one.

This was because Zouros’ might was apparently focused more on defense and resilience, as well as muscle power. In game terms, Zouros was a tank or a bruiser.

On the other hand, Helen had abysmal defensive capabilities and unparalleled movement speed for her level.

This made it so that Zouros could never catch Helen, and Helen could never really deal significant damage to Zouros. The wings hadn’t been enough to close the gap between speed either, while Helen’s lightning attacks only ever managed to stun the giant snake for a moment.

Reivan was the one to break the stalemate.

Helen would instantly win if she took him out, giving her a target she could actually damage, while Reivan would win if he could stop Helen long enough for Zouros to land a hit.

‘It’s like I’m a summoner or something.’

He idly recalled a profession that frequently appeared in games — one where a magic user of some kind could summon all sorts of entities to fight for him. According to his memory, most games gave summoners a skill set that focused on support, having them create opportunities for their summoned partners to shine rather than dealing damage directly.

‘It’s not a bad fighting style, I guess…’

But he wanted to fight directly too. It would be a waste of his training otherwise.

‘In time, in time…’

Reivan knew he wouldn’t stay this weak forever. Some day, he would have enough power to fight Helen one on one.

‘I’m thirteen now, so it should be about time too.’

A smile crept up his face when he thought of how he’d be able to unlock his Qi soon. Though the exact details were never discussed, his uncle Viktor had talked about how he’d be able to do it once he was thirteen.

‘My birthday was a few months ago, so what the hell is taking so long!?’

Everybody seemed busy, even his little sisters, so he’d been reluctant to bring it up. But the Helen within his dreams always beat the crap out of him whenever he fought without Zouros, and it was getting old by now.

Dream Helen always seemed to go after his face too, which was not enjoyable at all.

While he was thinking about these things, Valter had walked over to the two of them with his arms behind his back.

“Your Highness, should I carry you to your room?”

“I’ll be fine. A nap in the grass is fine once in a while…” Reivan dismissed with a lazy wave of his hand but then he realized something. “I don’t think I have anything lined up this afternoon, but am I remembering correctly?”

Spending too much time in [Glimpse of Eternity] was really messing with his memory, it seemed. Karuna would really rake him over the coals once he saw her again.

“That’s right. You freed up the whole afternoon for this spar and…” Valter gave him a meaningful look. “Your little side project.”

Reivan nodded in understanding.

‘I guess it should be about that time here…’

“Great. Nap time it is. It's the fastest way to recover magic power, after all. Oh, and you can go for now. Let’s meet back up later tonight.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

As Valter left through a puddle of black sludge, Reivan pulled the sleepy Helen over and let her head rest on Zouros’ wings before curling up next to her.

Zouros — the kind-hearted creature that it was — helped by enlarging its body a bit to make it easier for the two youths. It then laid down for a nap too, enjoying the heat of the sun shining on its purple-tinted black scales.

‘Man, I always feel sleepy after these spars… even in dreams. I should make a stronger version of coffee…’

As a yawn escaped his lips, Reivan settled into a comfortable position, asking his scaly companion to wake him up in about an hour before succumbing to the sweet embrace of sleep.

Arc#3 Interlude: Names

[Author's Note]

Hello~!

I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I once again wish to thank you for the continued support!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Within one of the few rooms inside a somewhat dilapidated warehouse surrounded by deserted buildings, a handsome youth with hair as dark as the night and sapphire eyes sat on a soft couch and sipped on a cup of cold chocolate milk.

In front of him were two men who looked strangely alike when they stood next to each other.

“Valter.” The young man spoke to the taller of the two while putting his cup down on a low table in front of him.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Valter stepped forward and saluted. His immaculate and knightly clothing could not be more out of place in their current location, but the thousand-year-old warrior acted just as he always did — with an air of unwavering composure.

“What did you think?”

“About what?” Valter almost wanted to ask. After a moment of thought, he spoke. “I believe she won’t betray us, Your Highness.”

“That’s what my eyes told me too.” Reivan nodded with a smile. “But just for reference, how are you so sure?”

“Forgive me, Your Highness. But all I can say is that I just do. Call it intuition if you will.”

“Your intuition’s crazy.” Reivan chuckled and turned toward the other man. “First of all, Xanth— or rather, Sir Xander.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

With a flourish of his hand, Reivan’s disguise fell off to reveal his original appearance. He closed his eyes, stood up, and bowed. “On behalf of the king, I would like to thank you for your outstanding service and patriotism.”

“I am undeserving of such words. Please stand up…”

Just as the somewhat stiff Xander moved to help the prince up, Valter intervened. “Xander, just accept the praise. The prince isn’t one for excessive formalities in private settings like this.”

“Hm.” Xander stopped, not knowing what to do at first. But then he nodded before saluting — an act that he hadn’t done in decades, but never forgot. “Thank you for your kind words, Your Highness.”

With that, Reivan straightened up and with a smile on his face. “We, the royal family, are very pleased by your efforts. And efforts cannot go unpaid! As such, if you have anything in mind, do let me know. We’ll be working together for a very long time, so Father has already placed you under my command for the foreseeable future.”

“I…” Xander hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “I do not particularly have anything in mind…”

“Lies. Speak honestly.” The prince commanded, his mouth forming a lighthearted grin as he sat back down.

Seeing the troubled look on his descendant’s face, Valter chuckled. “It is impossible to lie to His Highness, so speak freely. I know you have something in mind.”

With a slight grimace, Xander nodded and turned toward Reivan. “As the patriarch mentioned, forgive my insolence for harboring some small desires…”

“Nonsense. There’s nothing wrong with wanting things. Go on. I don’t have a lot of personal funds but I’ll do my best to fulfill your requests. It’s the least I could do for the years you spent as a spy.”

With great hesitation, Xander finally spoke, his head held low. “This humble knight wishes for a vacation…”

“A vacation…?” Reivan seemed shocked for a moment before he chuckled. “That’s it? Just asking, but how much time off do you want?”

“Two— No, a month. Just a month…”

“Done. Two months it is. I’ll do my best to convince Father. I don’t think he would refuse though. Oh, and obviously this vacation will happen after the organization’s takeover has stabilized.”

Xander broke into a smile. “That’s perfectly fine. Thank you, Your Highness.”

Reivan dismissed him with a wave and asked. “Now, we weren’t able to exchange information due to previous circumstances, but kindly give me a summary of what you’ve been doing. From what I’ve been told, spies can only send information to Aizen — never receive it. And it’s only after once after every two years or so too…”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Xander saluted again before starting his report.

Exactly twenty-six years ago, he volunteered to act as a spy based in the Magitechnocratic Republic of Arkhan. The procedure for this was quick and easy, if not bothersome.

Basically, he died.

Not in reality, but as a citizen. His death was faked and most of his mortal acquaintances truly thought that he’d died in some battle somewhere.

Of course, his family and friends knew the truth. But for all intents and purposes, Xander had died the moment he volunteered to be a spy.

And so, a man named Xanthus was born.

He’d infiltrated the republic via land, passing through the wolf’s maw — the mountain range that acted as a border separating Aizen from the rest of the continent — and hiring republican smugglers to enter the foreign nation with ease.

From then on, “Xanthus” started integrating into the republic. At first, he started low, acting as a waiter at a pub or a bouncer at a bar. He was careful to switch locations every few months, not wanting to stay in the same place for too long.

Soon enough, after about a year of job-hopping, Xanthus made contact with the underworld when he encountered someone who tried to trick him into enslavement.

Slaves were technically illegal in Arkhan. Only the state could own them.

But all laws were made to be broken. With the astronomical gap between the rich and the poor in the republic, it was a common occurrence for people to be forced into slavery through insurmountable debts. Since the higher-ups of the government all secretly owned slaves, they naturally turned a blind eye to these issues.

And so, the slave trade actually flourished within the upper crust of the republic’s society.

Xanthus saw great potential in using those slaves for his own endeavors.

That’s why he finally revealed a tiny fraction of his true ability as a mercenary for hire. Xanthus ravenously gathered money to buy slaves, training them and using them as informants.

The best part was that these slaves actually had a history of staying in the Republic. So unlike Xanthus, there were no risks of being linked to Aizen if they were caught. If found out, the authorities would simply think that they were the private army of some bigwig.

After about fifteen years, Xanthus managed to build up quite a formidable network of spies. He funneled a constant stream of information to Aizen by way of a one-way encrypted communication system.

But it wasn’t enough.

He barely got any information of actual significance, and the might of his little troops would not be able to cause meaningful damage to Arkhan should he be ordered to by his king.

That was why when the Silver Cross extended an olive branch to him, Xanthus took it without hesitation. The best part was that the organization itself provided the slaves and the environment to train them as combatants.

Naturally, Xanthus secretly took the ones who had the most potential for himself, using the excuse that they were defective to integrate them into his private forces.

Ten years later he was now the head of security and intelligence, which gave him access to information and a small army under the Silver Cross’s banner. His private forces had grown tremendously to the extent that he had at least a dozen agents in every inhabited Republican settlement.

And he even had a couple of agents posted in the Argonia Empire to inform him about the war front between the empire and the republic.

Xander calmly relayed his accomplishments, but he couldn’t help the way his heart swelled from pride when his ancestor looked increasingly impressed.

“Impressive.” Reivan praised with sincerity. “And how strong are these agents on an individual level…?”

“Not very strong, unfortunately.” Xander shook his head. “I do not have the resources to train them as intensively as I would like. And I could not use the majority of the training methods I knew, since they all came from Aizen.”

“I see. It would’ve risked linking the spies to us.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Only about ten percent of my private forces have unlocked their Qi. The others are just very strong mortals, albeit capable of mana augmentation.”

“Ten percent of…?”

“I have about a thousand agents, with a hundred of them being capable of Qi reinforcement and mana augmentation.”

“That’s pretty good, considering the fact that you basically started from nothing twenty-six years ago! And that’s not even including the Silver Cross forces. How are those forces doing, by the way?”

“The Silver Cross’s combat slaves are all owned by Valmir on paper. But there are multiple command seals for them since Valmir couldn’t be everywhere at once.”

Reivan snickered. “And you have one of them, I assume?”

“Yes. The other command seals have dead owners now.”

“Excellent. So this pretty much means that we own the Silver Cross’ blades.”

“Indeed. However, they’re of even lower quality than my private forces.” Xander scratched his cheek, his brows furrowed. “I admit I didn’t train them as best as I could because I always planned to betray the organization eventually. At the time, I had thought it foolish to increase their strength, despite how little difference it would actually make in the long run.”

“That’s fine. It’s not as if we’ll be fighting Arkhanian battlemages. At most, we’ll just use them for odd jobs and bullying locals.” Reivan lazily spoke as he picked up his cup for a sip. But his eyes widened as if realizing something. He hurriedly slapped his mouth. “I feel like I just raised a flag…”

“Your Highness?” Valter called out, his face marred by confusion.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Despite the prince’s words though, his brows stayed furrowed. “In any case, there’s great potential in the force you built up, so I’ll invest part of our future profits in developing it further. Oh, and I take it that your agents are severely limited in what they do because they can’t let anyone see the collars around their necks, right?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Xander nodded, a troubled look on his countenance. “They cannot work normal jobs because of this. As such, I am forced to support them by having them steal or send them money from my own pockets. Obviously, the former risks having law enforcement take an interest in them, so most of the time, I need to resort to the latter option… which costs quite a lot overall due to the sheer amount of agents I have.”

“Huh. I doubt being the head of security and intelligence pays that well. Did you have a separate source of income?”

“Yes. I embezzled some funds from the Silver Cross when nobody was looking. Not that they could find me even if they were. Nobody ever found out about my Darkness affinity after all. I also took on a few high-paying dirty jobs... though I only ever did it using a secret identity.”

“I see. Well, it was dirty money anyway…” Reivan took a sip of chocolate milk, savoring the sweet but slightly bitter flavor. He put it down and said, “Well, I believe we can solve that from now on. I’ll request more of those slave pills. Shove them down all of their throats and throw those collars away.”

The usually stoic Xander's face slackened. “Would that really be okay?”

“Yes. As long as Father agrees to cover this with the national budget, then it’s fine.”

Valter chimed in with a smile. “I’m sure His Majesty would agree. This is something that can only benefit Aizen after all. He’ll understand that it’s not just one of your selfish endeavors.”

“I hope so. Also, don’t say that as if I have a lot of selfish endeavors. Even though it’s true.” Reivan grumbled, his brows furrowed. “Anyway, that’s pretty much it for me. I have to consult a bunch of elderly gentlemen on how best to move forward. I have plans of my own but it can’t hurt to hear input from the wise.”

The prince’s cup disappeared into his spacial storage ring and he stood up.

“If you have any other questions or requests, now’s the time,” he said.

There was a moment of silence before Valter cleared his throat. “I have a question, Your Highness.”

“Oh? This is rare. Go right ahead then.”

“Thank you. Now, the name you used… ‘Ken’ was it? I have a feeling it’s not just some random name you came up with. The same goes for the name you chose for the organization.”

“Ugh…” Reivan grimaced. “So you’re curious about that…”

“Yes. Please indulge my curiosity.”

The prince sighed. Instead of answering the question though, he asked a question of his own. “Names are special, don’t you think?”

Valter seemed confused for a second before he nodded.

“I think so too.” Reivan smiled. “That’s why even a throwaway persona like the one I just used earlier needs a meaningful name.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness. But I don’t quite understand…”

“You don’t have to understand.” The prince smirked and moved to exit the room. “I just thought Ken needed to go out with a bigger bang. He never got to live his life after all. That's why I think he needs a better ending than dying on a couch”

“Are you talking about a story you read?”

“No. It’s a story I watched. Many, many times.”

“Ah, so it was a play. I see.” Valter bobbed his head in understanding.

Reivan did nothing to correct his guardian knight, only smiling to himself. “Anyway, if that’s all, I’ll be leaving. Don’t worry about me, Sir Valter. Mother’s outside waiting for me with my sisters. We’ll be spending a night out for once in a long while.”

“Understood.”

“You should also spend time with your family.”

Reivan gave the two men one last wave of farewell before he transformed into Van, the identity he used whenever he loitered around somewhere in Aizen.

════ ⋆★★★⋆ ════

The two men watched the prince leave before Valter turned toward his descendant. “Well met, Xander.”

“It has been a long while, Great Patriarch.” Xander bowed, bending his waist at a ninety-degree angle.

“I heard you used your real name as an alias when you crossed the border.”

“Ah… Well, it’s just I hadn’t been called by my name in a while. And the guards stationed at the border were good friends of mine too…”

Valter shook his head in exasperation but said nothing more because he understood the poor boy’s sentiments. Still, his descendant's lack of self-control irked him a little.

Seeking to change the subject, Xander asked, “Is my great-grandmother doing well…?”

“Melinda is fine.” Valter nodded, a warm smile crossing his lips. “She still makes very good stew.”

“Hmm.” Xander's hand unconsciously rubbed his stomach, as if suddenly becoming hungry. A look of longing crossed his face.

Looking at his descendant’s actions, Valter couldn’t help but recall Xander when he was a little boy.

‘He’s grown up well.’

The “boy” was a spitting image of Valter, except Xander now had the pearly white skin that was prevalent in the Aizen Kingdom. After about a dozen generations, Valter’s blood had thinned to the point where nobody would mistake his descendants for foreigners.

It was a fact that made him feel complicated.

On one hand, he wanted to preserve as much of his fallen tribe’s legacy. But on the other, he felt happy to have had his bloodline fully integrated into the nation that had allowed him so much happiness and fulfillment.

‘Well, none of that matters right now.’

Valter shook his head of other thoughts, focusing on Xander. Thinking about how the boy who cried whenever the other boys bullied him, Valter couldn’t help but marvel at the man that Xander had become.

The boy who clung to his great-grandmother all the time had volunteered to become a spy, spending more than two decades alone in a foreign nation, with no true allies and surrounded by enemies.

The boy who teared up whenever the other boys called him stupid for being a slow reader had created a formidable and far-reaching force of combatants and informants, even though he’d basically started with nothing but his strength and skills.

The boy who'd left home had finally returned.

“Xander.”

“Yes, Great Patriarch…?”

“You’ve done well.” Valter placed his hand on his descendant’s shoulder. “You’ve done really well. I'm proud of you.”

Xander looked down, unable to meet his ancestor’s gaze. “T-thank you, Great Patriarch. I’ve… I’ve always admired you… always wanted to be like you. Your words… they… they mean a lot to me.”

Valter pulled Xander into a hug, patting the hard-working lad on the back. No words were exchanged, and it was only a short second before they parted, smiles on their faces.

However, that was enough to convey their feelings to each other.

“Well, I believe that’s enough of the mushy stuff.” Valter chuckled, losing his usual seriousness and speaking freely. “Let’s head home.”

“Home…” Xander mulled over the words for a few seconds before nodding. “Yeah... Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Right? Take it from me, home’s the best after being away for so long. The only thing that beats it is sitting down and enjoying a meal with your family… Oh. Reminds me, you must’ve missed your wife and daughter. Rest assured, they’re doing very well for themselves and I’m sure they’d be glad to know you’re back.”

“Ah.” Xander’s complexion visibly paled at his ancestor’s words as beads of sweat started dotting his forehead.

Not one to miss details, Valter smirked and jokingly teased his descendant. “What’s with that face? Did you cheat on her while you were away? That won’t do, that won’t do! She’ll kill you in your sleep!”

The thousand-year-old knight’s jests didn’t land though, as Xander’s complexion grew worse.

‘What…’

This told Valter all he needed to know.

“So you did.” Valter massaged his temples, a furrow in his brows. “How many?”

“J-just…” Xander looked down. “Just one…”

“That’s one too many, boy.”

“Yes of course, Great Patriarch. You're right…”

Previously, Xander averted his gaze because he felt mortified by the proud look he was receiving from his childhood idol. Now, he couldn’t bear to meet that childhood idol’s gaze out of a different kind of embarrassment.

“What about Kids? Did you knock her up?”

“Y-yes…”

“How many?”

“Just three, Great Patriarch…”

“Three!” Valter threw his arms in the air, clearly displaying his exasperation. He roughly grabbed the fool’s shoulder. “I explicitly warned you about this right after you volunteered to be a spy. Did you even listen!?”

“I-I just made a mistake!”

“Mistake!? How could it possibly be a mistake!? You have to make advances or be receptive to the woman’s advances. Then you have to bring her somewhere private. Then you get naked. Then you get her naked. And then you do the deed! There were plenty of opportunities for you to stop! It sure as hell wasn’t just a single mistake!”

“I-I’m very sorry!”

“And it’s not as if women get pregnant just from having intercourse! Couldn’t you have pulled out at some point!?”

Xander groaned, not having the willpower to muster a response.

“And you had three! Three kids, Xander Suprana. Three!” Valter grabbed both of the stupid boy’s shoulders and shook him roughly. “How could you make the same set of mistakes three times!?”

It was a common occurrence among Aizen’s spies.

Whittled down by years of loneliness, they would seek companionship from one of the natives. Even if they initially just wanted something casual and irresponsible, they would eventually fall into the pit, mesmerized by the comfort of another person’s company.

In actuality, there was nothing wrong with starting a relationship with foreigners. In fact, despite being well aware of the frequency of such cases amongst spies, the royal family never forbade it or advised against it.

This was true even when a spy could be compromised precisely because they now had important people behind enemy lines. Luckily, due to their oaths of loyalty, they would never be able to betray the kingdom on the off-chance that they wanted to.

The problem, the spies noticed, came when it was time to return to the motherland. What, then, would happen to the family they’d built?

Naturally, they couldn’t be left behind.

It would also be very difficult to extract them from the nation without expending great effort so the foreign nation doesn’t notice — after all, Aizen didn't want any trouble, and it definitely didn't want to be accused of pilfering citizens from other nations.

It was because of the bothersome dilemma caused by their existence that certain individuals in the knighthood referred to these families as Gift Bombs — because family was a gift from the heavens, but no one ever knew when this “gift” would explode in your face and ruin everything.

The kingdom still expended effort to help the foolish spies who couldn’t control their libidos while on the job. There was even a specialized team of knights whose sole job was to transport the gift bomb families to Aizen — though they usually prioritized the families left behind by spies who’d died on the job.

With all that said, the royal household’s consent did not prevent the creation of gift bomb families from being frowned upon within the knighthood.

Valter had also acted as a spy for the kingdom many centuries ago, and he too had almost fallen prey to the temptation. Luckily, he was overcome with hatred for Argonia at the time, so he managed to push through.

He eventually met Seren — his first and only wife — and lived happily ever after.

This was precisely why he looked down on the spies who failed to resist. He had prevailed over the temptation at a time when Aizen's disciplinary training was still lacking, and yet these newer kids couldn't?

Preposterous!

“You disappoint me, Xander. I feel as if I suddenly don’t know you anymore.”

Hearing his idol’s cold voice, Xander’s knees buckled under his weight, colliding with the floor with a pained look on his face. “P-please don’t say that, Great Patriarch…”

Shaking his head in disgust, Valter clicked his tongue. “Explain everything to your wife by yourself. She’ll be so upset, thinking you don’t love her anymore because she grew old before you…”

“Th-that’s not true!” Xander vehemently denied. “Her looks mean nothing to me! I still love her!”

“Well, why don’t you tell her that after you introduce your mistress to her!”

Xander groaned, defeated.

“Fool.” Valter sighed as he looked on in pity. “Don’t expect to be invited to your daughter’s wedding either.”

“Wedding…?”

“Yes. Sarina’s getting married to her childhood friend. Nice young man, hard-working too. With no help from his parents, he now has a shop near the center of Starwater City. The wedding’s there too, by the way. It can’t hope to match something like Prince Roland’s wedding, but they still planned something quite grand. I couldn’t resist chipping in a few Sun Coins since I didn’t want the lad to go bankrupt right after getting married.”

“My little girl’s getting married…”

“She’s no little girl. You left when she was four, remember? Now, she’s thirty. She actually delayed her marriage because she always hoped you’d return in time… It’s a shame that you actually did return in time, but with stories of your infidelity.”

“N-no…”

“Well, since you’re technically dead, you can’t attend it publicly anyway. But there’s nothing wrong with attending it in secret. Oh, but knowing that she suddenly has three siblings would shock her so much… Maybe it would even ruin the festive mood!”

“Please help me apologize!”

“Take responsibility like a man and do it by yourself.”

“Please don’t say that!” Xander bolted up and tried to grab at Valter’s leg but he was met with a faceful of black smoke. When he looked up, the thousand-year-old knight was gone. “Ancestor! Don’t do this to me!”

Xander kept on shouting, his voice echoing throughout the warehouse. Fortunately, no one was there to hear him since the gang members that lived there were currently being treated to a sumptuous dinner at a restaurant to celebrate their flawless victory over the other gangs in the area.

The run-down buildings all around the warehouse had also been secretly bought out by Reivan, so nobody stayed there after it was cleared out by his knights — not even squatters.

As such, Xander was well and truly alone to wallow in despair at the results his “youthful indiscretion” would bring.

════ ⋆★★★⋆ ════

"Fwoo..." Elsamina sighed as she sat on the soft bed in her room at a luxury inn. She'd just finished a hot bath and was only wearing the fluffy white bathrobe provided for her, but since she was alone she didn't care about how it could barely contain her chest.

And besides, she'd gotten used to wearing more daring things.

'Now that I think about it, it's been a long time since I've slept alone...'

Since falling into Ballor's clutches, Elsamina always spent her nights with someone — be it men or her juniors who'd cry themselves to sleep in her arms, Elsamina never slept alone.

'But this is kinda nice.'

Maybe it was the fact that Ballor was dead and that she was effectively a free person again, Elsamina's heart felt light. There was a slight twinge of pain whenever she thought about her little brother, but Elsamina tried her best to resist depression by thinking of her new master.

'He was cute.'

Elsamina had only ever felt this way about the young girls she took care of, so her feelings for Ken were fresh, if not slightly confusing for her. After all, she'd never had a positive impression of a man before.

'Oh, but I suppose he's not a man yet. Just a boy... But maybe that's a good thing?'

Nevertheless, she looked forward to their future interactions and hoped that they would all get what they wanted out of this relationship.

'It's getting late.'

The clock on the wall had struck midnight a long while ago. Elsamina wanted to turn in early to remove the chances of waking up late tomorrow, but the inn's bath, the sauna, and all sorts of other amenities were so enjoyable that time simply flew by.

"Good night..." Elsamina said to no one in particular as she curled up on the bed and stared at the wall, waiting for sleep to take her consciousness away.

'I'm free.'

If she wanted to jump out of bed and head out to the night market for some fun, nobody would stop her. Eating until she couldn't eat anymore was also something she could do. Heck, if she wanted to pick out some guy to share a night of passion with, she could — not that she'd actually do that willingly.

The possibilities were endless and she was starting to grow restless at all the things she could do now.

But in the end, she still decided to head to bed. It wouldn't do if she made a horrible impression by sleeping in on her first day on the job.

'Vice-leader of Ouroboros. That's me. That's who I am, now...'

With a mix of relief, anxiety, unease, and hope, Elsamina fell into slumber's embrace.

Arc#3 Chapter 50: The Birth of Ouroboros

[Author's Note]

Hoo-wee. It's been a week since I posted. It's a sign that I've grown used to posting twice a week since I feel weird only posting once.

Anyway, it was my birthday last Thursday, July 06. It made me wanna post a chap just for the hell of it. But I managed to resist it — mainly because I was too stuffed with food and also very drunk.

Lire is now 25 years old, baby!

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

‘Poor thing…’

Reivan inwardly sighed as he gazed upon the pitiful woman, who was unable to show a shred of happiness even after vanquishing the biggest villain of her life.

The vacant look on her face said it all; she’d lost all purpose, and was now desperate to find something — anything — to cling to.

A morally questionable man would have found her current state to be perfect for manipulation. Just a few honeyed words mixed with feigned sincerity may have been enough to bring her in.

However, Reivan didn’t want to do that to a kindred spirit like Elsamina. Of course, he wanted her to help his cause and had every intention to gently push her in that direction, but if she ever strayed away and found some other endeavor, that would be perfectly fine as well.

Disappointing, perhaps. But he’d accept the loss and move on while cheering for her in his heart.

‘Hmm… What do I say though…?’

Despite their similarities in being unfortunate, the nature of that misfortune had taken on different forms. As such, Reivan couldn’t fully empathize with her.

Still, he had a nearly endless wealth of knowledge to draw from — by way of the numerous stories he’d read.

‘I hope this works…’

While praying that at least one of the novels he’d read had an author that actually did research on psychology — and that he’d luckily pick that author’s novel to draw knowledge from — Reivan cleared his throat and spoke.

“Well, for now, why don’t you get off that corpse? Furthermore, this isn’t really the best place to talk, so let’s get out of here.”

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

Elsamina followed Ken, Xanthus, and the two men out of the underground hideout. On her way, she saw the brutal slaughter that the intruders unleashed upon the Silver Cross guards.

The inner room where the higher-ups fought and died paled in comparison to the carnage in the reception hall. Corpses littered the floor like trash and the scent of blood filled the air. Elsamina had immediately given up on the futile endeavor of keeping her shoes clean since there wasn’t a single spot on the floor that wasn’t dirty.

Emerging aboveground, they found themselves inside a pub that, surprisingly, no longer reeked of death. Elsamina and Ken settled into seats across from each other, the table between them barely holding itself together.

“So,” Ken procured a flask of warm mead and a plate of cookies, pushing them toward Elsamina. “You asked me what you should do now?”

Elsamina nodded. “Yes.”

The long walk to the surface had given her plenty of time to regain some of her bearings. Earlier, she’d felt lost and without purpose. But she’d quickly realized she still had plenty of things to do.

For one thing, she still owed the mysterious youth a debt of gratitude for granting her the opportunity to exact vengeance upon Ballor. If nothing else, she wasn’t ungrateful enough to leave this world without paying him back in some way.

Whether the youth had intended to eliminate the detestable man from the beginning or was indifferent to the outcome, it made no difference to Elsamina.

‘One has to pay for one’s meals.’

It was one of the many lessons that her father had instilled in her, and despite her hatred for him, Elsamina intended to live by those words. As such, she had to return the favor to her greatest benefactor.

‘He’s so young, but he seems to have an interest in my body…’

Having been thrown into the world of adults long before puberty, Elsamina had no idea when boys usually started wanting to do those kinds of things. However, Ken’s maturity made her think that maybe he wasn’t that young at all.

‘He looks like he’s fifteen, so it should be fine. I suppose I can just offer that.’

With no other purpose aside from continued survival, Elsamina didn’t really care about her body at this point. If she could repay her benefactor, then so be it. Perhaps he’d like her enough to be kinder to the other girls in Arkhan too.

Ideally, he’d find them respectable jobs and homes in a safe city that was far away from the war front with Argonia, where they could live out a normal life. Perhaps if they hid their pasts well enough, they could even get married to a nice man and build a lovely family.

‘And besides…’

Ken seemed like he would be a much better alternative than someone like Desmor. In fact, she had never been with anyone younger than her… and was finding the idea surprisingly appealing.

“To repay you for your grace, I’ve decided to serve you from now on, Mr. Ken.” Elsamina stood up and curtsied. “From now on, you may do with my body as you wish.”

Her statement was met with silence for a few moments as the youth sat there, stunned.

“Wh—” Ken spluttered, his ears turning slightly red. “What in the world are you saying…”

“I’ve nobody to hate now and no family left to search for. As for the kids I’m taking care of back in Arkhan, Ballor’s demise has all but assured that they’ll live better lives. With that, I am without purpose or direction. If you would accept someone like me, I’d like to repay you for freeing me.”

“That seems a bit odd, no? You got away from slavery and then went straight into offering your… service to someone else?”

“I am not offering myself to someone else. I’m offering it to my benefactor in the hopes that he continues to take care of me and a few other people that I care for.”

“Hm. But still…”

“Master, do you find me undesirable?” Elsamina subtly shifted the front of her mantle to give the youth a healthy glimpse.

Just as expected, Ken’s gaze was pulled to her bosom almost immediately but was peeled away just as quickly. He gulped a mouthful of saliva and spoke. “That is not the case. At all.”

“Then what is the problem? All I ask is that you treat me and a few girls kindly…”

“Well, I already planned to take care of you anyway…” Ken’s eyes widened and he covered his mask-covered mouth. “Ah, wait…”

Elsamina couldn’t help but giggle as she watched the flustered youth. She’d never teased anyone before, but she found that it was quite fun.

‘So he planned to take me in from the start.’

The fact didn’t surprise her at all. If anything, she found men who showed no desire for her — like Xanthus and the men Ken brought with him — strange.

‘Oh, there were those knights at Aizen’s border too…’

Regardless, Ken seemed well informed about the Silver Cross and its activities, likely due to planning its downfall for a long time. It wasn’t strange for him to have gotten wind of “Ballor’s Favorite” and desired her for himself.

Elsamina felt somewhat happy about that fact. A mischievous grin bloomed on her face as she took a sip of the mead.

His eyes averted from her, Ken sighed. “I admit, I want you.”

“Wonderful.” Elsamina put her cup down and smiled. “Then—”

“But not in the way you’re thinking.” Ken interrupted.

Confused by his words, Elsamina couldn’t help but tilt her head a little. “What do you mean…?”

Instead of answering the question, the youth asked a question of his own. “What do you believe is Xanthus’ role in the Silver Cross?”

Elsamina furrowed her brows for a moment before answering. “Xanthus is… the head of the security division as well as intelligence gathering.”

“And what does that entail, exactly?”

“He’s the strongest warrior in the organization and has trained a fairly large force of elite warriors and other types of personnel....” she recited before realization struck her. “And he has eyes and ears everywhere…”

“Correct.” Ken chuckled. “In exchange for a very large sum of money, Xanthus betrayed the Silver Cross a very long time ago…”

‘That seems plausible…’

The silent warrior’s only visible desire from the very beginning had been money. From what she knew, he never partook in women or abused the authority and power he wielded, but when it came to money, Xanthus would take matters seriously.

As such, Elsamina didn’t doubt that Xanthus had been bought out by the mysterious youth backed by an unknown force.

‘I was wondering how I never got discovered… so it was because Xanthus had already betrayed the Silver Cross at that point, and as such, no longer cared about its downfall.’

“Have you realized?” Ken asked, an amused look in his eyes. “Xanthus decided for himself to leave you to your devices — even going as far as helping you in secret from time to time. He’d known all about your little movements from start to finish.”

‘As expected…’

From the start, her plan to slowly collapse Ballor’s businesses was a gamble with a low chance of success and an even lower chance that she’d survive the aftermath.

Self-aware that he was a hateful existence, Ballor had never trusted anyone. That was why he delegated a lot of sensitive tasks to his slaves, who couldn’t disobey him even if they wanted to.

Naturally, this had included Elsamina as well. And she’d used every chance she could get to gather the resources needed to uproot everything Ballor had built.

Although her collar prevented her from defying Ballor's commands, Elsamina had discovered that she had a surprising degree of freedom as long as she remained obedient. And it was this limited freedom that allowed her to prepare for the ultimate act of betrayal.

As his favorite slave, Ballor had tasked Elsamina with a wide array of secretive tasks. And over time, she’d documented every single thing in excruciating detail, gathered every bit of evidence she could afford to take, and even taken care to secure back-ups and witnesses.

All her efforts were aimed at one goal — to deliver everything she had gathered to someone who could wield it as a weapon against Ballor and bring about his downfall.

The plan had been to write down the location of where the stashes were, and with her dying breath, hand it over to someone like a rival organization’s higher-up.

Unfortunately, her efforts at making contact with someone from another organization that could rival the Silver Cross had been moot. In exchange, she’d built a large network of connections that would keep an eye out for such organizations and inform her about them.

‘If only Ballor hadn’t suddenly asked me to come with him to Aizen…’

She was so close to succeeding on her own too. And although she managed to hand over the locations of her stashes to someone she could trust, Elsamina didn’t trust that person to have the ability to continue gathering information.

At least, she had thought, if the information she’d already gathered were used properly, it would deal a good blow to Ballor.

‘Well, this outcome ended up being better.’

Ballor was not only dead, but the organization’s leader had changed to someone who felt like a decent person. And she was alive too, even though she didn’t see the point of living anymore.

Elsamina heaved a weary sigh. “So? You know all about what I was doing. What does that have to do with the current situation?”

Ken chuckled. “I believe that someone like you should act as the leader for the organization I’m establishing.”

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

‘Heh. Get a load of the look on her face.’

Reivan held back a snicker as he looked at the speechless beauty in front of him. It was a bit petty, but he felt it was sufficient payback for her previous teasing — not that he didn’t like the view.

Finally regaining her words, Elsamina frowned and looked at him. “Pardon me for asking, but have you gone crazy, perhaps?”

“Everyone’s a little crazy. But last time I checked, I’m still capable of making logical decisions.”

“Then why would you make me the leader…? Weren’t you supposed to be the leader?”

“Yes.”

“Th— Oh, wait, so you are the leader?" The redhead cradled her head, her brows furrowed. "I’m so confused now.”

Reivan chuckled. “While I am still the head honcho, I’m quite busy. I won’t be around to manage the organization most of the time — in particular, any activities within the republic will be too troublesome. As such, you will be the acting head honcho… the vice-leader, if you will.”

“Oh…” Elsamina nodded slowly, ruminating on his words before tilting her head to the side. “Aren’t there better options…? Xanthus, for one thing.”

“Xanthus is very good at certain things while being very bad at others. Managing an organization that isn’t solely based in combat or espionage is part of the latter.”

“Then Greyviel…”

At this, Reivan sighed. “You are living proof that you shouldn’t place too much trust in something like a slave collar. I’m sure he’s thinking of a way to betray me as we speak.”

“That’s true, I suppose…” Elsamina nodded in apparent agreement.

Seeing that she was still hesitating, Reivan did his best to voice his sincerity. “Ms. Elsamina, I believe that someone with your abilities and nature is perfect for the organization that I wish to build. It would mean a lot to me if you gave me your aid, not as a means to express your gratitude, but because you want to.”

“Not as a way to express my gratitude, huh…” she muttered, a strange look on her pretty face as she rested her elbows on the table. “So you don’t want my gratitude?”

“I didn’t say that. I just didn’t want you to express it in that way.” Reivan loosened his collar, resisting the urge to peek into the gap in her cloak. While inwardly cursing his pre-pubescent body, he continued.

“Although I intend to make drastic changes in how things are run, in the end, the organization will still be involved in unsavory businesses — which means that danger is a given. I don’t want you diving back into the underworld for the sake of repaying debts when you could be living out a peaceful life instead.”

Elsamina said nothing, only looking into his eyes for a few moments.

Reivan did his best to remain unwavering, sincerely looking back into her beautiful emerald eyes. However, he eventually couldn’t take her teasing any longer.

“Kindly stop trying to tempt me.”

“You have amazing self-control for someone so young.” Elsamina giggled and fixed her cloak.

She actually hadn’t been showing much. It wouldn’t have even counted as “revealing” by his old world’s standards. But he just couldn't resist her allure for some reason. The way her pearly white skin glistened, the faint womanly scent wafting into his nose, and the pleasant sound of her voice...

All of it made his heartbeat quicken.

Fortunately, he was a man of sound morals and great discipline, otherwise, he would've thrown caution to the wind and pounced on her.

'This has got to be the effect of some kinda special ability. I'm not such a horny person! I'm normal!'

Convinced that her irresistible allure was the work of something supernatural, Reivan used [Supreme Insight] to take a better look at her.

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

Name: Elsamina

Species: Human

Realm: Mortal

Age: 25

Sex: Female

Might: 7

Special Abilities:

[None]

Extra Skills:

[None]

Elemental Affinities:

[Fire]

Favor:

(Interest / Gratitude) 71 / 100

Threat Level:

This unit is too weak!

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

''Shit. How does this make any sense!?'

At this point, he could only chalk it up to how he’d been a virgin for a combined total of more than forty years. In fact, if he counted how he’d been stuck in a dream for an immeasurable amount of time, one could even argue that he’d been a virgin far longer than the existence of humanity itself.

If anyone had the right to be horny, it was him.

Even after he’d gained an increased resistance to pretty women because Kyouka had been stuck to him like glue for most of his life, that still didn’t change the fact that his little guy had never gotten any action!

‘It must be her hormones or whatever, right? Or was it pheromones...? They must be running on overdrive all the time or something. Dammit.’

As Reivan sat there stunned, he was brought back to reality by Elsamina’s giggling.

“Am I that pretty?” She playfully concealed her smile behind her delicate hand, her eyes twinkling with mischief. With a graceful gesture, she swept a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a subtle yet alluring movement that accentuated her beauty. “You’ve been staring at my face for so long. And so blatantly too… You're free to take a closer look, you know?”

‘Oh god... I can’t believe I did that thing that system users in novels do…’

He dispersed the semi-transparent screen in front of his face and smiled. Luckily, he’d been “staring” at her face while examined her stats, and not somewhere else.

“Sorry about that. And yes, you are very pretty.” Reivan teased back, not wanting to be on the back foot all the time. “It's just that your beauty is truly captivating. I couldn't help but be momentarily lost in admiration."

Elsamina's laughter danced in the air, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and delight. However, the next moment, she turned serious once more.

“I’ll be serious here, Sir Ken,” she said, crossing her arms. “In the past, I’d have run away from this kind of life, never looking back ever again.”

“Understandable.”

“Now, I don’t really care either way. And I still have people I wish to look after, so I don’t intend to do that. For now.”

“The girls back in Ballor’s main brothel?” Reivan nodded in understanding. “You don’t have to worry about them, I have people back in Arkhan who will make sure they’re safe from anything Ballor had planned… which turned out to be a very slow-acting poison that would have killed them all if he didn’t return in time to administer the antidote. Luckily, the poison is well-known and we’ve prepared antidotes ahead of time.”

“It seems like I have another thing I have to thank you for…” Elsamina clasped her trembling hands in on the table, as if in prayer, and bowed to him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Think nothing of it.” Reivan dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m just taking care of my future employees.”

“Future employees…?” Elsamina looked up, a slight frown on her face. “And what will their jobs entail, exactly…?”

“Not whatever you think, surely. With your and their permission, I’ll have them work under you. Though they will have to receive a bit of training and education, particularly in writing, reading, and basic mathematics. Oh, but if they wish, they can continue with their current line of work… though I highly doubt they'd want to. They can also just leave. I’ll send them off with a tidy sum to help them start over — the offer is available to you as well, by the way.”

“I see…” Elsamina looked down in thought before she sprung up, her eyes filled with resolve. “I’ll work for you. No, please let me work for you.”

“Are you sure...?”

“Yes. If only to ensure that those girls will live well, then I’ll do anything.”

“I see.” Reivan smiled widely under his mask while internally pumping his fist in celebration. “Welcome aboard, vice-leader.”

“Thank you for having me, master.” Elsamina’s lips formed an enchanting smile.

“Master…?” He frowned, looking away from her. “Shouldn’t it be boss or sir?”

“Do you dislike it?”

“Not in particular…”

“Then master it is,” she decided. “Oh, and can I ask for a small favor before I actually join?”

“I just called you the vice-leader so I thought you’ve already joined…” Reivan grumbled but then sighed. He gestured for her to go on with his hand.

“Thank you, master.” Elsamina dipped her head slightly. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would like to see my greatest benefactor’s face.”

“Oh. My face…”

‘What should I do here…’

After thinking about it for a bit, he was in disguise. That's why it was all but impossible for her to see a connection between his current persona and Aizen’s second prince — not that she’d know what the second prince from a foreign nation looked like anyway.

‘And besides, the gang members already saw my fake face…’

Deciding that there were no problems with showing off a fabricated face, Reivan took off his mask. “There, happy?”

“Thank you for indulging my request, master.” Elsamina scanned him with her eyes and nodded. “I knew it. You’re really handsome. You’ll have no trouble seducing girls in the future.”

"Bah." Reivan waved her off and stood up. "I assume that's it? You're now truly my subordinate, yes?"

"Yes, master. This humble one's body and soul is yours to command."

"Phrasing, please. Fix it." He warned before sighing in exasperation. "We won't be seeing each other for a while since I'll be shipping you back to the republic after this."

Elsamina looked visibly upset at this. "Can't I stay a bit more? I've always dreamed about Aizen, you see..."

"Worgon hardly represents Aizen, so you're not missing anything. Besides, you can come back here during your free time in the future. I can get you as many vacation visas to Aizen as you want."

"Really? Then... can I bring others with me...?"

"Yes, you can."

"Thank you, master!"

Reivan averted his gaze from the excited woman, who'd neglected to hide her outrageous assets.

'It's hard to be a gentleman...'

"It's late now, so my men will escort you to the inn that Ballor has reserved and paid for already." Reivan placed a small pouch on the table. "Tomorrow afternoon, you and Xanthus will ride the ferry back to Arkhan. You can spend the time before that as you see fit. And here's a bonus that you can spend however you want."

"Understood." Elsamina stood up and bowed as low as she could, her face devoid of mischief. "Once again, thank you, master. For everything."

"I plan to work you to the bone, so don't thank me yet."

With a smirk, Reivan turned around and made to leave through the ruined pub's door. Just as he was about to step through the doorway, he remembered something.

He turned around and called out. "Miss Elsamina."

"Yes, master?" she tilted her head. "Oh, and you can just call me Elsa."

"Then, Elsa." Reivan nodded, thinking nothing of it. "Containers must be emptied before they can be filled."

"What?" His words did nothing but confuse her, it seemed.

Undeterred, he continued. "Right now, the loss of many things and the accomplishment of your vengeance may have caused you to feel like you lack purpose. Maybe you feel like you're just an empty husk now."

Elsamina's shoulders twitched as if he'd stepped on her tail.

"But do remember that you cannot fill a cup that's full. You may have lost the family you were hoping to meet one day, and the man you desired to slay, but... there are other things that can fill your heart, not just hope, sadness, and vengeance. Friends and comrades, hobbies and dreams, maybe even love. Life has so much more to it — so much you can be passionate about. And I hope you can rediscover its beauty one day."

"Master..."

"Well, that's all." Reivan cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed that the speech he ripped off resonated with him more than he expected. "We'll meet again when I see you off to Arkhan."

He turned around, leaving her to ruminate on his words. But just as he was about to walk through the doorway, he was stopped — again.

"Master, wait!"

"What is it this time..."

'I swear to god if she teases me with those tits of hers, I'll go nuts and just grab it. You can't push a man too far, you know!'

"I will take your words to heart. But there was something I was meaning to ask..."

"Speak."

"The organization..." Elsamina looked him in the eyes and smiled. "You didn't tell me what it was called yet. Surely you don't intend to keep the old name, right?"

"Oh, that's true..."

'Crap. I haven't thought of one yet!'

He racked his brain for ideas when he was struck with inspiration.

Back in his past life, Zell — disguised as Bertram — had run The Coiling Serpent charity organization on a whim. Reivan's discovery of it had actually been the catalyst for them to form a bit of a bond. Of course, she had known Reivan way before that, but without Reivan's exaggerated donation to the foundation, Zell wouldn't have visited Reivan just before he died. The resulting future may have been entirely different from the one he was living now.

The Coiling Serpent.

Reivan's vast experience in reading web novels had given him some obscure knowledge and trivia of various things, including — but not limited to — serpents.

Cultural, historical, and contextual factors aside, Serpents were a symbol of healing due to how medicine could be made from their poison. They were also a symbol of transformation and rebirth due to how they shed their skin and grew a new set every time.

Aside from that, a coiling serpent also symbolized infinity and eternity.

'Yep. I really like it. Let's go with that.'

Thinking about it, Reivan realized that the symbol embodied his past, his present, and his ambitions for the future.

It was perfect for him.

'And I have a snake friend too, so it matches me even more!'

That pretty much settled it then.

"Ouroboros."

Reivan smiled to himself, savoring how the name rolled off his tongue.

"We are Ouroboros."Shit. How does this make any sense!?'

At this point, he could only chalk it up to how he’d been a virgin for a combined total of more than forty years. In fact, if he counted how he’d been stuck in a dream for an immeasurable amount of time, one could even argue that he’d been a virgin far longer than the existence of humanity itself.

If anyone had the right to be horny, it was him.

Even after he’d gained an increased resistance to pretty women because Kyouka had been stuck to him like glue for most of his life, that still didn’t change the fact that his little guy had never gotten any action!

‘It must be her hormones or whatever, right? Or was it pheromones...? They must be running on overdrive all the time or something. Dammit.’

As Reivan sat there stunned, he was brought back to reality by Elsamina’s giggling.

“Am I that pretty?” She playfully concealed her smile behind her delicate hand, her eyes twinkling with mischief. With a graceful gesture, she swept a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a subtle yet alluring movement that accentuated her beauty. “You’ve been staring at my face for so long. And so blatantly too… You're free to take a closer look, you know?”

‘Crap. I can’t believe I did that thing that system users in novels do…’

He dispersed the semi-transparent screen in front of his face and smiled. Luckily, he’d been “staring” at her face, and not somewhere else.

“Sorry about that. And yes, you are very pretty.” Reivan teased back, not wanting to be on the back foot all the time. “It's just that your beauty is truly captivating. I couldn't help but be momentarily lost in admiration."

Elsamina's laughter danced in the air, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and delight. However, the next moment, she turned serious once more.

“I’ll be serious here, Sir Ken,” she said, crossing her arms. “In the past, I’d have run away from this kind of life and never look back ever again.”

“Understandable.”

“Now, I don’t really care either way. And I still have people I wish to look after, so I don’t intend to do that for now.”

“The girls back in Ballor’s main brothel?” Reivan nodded in understanding. “You don’t have to worry about them, I have people back in Arkhan who will make sure they’re safe from anything Ballor had planned… which turned out to be a very slow-acting poison that would have killed them all if he didn’t return in time to administer the antidote. Luckily, the poison is well-known and we’ve prepared antidotes ahead of time.”

“It seems like I have another thing I have to thank you for…” Elsamina clasped her trembling hands in on the table, as if in prayer, and bowed to him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Think nothing of it.” Reivan dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m just taking care of my future employees.”

“Future employees…?” Elsamina looked up, a slight frown on her face. “And what will their jobs entail, exactly…?”

“Not whatever you think, surely. With your and their permission, I’ll have them work under you. Though they will have to receive a bit of training and education, particularly in writing, reading, and basic mathematics. Oh, but if they wish, they can continue with their current line of work… though I highly doubt they'd want to. They can also just leave. I’ll send them off with a tidy sum to help them start over — the offer is available to you as well, by the way.”

“I see…” Elsamina looked down in thought before she sprung up, her eyes filled with resolve. “I’ll work for you. No, please let me work for you.”

“Are you sure...?”

“Yes. If only to ensure that those girls will live well, then I’ll do anything.”

“I see.” Reivan smiled widely under his mask while internally pumping his fist in celebration. “Welcome aboard, vice-leader.”

“Thank you for having me, master.” Elsamina’s lips formed an enchanting smile.

“Master…?” He frowned, looking away from her. “Shouldn’t it be boss or sir?”

“Do you dislike it?”

“Not in particular…”

“Then master it is,” she decided. “Oh, and can I ask for a small favor before I actually join?”

“I just called you the vice-leader so I thought you’ve already joined…” Reivan grumbled but then sighed. He gestured for her to go on with his hand.

“Thank you, master.” Elsamina dipped her head slightly. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would like to see my greatest benefactor’s face.”

“Oh. My face…”

‘What should I do here…’

After thinking about it for a bit, he was in disguise. That's why it was all but impossible for her to see a connection between his current persona and Aizen’s second prince — not that she’d know what the second prince from a foreign nation looked like anyway.

‘And besides, the gang members already saw my fake face…’

Deciding that there were no problems with showing off a fabricated face, Reivan took off his mask. “There, happy?”

“Thank you for indulging my request, master.” Elsamina scanned him with her eyes and nodded. “I knew it. You’re really handsome. You’ll have no trouble getting women into your bed.”

"Bah." Reivan waved her off and stood up. "I assume that's it? You're now truly my subordinate, yes?"

"Yes, master. This humble one's body and soul is yours to command."

"Phrasing." He warned before sighing in exasperation. "We won't be seeing each other for a while since I'll be shipping you back to the republic after this."

Elsamina looked visibly upset at this. "Can't I stay a bit more? I've always dreamed about Aizen, you see..."

"Worgon hardly represents Aizen, so you're not missing anything. Besides, you can come back here during your free time in the future. I can get you as many vacation visas to Aizen as you want."

"Really? Then... can I bring others with me...?"

"Yes, you can."

"Thank you, master!"

Reivan averted his gaze from the excited woman, who'd neglected to hide her outrageous assets.

'It's hard to be a gentleman...'

"It's late now, so my men will escort you to the inn that Ballor has reserved and paid for already." Reivan placed a small pouch on the table. "Tomorrow afternoon, you and Xanthus will ride the ferry back to Arkhan. You can spend the time before that as you see fit. And here's a bonus that you can spend however you want."

"Understood." Elsamina stood up and bowed as low as she could, her face devoid of mischief. "Once again, thank you, master. For everything."

"I plan to work you to the bone, so don't thank me yet."

With a smirk, Reivan turned around and made to leave through the ruined pub's door.

"Master."

"What is it this time..."

'I swear to god if she teases me with those tits of hers, I'll go nuts and just grab it. You can't push a man too far, you know!'

"The organization..." Elsamina looked him in the eyes and smiled. "You didn't tell me what it was called yet. Surely you don't intend to keep the old name, right?"

"Oh, that's true..."

'Crap. I haven't thought of one yet!'

He racked his brain for ideas when he was struck with inspiration.

Back in his past life, Zell — disguised as Bertram — had run The Coiling Serpent charity organization on a whim. Reivan's discovery of it had actually been the catalyst for them to form a bit of a bond. Of course, she had known Reivan way before that, but without Reivan's exaggerated donation to the foundation, Zell wouldn't have visited Reivan just before he died. The resulting future may have been entirely different from the one he was living now.

The Coiling Serpent.

Reivan's vast experience in reading web novels had given him some obscure knowledge and trivia of various things, including — but not limited to — serpents.

Cultural, historical, and contextual factors aside, Serpents were a symbol of healing due to how medicine could be made from their poison. They were also a symbol of transformation and rebirth due to how they shed their skin and grow a new set every time.

Aside from that, a coiling serpent also symbolized infinity and eternity.

'Yep. I really like it. Let's go with that.'

Thinking about it, Reivan realized that the symbol embodied his past, his present, and his ambitions for the future.

It was perfect for him.

'And I have a snake friend too, so it matches me even more!'

That pretty much settled it then.

"Ouroboros."

Reivan smiled to himself, savoring how the name rolled off his tongue.

"We are Ouroboros."

Arc#3 Chapter 49: Emptiness

“Now then!” Reivan spoke with enthusiasm, trying to rid his mind of the wonderful view he’d been unexpectedly treated to. From his spacial ring, he took out three black marbles that appeared to be made of some black glass-like material. “You three — Greyviel, Elvar, and Desmor — will have to swallow these slave pellets. This is the minimum concession I expect from you gentlemen.”

"Slave pellets?" Greyviel looked bewildered, staring at the contents of the youth's hand. "I've never heard of them before..."

"Understandable. This is the first time they're seeing use outside of test subjects, after all." Reivan fiddled with the three marbles, each the size of a pea. "Once swallowed, they are effectively the same as slave collars — except they skip the strangling and restraining part, going straight into the killing part. At first, I thought it'd be better to just make it blow up the person's stomach, but that would be far too gruesome, don't you think? And the victim could use it to take their master out on a journey to the afterlife together. As such, although I won't tell you for secrecy's sake, the way it'll kill the victim has been made more subtle."

Ignoring the strange looks on the three men's faces, Reivan smiled at them.

"This is much better than going around with a collar, no? This way, your status as a slave isn't apparent to anyone with two working eyeballs."

Desmor just looked uneasily at his elder brother, while Elvar’s face contorted into a grimace. They were both filled with apprehension, but still, the two said nothing. They likely knew that they weren’t in a position to negotiate after they barely kept their lives.

Greyviel, on the other hand, was different. With a slight frown on his usually calm face, he stroked his long white beard. “Is that not going too far, Mr. Ken? As the young lady mentioned earlier, harmony breeds wealth. I find it hard to fathom how we can truly work together if one side's freedom is restricted.”

Reivan's masked face remained impassive as he listened to Greyviel's words. He understood the old man's concern, but he couldn't afford to let his guard down. "Mr. Greyviel, I appreciate your perspective on harmony and wealth. However, in this particular situation, these tools serve as a necessary precaution. I don’t have the hobby of being betrayed, after all.”

“You don’t trust us.”

“Of course, I don’t. Of the two brothers, one’s a pedophile that had intentions of working with an organization like the silver cross, and then the fat one’s… well, dumb. I wouldn’t put it past him to reveal sensitive information without even noticing what he’d done."

The two brothers looked offended, but Reivan continued.

"And as for you, old sorcerer, your swift judgment to switch sides proves your wisdom and decisiveness, but otherwise makes your lack of loyalty apparent. Furthermore, your previous action of blowing Ballor — someone who should've been a comrade to you — to the other side of the room is enough proof that you can’t be trusted easily.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Ken, Ballor was a contemptible individual. Though I admit I personally felt annoyed by him, I believe most people would agree that the world would be a much better place without him.”

Elsamina nodded vigorously. “I agree with that part…”

Reivan could feel a smile form on his face as he listened to the red-haired woman.

‘It’s great that she’s speaking up now.’

If she’d remained too timid, it would have made Reivan’s plans for her a bit harder. But it seemed that he had worried for nothing. Throwing another glance at Elsamina, Reivan’s gaze was pulled to her chest area before he could stop himself, causing him to be relieved and sad when he discovered that she’d already fully covered herself up with the cloak he’d given her.

Turning back to the elderly sorcerer, Reivan stubbornly shook his head. “As I said, this is my minimum condition. Don’t worry, the only order I’ll be giving you through it is that you can’t betray me or the organizations I belong to. You all will remain mostly autonomous.”

Greyviel calmed down a little upon hearing his words, but there was still a bit of defiance in the old man’s eyes.

“And what if we refuse?”

Reivan chuckled as the knights on his left and right glowered menacingly at Greyviel, daring him to try anything. Even Xanthus placed his hand on the pommel of his sheathed blade.

‘The jammers have fully taken effect at this point. He can’t resist even if he wanted to.’

Whether it be sorcery or those runestone knock-offs called spell balls, both would be ineffective in this room — not after the imperial invention called spell jammers had destabilized the atmospheric mana in the surroundings.

And since the old man didn’t have a soul-bond or the expertise to use advanced magic power application, then he was currently as threatening as any other old man you could find off the street.

Greyviel likely knew this too since a resigned sigh escaped his lips. “I suppose this is the fate of the defeated.”

“Indeed, it is.”

The three men each took one of the slave pellets and looked at the tiny black object — the obsidian-like material glimmered faintly with minuscule runes similar to the ones present on a sorcerer's wand. With hesitation on their faces and a knight behind them prepared to part their heads from their bodies should they refuse, they all threw the tiny pellets into their mouths and swallowed with aid from glasses of water that Reivan gave out.

Their eyes shimmered with a piercing blue light before dimming back to their original state, signifying the irrevocable loss of their freedom.

“Wonderful.” Reivan clapped before standing up and stepping aside, gesturing at the door. “You can all leave now. And remember, don’t look for me. I will come to you.”

“Then I will take my leave.” Greyviel bowed respectfully before marching out the door, throwing a glance at Xanthus as he passed by.

The two brothers also moved to take their leave right after. Reivan had wondered how Desmor could have possibly made the trip here, but the question he never got to ask was immediately answered when Elvar pulled out a large and heavy-duty wheelchair from his spacial ring.

‘He’s surprisingly strong even though he looks so thin. Or maybe he’s just used to it?’

Elvar helped his obese brother climb onto the wheelchair and then pushed him out through the double doors, leaving Reivan, Xanthus, Elsamina, two knights, and a barely-alive Ballor in the chamber.

‘Whoops. Almost forgot about that guy.’

##########

Truth be told, Reivan had expected Ballor to die in the previous battle, perhaps as a shield for Valmir, their boss.

However, everything went far smoother than expected, since the ex-battlemage’s injuries were more severe than they had expected, making the battle end quicker. For secrecy’s sake, the knights had ended up using some consumables, but it wasn’t anything to cry over since the runestone they had used was easily crafted by Valter yesterday.

‘I have the darkness attribute too, so I should be able to do that eventually, right?’

An ordinary mortal may not have caught sight of it, but Reivan’s eyes were special. That’s why he was able to see what looked like a black hole swallow Valmir’s all-or-nothing attack.

‘That was so cool… Oh, wait a minute. Focus, focus… this isn’t the time for this.’

“Xanthus, could you drag that person over?” Reivan gestured lazily at Ballor and sat back down on his chair. He also procured one for Elsamina, but she refused, evidently preferring to stand.

“Understood.”

Following Reivan’s orders, Xanthus strode over to where Ballor was and literally dragged the man over, his thin body drawing a fresh trail of blood on the already bloody carpet. The silent warrior roughly set the unconscious sorcerer in front of where Reivan was sitting and then started stripping Ballor of anything that could be used to resist — a wand, a small enchanted dagger, and four spacial rings which contained a variety of items that the bastard had been hoarding.

As Xanthus did his work, Reivan did his best to accommodate the most pitiful person in the room. He took out a flask of water from a certain serpent’s stomach and offered it to her.

“Thank you, sir.” Perhaps because she’d already refused him earlier, she reluctantly accepted.

Reivan was very satisfied by her acceptance, thinking that the road to a harmonious partnership started with small acts like these. He took out a flask of his own, took a sip, enjoyed the coldness of the beverage, then poured the rest of the flask’s contents on Ballor’s head.

"Ugh!" Ballor groaned, his consciousness gradually returning. His eyelids fluttered as his mind seemingly struggled to regain stability.

“Good day, Mr. Ballor.” Reivan drawled, a sneer on his face as he sent Xanthus a glance.

With a blank look on his face, Xanthus kicked Ballor in the stomach, forcefully expelling the air from the sorcerer’s lungs. The sudden violent act made Elsamina flinch, but Reivan soon saw the corner of her lips twitch upward while she watched Ballor have a coughing fit.

Drool dripping from his mouth, Ballor raised his head and stared at Reivan with sharp eyes. “A kid…?”

“How rude. At least call me a young man.” Reivan chuckled. Despite his demeanor though, his thoughts were cold as ice.

'Should I just have him killed?'

Throwing him into Grimharbor Penitentiary was an option, but that had the possibility of connecting his persona as Ken — the gang boss — to Aizen. Creating some elaborate way to make it so that the authorities just so happen to find the criminal would be far too much of a pain too, so it would be better to not get the government involved in this.

While Ballor could have been useful under careful supervision, Reivan placed a higher value on Elsamina and her abilities. Considering their relationship, it was unlikely that she would align herself with an organization that included Ballor.

So, considering the situation, the choice was obvious — Ballor had to go.

And given his knowledge, worthlessness, and the likelihood that he lacked the necessary karma to be accepted into heaven, Reivan saw no alternative but to consign the man to the depths of hell.

Just as he was about to ask Xanthus to lop the fool's head off, Reivan was suddenly struck with a brilliant idea when he unconsciously threw a glance at Elsamina's chest for the umpteenth time.

'Isn't this perfect? She should be raring to have a go at this guy. It'll be the perfect way to build some rapport!'

Reivan nodded at his own brilliance before turning to the redhead standing to the side. “Well? What do you propose we do to this?”

##########

"Huh...?" Elsamina’s eyes widened and bewilderment crossed her face. “You’re asking m-me, sir?”

“Yes.”

Gaining confirmation, Elsamina looked stumped as her eyes fell on the man who’d caused her more than a decade’s worth of suffering.

The youth's beautiful blue eyes locked onto her as he spoke gently. “Ms. Elsamina, you of all people know what this man has done. And you know full well what he can do. I understand if your kind nature made you feel mercy for Desmor, but even a saint wouldn’t bestow compassion upon a bastard like this.”

“B-but why me…”

“Call it a gift from me. You get to choose his fate.” Ken smiled and looked down at the sorcerer. “Cut him, boil him, make him into a stew for all I care. I have no intentions of enslaving you, Ms. Elsamina, so you’re a free man now… Uh, a free woman, I mean. Let this be your first opportunity to exercise that privilege.”

Xanthus then stepped forward and handed the confused Elsamina two things — a gun and the enchanted dagger that Ballor had on his person.

The youth gestured at the man on the ground. "End him immediately or end him slowly. The choice is yours."

Ken's words still echoing inside her head, Elsamina couldn't help but gulp as she looked at the objects in her hands. It wasn't her first time holding weapons, but she had only ever held them as a slave.

Now? She wasn't restricted by anything.

The freedom to do whatever she wanted with the weapons made her hands tremble. How many times had she dreamed about taking a gun and using Ballor's testicles for target practice? How many times had she wished to stab a fork into that hateful man's eyeball and twist it around while he screamed louder than the filthiest whore? And how many times did she wish for the gods above to enact justice by ridding the world of a living plague like him?

Too many to count.

Every time that man forced himself on her, let other people toy with her, or beat a new girl to death, Elsamina vehemently prayed to every god she knew.

To save them.

To help them.

To get them out of this unfortunate life.

'Now... Now I can do it myself.'

The gun would end things too fast, so Elsamina's gaze focused on the enchanted dagger — which she knew from experience had the effect of heating up after contact and making the victim more sensitive to pain. She could almost see the faces of all the unfortunate girls the dagger slew reflected on the surface of the blade, screaming at her to avenge them.

"You..." Elsamina looked up and bit her trembling lips as she neared Ballor, who was now tied up and laying face-up on the bloody floor. "My brother..."

"H-hey, don't come near me with that!" Ballor's sallow face was drenched with blood, sweat, and snot as he tried to slowly squirm away.

Unfortunately, Xanthus would break all of his hopes.

"You're moving too much, Ballor." The usually quiet knight casually placed a foot on Ballor's knee before stepping down.

A sickening snap echoed through the air, followed by Ballor's wild screaming. Barely ten seconds passed before another crack reverberated as Xanthus broke Ballor's other knee.

Elsamina flinched, stopping in her tracks. But she eventually regained enough courage to ask the burning question in her mind. "You said my brother was dead... Was that... Was that true...?"

"That..." Ballor seemed to be flickering in and out of consciousness, but his eyes seemed to regain some light at her words. "Th-that was a lie. I just s-said that... to mess with you. If you tell these guys to lay off, I'll take you to your brother. Only I know where he is, so..."

"He's lying. Just so you know."

Elsamina chuckled helplessly in despair. She did not need the mysterious youth's strangely confident remark to convince her that Ballor was lying.

'He's dead...'

Strangely, the realization no longer stirred anger within her. If that was a sign that she'd long accepted the fact, Elsamina didn't know. However, she knew she would never be the same after today.

With slow steps, she stepped toward Ballor and straddled him. It was something she'd been forced to do countless times in the past. This was the first and last time she would ever do it willingly.

"This is for you, Emil," Elsamina spoke to her little brother in the afterlife and closed her eyes for a moment. Once they opened, she slowly drove the dagger into the middle of Ballor's chest.

The room filled with the sound of his screams and the scent of burning flesh, yet Elsamina remained blankly fixated on the eyes of the man who had destroyed her life.

"AHHH! SHIT! STOP IT! I DON'T WANNA DIE! FUCK! FUCK!!"

Despite Ballor's fierce struggles, she continued to plunge the dagger deeper and deeper into his body...

"YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH! STOP IT! STOP RIGHT NOW...!"

Slowly...

"IT HURTS! FUCK! SHIT! AGH...!"

Slowly...

"Stop it... please..."

...until the entire blade was buried within the wretched man's chest

"You b-bitch..." were Ballor's last words as his gaze gradually lost focus, his breath ceasing.

Still holding the hilt of the dagger, Elsamina was expressionless as he stared at the corpse's face. The stench of burning flesh continued to invade her senses, but none of that mattered to her right now.

'He's dead...'

Years and years and years of suffering, hatred, and oppression... Elsamina felt like Ballor's death provided an ending to that story.

'It's finally over...'

As the reality of what she had accomplished sunk in, Elsamina felt a multitude of emotions well up within her. Relief, tinged with a sense of liberation washed over her, feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her soul after Ballor's demise.

'It's over...'

However, amidst the calmness that enveloped her, a pang of emptiness echoed within. Ballor's death hadn't magically erased all of the scars etched into her heart and soul. Nor could it bring back the innocence she'd been robbed of and the people he'd slain for frivolous reasons.

The object of her hatred was dead. And Emil, her little brother, was gone as well.

Elsamina didn't know much about the mysterious youth that would apparently take over the Silver Cross, but Ken didn't strike her as someone who would oppress the young girls back in Arkhan without reason.

So with that, Elsamina no longer had a purpose.

Nobody to loathe, no family to seek out, and no one she needed to protect.

Should she even continue living? Perhaps she could just use the loaded gun to end her own life right this instant.

Feeling lost and unsure, Elsamina turned her blank gaze to the mysterious youth, Ken, who had quietly watched the entire scene unfold.

"What do I do now...?"

Arc#3 Chapter 48: The Damsel's Mercy

‘So that’s how it feels like to shoot someone.’

Strangely, it didn’t really feel like anything… until he looked at the spot he’d shot.

‘Okay, now I feel kind of bad… or not.’

Aside from just discovering that Elvar was a pedophile, Reivan didn’t think the man was a bad person.

That said, Reivan still needed a few pieces of information from him. In particular, Reivan needed to know who facilitated the deal between the Silver Cross and a clothes merchant. It was something that had happened before Reivan was even aware that organizations in Arkhan’s underbelly were thinking of expanding into Aizen, so he naturally had very little information about the subject.

Reivan basically just wanted the man to spill the beans on who introduced him to the underground organization. He hadn’t even intended to get violent on the businessman, but the fool’s taste in sexual partners disgusted Reivan.

Perhaps this was the time to beat some sense into the sicko. He couldn't allow this bastard to stay anywhere near the places his little sisters frequented.

“I…” Elvar wiped the drool from his mouth as he glared up at Reivan while cradling his bloody shoulder. “I have connections.”

“I am aware, Mr. Elvar.” Reivan rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, all of them are as useful as your younger brother. You'll have to do better than that.”

“Not all of them are useless. I…” The man hesitated for what seemed like an eternity before he finally said, “I have a connection with an Aizenian minister.”

Reivan’s eyes widened before he caught himself, pretending to be unmoved. Unfortunately, the knights on either side of him failed to do so.

With a clear of his throat to gather everyone’s attention to himself and away from the knights, Reivan chuckled at the man. “Aizen has a different way of governing than the republic and empire, you know? Perhaps you mistook a clerk or an administrator as a minis—”

“I’m sure,” Elvar emphasized. “They’re a high minister.”

“A high minister…”

This time, Reivan couldn’t hide his surprise.

Specialized departments and whatnot aside, all civil officials serving in Aizen’s governance started off as civil associates before becoming Administrators — officers that managed a team of associates and handled all sorts of other tasks that a Minister assigned to them.

After showing merit, and if a position opened up, then they would be promoted to Ministers. Show more merit and ministers get promoted to High Ministers.

And a high minister that’s given a very large responsibility such as managing one of Aizen’s cities is bestowed the esteemed title of Grand Minister.

Purely in a bureaucratic aspect, the only position higher than a Grand Minister is the Primero or otherwise known as the Prime Minister — who obtains this position by being personally appointed by the current king.

Seeing as the Primero was a special case where even a no-name Administrator can become the most important bureaucrat in the nation, the normal ranks from lowest to highest were associates, administrators, ministers, high ministers, and grand ministers.

Without question, a High Minister held a very prestigious position in Aizen's government.

‘A high minister is colluding with this piece of shit?’

The lack of notification from [Essence of Falsehood] meant that there was some truth to Elvar’s words — which consequently made Reivan’s mood worsen.

Still, perhaps he was jumping the gun.

“Mr. Elvar…” Reivan rubbed his chin in thought. “There are varying grades of connections. I myself know quite a lot of people, but if someone were to ask me if I would do them a favor? The answer would be a resounding NO for most of them. Do you think just introducing yourself to them once is enough to call it a connection?”

Elvar shook his head, still clutching his bloody leg and shoulder. “It’s not like that… he... uh..."

"Stop wasting time and spit it out."

"W-wait! Don't shoot! He helps me sneak in more goods than what I declare! Th-that's why the tariffs I pay are much lower! I c-c-could even sneak in restricted goods like wands!”

“I see…”

‘But why, though…?’

It was an Aizenian tradition that people in high governmental positions don’t get salaries. But this only applied to the Primero and the grand ministers. High ministers still obtained quite a few benefits, including a hefty sum of lumens per month.

What could Elvar possibly have that would make a high minister take such a huge risk?

Under Reivan’s questioning gaze, Elvar reluctantly divulged the truth. “He… well, the minister has feelings for me…”

Reivan frowned, wishing he’d heard wrong. “...Excuse me?”

“I said that… he likes me.”

‘Yeah, that’s what I heard the first time…’

“Mr. Elvar…” Reivan massaged his temples and looked at the man strangely. “Do you mean as friends and colleagues or…”

“Romantically. He, uh, he likes me in a romantic way...” Elvar bit his lips and cast his gaze downward.

‘Holy fuck…’

Reivan wasn’t that shocked about the homosexual preferences of the High Minister in question. From the very start, the first king of Aizen had already prepared the common populace to be a bit more... accepting.

What stunned him the most was the fact that the fool chose to commit treason just to impress a romantic partner.

'The guy's not even a hunk. Why would you commit treason for this sallow-faced piece of shit!?'

His mind raced as he processed the revelation.

The foreign merchant’s admission had revealed that even Aizen wasn’t safe from having unsavory individuals ascend to positions of power. Those who were already in influential positions were not impervious to the allure of personal gain either, willing to exploit their authority for their own selfish pursuits.

Still, this was not a concern to Reivan’s current persona. Right now, he was Ken, the mysterious youth from a mysterious organization.

Of course, he still had to investigate this matter and consult his father on how to proceed — after all, he was the corrupt official’s ultimate superior.

While secretly sending a thought transmission to his father through a communication crystal, Reivan clapped his hands mockingly, a smirk behind his mask.

“If that’s how it is, perhaps you truly still have some uses, Mr. Elvar. Let’s just hope the High Minister’s treachery isn’t discovered too soon, hm?”

“Yes…” Elvar heaved a sigh of relief but froze the moment he heard the masked youth’s next words.

“Well, now all you have to do is prove your little brother’s worth.”

Confusion and panic flashed across the man’s face. “What are you…”

Reivan tilted his head, doing his best to appear bewildered by the man’s confusion. “Do you not understand? I will spare your life because you still have some uses, Mr. Elvar. But your brother does not share those uses, and so he must die.”

“But that’s not what you…!” Elvar seemed to struggle to find the words, his breathing becoming rough from getting too worked up. “That wasn’t our deal!”

“We never had a deal, Mr. Elvar.” Reivan shook his head. “I want you and your brother dead because you know too much. But, feeling merciful, I asked you to state your uses. That was to convince me that leaving you alive would serve me more than your corpses. As for the deal you mentioned, perhaps it was all just a misunderstanding on your part.”

Elvar grew tense as Reivan's true intentions unveiled themselves. His eyes widened in disbelief and horror as he realized the twisted game that was being played.

“You…” Elvar seemed to realize something, regaining a bit of courage. “You need my help to ask the high minister for favors! Do you think I’ll still be so cooperative if you kill my brother!?”

“I suppose your full cooperation would be impossible if that were the case.” Reivan nodded in agreement. “However, Mr. Elvar, we can achieve the same — if not better — results if we just use you as a hostage, don’t you think?”

The sullen man sunk to his knees, his face slicked with cold sweat. He looked up at the masked youth in horror. “You monster…”

In response, Reivan wasn’t offended, merely smiling with his eyes. “It is you who chose to dip a toe into the underside of society while lacking the power to stay afloat, Mr. Elvar. Not me. I’m just doing what I have to.”

‘Surely you have more information to divulge. Now’s the time for you to spill any beans you’re hiding!’

Reivan naturally didn’t have any strong desires to get rid of both brothers, merely giving them a hard time so they told him everything they knew. As for their silence, he could easily achieve that by strapping a slave collar around their necks.

“Kill him.” Reivan’s apathetic voice echoed out, prompting one of the knights to point a gun at the cowering Desmor’s head.

The knight, knowing the prince’s true intentions, naturally didn’t pull the trigger immediately.

“P-please!” Elvar pleaded, his face marred by tears and snot. “Not my brother!”

“Brother…” Desmor stared at his elder brother with worry before biting his lip and closing his eyes, seemingly accepting his fate.

Just as Reivan was about to send a thought transmission for the knight to shoot the fatty in the foot, a woman’s urgent voice cut in from the side.

“Uhm!” Elsamina seemed to immediately regret speaking up, but her eyes soon filled with resolve. “P-please spare him…”

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉─

“P-please spare him…” Elsamina didn’t know what compelled her to voice her opinion or desires in this room full of people who could decide her life and death, but the words had already left her mouth before she could suck them back in.

‘Now I’ve done it…’

If she’d learned anything from her years in the brothel, it’s that men in power didn’t like people interrupting them, nor did they like it when someone had a different opinion. Especially if it came from some uneducated whore.

And Elsamina had just done all of those things by going against the youth’s intentions of killing the obese man.

Surprisingly, however, Ken signaled for the hooded man to halt. He then turned toward Elsamina with a smile. “And why should I?”

Elsamina would have interpreted those words as a rhetorical question had it come from someone like Ballor or anyone who lacked enough morals to associate with Ballor. But the youth in front of her seemed to be asking an honest question.

As such, her mind raced to provide a satisfying answer. In this tense situation, her father’s past teachings from before their family’s collapse surfaced in her mind.

In a negotiation, never expect the other side to sympathize with you. It was foolish to appeal to them emotionally.

That’s why you must entice them with benefits.

‘So first things first... What does he want?’

From the conversations so far, she knew that Ken wanted money. And likely, the new organization he would lead would be meant to generate the funds to help satisfy whatever financial needs he had.

However, Elvar and his Brother could no longer provide that.

Elsamina had no way of confirming the authenticity of Ken’s statements, but he had mentioned that his spies had already infiltrated Elvar’s businesses and could take it over easily.

‘So, what else is there…?’

Frankly, she was stumped.

With a sigh, Elsamina just decided to do her best, even though the chances of convincing the mysterious youth were slim.

“Mr. Ken, even if you could take over their company instantly, or use Mr. Elvar as a hostage to make the high minister do your bidding, this will inevitably spark… conflict. Those in the company who are indebted to Mr. Elvar or have some form of loyalty or positive relationship would be reluctant to support the usurper. And the high minister may also have unexpected tricks up their sleeves — after all, someone incompetent wouldn’t have been able to rise to such a high position in the kingdom’s government…”

By the time she finished, Elsamina was already out of breath, but she still didn’t feel like she’d convinced Ken, so she continued.

“My father was someone who admired the Star of Fortune’s maxim — Harmony breeds Wealth. As such, even if you could still obtain plenty of benefits by being forceful, in the end, I believe that there is an opportunity for long-term benefits by... by coexisting.”

“Precisely. Harmony breeds wealth,” Greyviel muttered from the side, nodding in satisfaction. “Mr. Ken, I hope you don’t mind me voicing my agreement with the girl’s opinion. Though idealistic, I am also an admirer of the Star of Fortune, so I also believe there would be more benefits to letting both of them live. I’m sure Mr. Elvar will work very hard in order to allay your doubts.”

Prompted by the old merchant’s gaze, Elvar immediately nodded vigorously, prostrating himself on the ground. “Of course! Of course, I will! I will be sure to offer all the profits to you, so please have mercy, Mr. Ken— No, Boss!”

Desmor could only open and close his mouth like a fish, but he also looked hopeful at the thought of survival.

The youth’s brows furrowed as he crossed his arms in thought, causing the brothers to sweat profusely in anxiety. After all, the results of the young man’s musings decided their life and death.

Finally, Ken heaved a sigh as he signaled his subordinate to put the gun down. He then looked at Elsamina as if she were crazy. “Ms.Elsamina, I can’t understand why you would speak up for this man. Surely, you didn’t harbor any illusions that he would treat you with respect once he took you home, right?”

“That’s…” Elsamina couldn’t find the words to answer, since she also didn’t know why.

“Make no mistake, Ms. Elsamina. This man would’ve ravaged you every chance his pitiful stamina would’ve allowed. I dare not assume your tastes in men, but I’m quite certain that doing anything with this man would not be ideal for you. Or am I wrong?”

“No. You’re absolutely correct,” Elsamina replied instantly, causing Desmor’s face to fall.

As someone who’d fallen into Ballor’s clutches before she even entered puberty, romance and tastes in men were something she’d never even thought about. All she ever hoped for in a man was that they either stayed far away from her or they weren’t too rough with her body. Even so, she couldn't help but admit that Desmor was... particularly undesirable.

“Then why did you speak up for him? All while knowing that your actions could have displeased me.” Ken questioned, his tone laced with curiosity.

“I…” Elsamina thought for a bit, trying to place a name on the emotion that she had felt. In the end, she could only let out a tired laugh. “I suppose it’s because I’m too nice for my own good?”

To her relief, her light-hearted remark elicited an amused chuckle from Ken rather than anger. “Is that so? Well then, I suppose I’ll spare the big man for Ms. Elsamina’s sake.” He looked down, his voice taking on a colder tone. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“Th-thank you…” Elvar stammered while still groveling on the ground, his expression a mixture of gratitude and other complex emotions.

As Elvar — the man who’d looked at her like a piece of merchandise to gift to his little brother — looked up at her, their positions reversed, Elsamina felt a tingle crawl up her spine. It was a feeling she’d never felt before, but her heart quickened as she gazed at the back of the man’s head while he prostrated on the ground.

She barely restricted the urge to step on it — to stomp on it, even.

‘What is happening to me…’

Of course, her rationality took over before she could do anything strange. Elsamina turned toward the youth and bowed in gratitude. “Thank you, benefactor.”

“I-It’s nothing.” The youth stuttered, his voice a little shaky.

When Elsamina looked up, she saw that the boy’s ears were slightly red and he trying his best to avert his eyes — though he failed, sending short but frequent glances at a certain part of Elsamina’s body.

‘Oh.’

It was then that Elsamina was reminded of how low-cut her current dress was and how much of her cleavage it exposed.

Feeling strangely embarrassed for reasons she couldn’t parse, Elsamina unconsciously straightened her posture and crossed her arms a little, doing her best to hide as much of her bosom as she could.

“Here, uhm... Cover yourself. If you want.” Ken pulled out a thick cloak from his spacial ring and tossed it at her.

Elsamina caught the cloak and stared blankly at it for a moment before draping it around her shoulders. It was both thick and soft, clearly made from exceptionally valuable materials. Though it only reached just below her knees, likely because it was modified to suit the young man's height.

‘It’s warm…’

Pulling the cloak close to her, Elsamina couldn’t help but smile, savoring the warmth from the first bit of kindness she’d received in a long while.

Arc#3 Chapter 47: Cleanup

[Author's Note]

Whoah. I was so busy with work, so I couldn't check that often, but it seems I got quite a few new patrons!

Hello there!

Thanks for the support, and I won't bore you with mushy stuff. Here's the chapter!

##########

"Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Ken, and I represent the force responsible for making a mess of things here. Oh, and I am also your Boss now. Let’s make a lot of money together, okay?"

Reivan smiled with his eyes while inwardly marveling at his ability to spout bullshit.

‘It’s amazing that everything I just said is technically true.’

That did, however, prevent [Essence of Falsehood] from making it more believable. Which wasn’t all that big of a deal, he hoped, since he’d obtained the ability precisely because he was already good at lying.

“A representative, you say?” The old man that was apparently called Greyviel stroked his beard and briefly examined Reivan from head to toe.

“Yes, I am but a mere representative.” Reivan politely answered, but he naturally didn’t forget to lace his words in venom. “Though not the leader, my position still places me above people who were… threatened to join.”

Greyviel chuckled. “Your respected self’s mouth is quite sharp despite your youth, I see.”

“Yes. It’s almost as sharp as my mind, I’ve been told.”

The old sorcerer’s smile grew wider. “I find myself liking you more and more, Mr. Ken.”

“I’ve also been told that I have an unnatural fixation on wealth, despite not having ever suffered through poverty.”

“I like you even more!”

Greyviel's laughter reverberated through the ruined chamber, filled with numerous lifeless bodies in various states of mutilation.

Reivan took out a chair from his spacial ring, immediately sitting on it. As if remembering something, he looked at two of his knights and shooed them away “You can go now. Hurry.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Thank you, Boss.”

Once they were gone in a blur, he threw a glance at the trembling woman cowering on one side of the room. “Come closer. This concerns you as well.”

The incredibly beautiful woman appeared startled by suddenly being addressed, but eventually gathered the courage to rise from her seat on the floor and cautiously approach, her long red hair bouncing and swaying with each step.

‘Poor thing…’

While Reivan had only been provided with limited information about the woman, it was more than enough to stir his empathy. Unfortunately, he had a role to play at the moment, so he couldn’t do anything about it.

“As I’ve mentioned, my name is Ken, and I represent the organization behind this whole ordeal.” Reivan crossed his legs and leaned back on his chair. “Now, it’s your turn to introduce yourselves. Formalities are there for a reason, and all that.”

Greyviel stroked his beard and dipped his head a little. “This old one is named Greyviel. Publicly, I own a famous brand of magitech appliance providers, catering mostly to the middle and lower classes.”

“And secretly?”

“Secretly, I manufacture Spell Balls and other magitech weaponry to sell to private forces that are similar to the Silver Cross. I also have a number of patrons involved in the government’s military. The deal is that they get inexpensive weapons to arm their forces instead of ordering from validated manufacturers, and they turn a blind eye to the things I do.”

Reivan stroked his chin, secretly sneering underneath his mask. “And what about the empire?”

Greyviel’s calm smile didn’t falter as he bowed. “Naturally, I have nothing to do with them.”

[Lie Detection] has activated!

“I see. Well, let’s just leave it at that.” Reivan smirked, dismissing the old man with a wave of his hand. He then pointed at the half-dead man who was embedded into the wreckage of a wooden shelf. “And that’s Ballor, I assume.”

“Yes,” Greyviel confirmed with a respectful nod of his head. “He still lives. I held back since I believed it wasn’t in my station to kill him.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to. I actually wouldn’t have minded either way, but I certainly appreciate the gesture.”

Reivan then turned his attention to the gorgeous redhead. “And you are…?”

“I’m…” The woman opened her mouth to say something, hesitated, then finally sighed. “I’m no one of importance. Just another whore.”

“Is that right…?” The masked prince chuckled. “Well, Ms. No-one-of-importance, I’m not wrong in thinking you have a name, yes? If so, I’d like to know.”

The woman seemed to hesitate for a moment, her eyes flickering with a mixture of uncertainty and vulnerability. Finally, she mustered the strength to respond.

"My name... It's… It’s Elsamina," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Elsamina…” Reivan repeated, savoring the sound of her name. “A name that carries its own elegance. Remember, Elsamina, in this place and in my presence, you are not just 'another' anything. You have value, and I intend to treat you as such.”

‘I hope she doesn’t think I’m laying it on too thick…’

Greyviel aside, Reivan really wanted to recruit Elsamina. And if possible, he’d love it if she joined his side willingly, without the need for external implements.

Forced by circumstances she couldn’t have possibly stopped, she got sold off to the scummiest piece of scum to ever scum the face of the earth. And then she’d suffered all her life because of it.

It was a story that was oh-so-familiar to Reivan.

After all, once upon a time, a rat Archon that shouldn’t even be on Earth suddenly popped up, forcing him to put his life on the line to save his beloved little sister. From then on, he’d had to endure unbearable pain while watching the people he cared for look at him in despair.

And as they bore witness to his struggles, they, in turn, suffered in their own ways.

It was only with Zell’s help in reincarnating him as the second prince of Aizen, did Reivan finally get a glimpse of hope and the opportunity for happiness.

Despite some differences in their stories, Reivan saw a reflection of his own past when he looked at her, a mirror of the true fickleness of fate and misfortune. In her, he had found a kindred spirit of sorts.

‘Now, it’s my turn.’

He had been helped once. And now, it would be his turn to help someone out of a similar predicament.

Reivan's desire to recruit Elsamina burned even stronger. He yearned not only to offer her a chance for redemption and freedom but also to witness her reclaim her agency and find solace in a future of her own choosing.

In a sense, Reivan wanted to give the woman in front of him a second life — one that would be the opposite of the first.

That said, Reivan knew that forcing her hand would only perpetuate the cycle of control and manipulation that had plagued her life. Instead, he hoped that by extending his hand in genuine camaraderie and understanding, Elsamina would willingly join his cause.

‘But then again, who would trust a stranger they’d just met? Plus, I don’t really look trustworthy right now…’

If someone were to ask Reivan, someone wearing a black mask to cover the lower half of their face was incredibly suspicious.

‘Fuck. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn it…’

Reivan inwardly started sweating bullets while cursing himself for thinking that black face masks were cool.

##########

Elsamina couldn't help but feel a sense of disorientation. The masked boy's genuine politeness and sincerity were unfamiliar and almost alien to her.

It wasn’t just his words either.

She had grown accustomed to encountering people who spoke politely but held contempt or judgment in their eyes, further reinforcing her self-perception as nothing more than an object to be used and discarded.

But with Ken, it was different. His words carried a sincerity that resonated deep within her, leaving no room for hidden motives or underlying disdain. There was an authenticity in his demeanor that began to chip away at the walls she had built around herself.

‘It’s like… It’s like he knows.’

If Elsamina had to name the feeling, she would say that it was empathy — something she was accustomed to feeling towards her comrades at the brothel, but also something she wasn’t used to receiving.

‘But that doesn’t make any sense.’

From her observations, Elsamina had certain… theories about the youth’s true identity. But even if those theories ended up being wrong, she had trouble fathoming how such a young man came to represent an organization unless he was the son of someone important in said organization.

Especially if the organization could hire numerous people capable of advanced magic power application and Qi manipulation. Climbing the ranks of that sort of group definitely wouldn’t be easy.

And for a child? Impossible.

So assuming that he was the son of someone important in the group, how could he possibly empathize with her? A life of luxury must have been the minimum of what he'd experienced in the few years he'd been alive.

Unfortunately, Elsamina wasn’t creative enough to think of a viable explanation for the feeling she felt.

The sound of something heavy falling to the floor woke her up from her reverie. Elsamina glanced behind her to see that Desmor had fallen to the ground, his back slumped against the back of the room’s wall.

“Get up, fool!” Elvar hissed at his brother, beads of sweat flowing down the sides of his face. “How can you not even stand for ten minutes?”

“B-but, brother… my knees hurt…” Desmor protested but still attempted to stand up.

“There’s no need to force him, Mr. Elvar,” Ken assured. “If your brother’s… healthiness makes it hard for him to stand for long periods of time, then it’s better to just let him sit on the floor like that. Though he’ll have to put up with all the blood and whatnot.”

The mysterious youth’s words made Elsamina glance around at the carnage and destruction in the room. None of the expensive bottles of wine survived, and almost all the shelves were wrecked since Greyviel kept using them as shields or projectiles.

As for the carpet, the blood made it hard to tell which parts were red from the start. And the chandeliers had all but shattered under the pressure of the attacks that had flown across the room.

Looking at all the corpses sent a shiver down Elsamina’s spine. It wasn’t her first time seeing a dead body, but the thought that she could have easily been one of these lifeless carcasses made her heartbeat quicken.

“Th-thank you for your consideration, Mr. Ken.” Elvar bent his waist and bowed respectfully, a strained smile on his face. “Desmor, quickly. Thank the kind gentlemen.”

Looking utterly confused about why he had to do such a thing, Desmor hesitantly spoke. “Uh, thanks…?”

“It’s no problem.” Ken dismissed with a wave. “Oh, and the two of you don’t need to introduce yourselves since I know you already. And if my original plan is to be followed, I won’t be knowing you for very long.”

Elvar gulped. “W-what…”

“Mr. Elvar…” The mysterious youth cut the nervous man off. “I’m not like the silver whatever that you planned to cut a deal with. Using you is convenient, but your services aren’t essential. So you’re not as important anymore. As you can see, we are more than capable of smuggling imperial tech and Aizenian tech even without your help.”

“B-but…!”

“At the moment, Mr. Elvar, you and your brother are just civilians — civilians that just so happen to know what has transpired in this room full of dead bodies.”

The normally scowling man’s face twisted in anguish as his fists clenched. Finally, his body relaxed and a sigh escaped his lips. “What do you want?”

The mask Ken wore hid it, but Elsamina could vaguely feel that the youth was smiling.

“It’s not a question of what I want, Mr. Elvar. But a question of what you can offer.”

Elvar bit his lips for a moment before saying. “Everything. Everything I’ve built up here in Worgon these past few years. Just let me and my brother go.”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Elvar, that is not enough.”

Following the youth’s signal, one of the men equipped with imperial sorciron cloaks pulled out a gun and shot Elvar in the shoulder.

“AHHH!” Desmor yelled amidst Elvar’s pained groans. “Are you okay!?”

“You nitwit, do I look okay?”

The masked youth’s blue eyes observed the two for a few moments before he stood up and pulled out a gun too.

Ken walked up and pointed the end of the barrel at the man’s face. “Mr. Elvar, I’m a very busy person. It would be in your best interest to convince me of your usefulness a little faster.”

“What do you want!?” Elvar screamed hysterically. “Do you want everything I have at Arkhan as well!? Fine! Just take it!”

“Unfortunately, that’s not the answer I was looking for.” The youth shook his head. “You may be unaware, but your company has a few people from our side. A single word from me is enough and they’ll swarm in like locusts, devouring everything you own. So you see, Mr. Elvar, I don’t need your consent to get everything you have. The moment you stepped down here, all of it became mine. And so, I ask you again…”

Bang!

Elsamina winced at the noise, her ears still ringing. A second later, anguished screams echoed throughout the room.

Elvar writhed in pain while clutching his bloody thigh, his eyes staring at the apathetic youth in horror.

“What can you offer me, Mr. Elvar?”

Arc#3 Chapter 46: Hostile Takeover (5)

[Author's Note]

A bit of a long chapter, at around 4k words. I actually really like writing long chapters like this but I also really want to work on being able to write shorter, more compact ones too. It's complicated... Anyway, I hope you enjoy~!

##########

Elsamina’s instincts and her newfound drive to survive screamed at her to get as far away from her spot as she could, and as fast as she possibly could. With all the strength her legs could muster, she bolted to the right side of the room, where shelves of wine abounded.

“Protect the boss!”

She ignored Xanthus’ surprisingly worried voice and crouched low on the ground, watching the events unfold. Her years in the underside of Arkhan’s society had honed her ability to remain composed in such situations.

That’s why even though she hid to the sides, she was careful to keep herself visible. If the assailants were particularly twitchy, and suddenly found her skulking around in their blindspot, she could get attacked out of reflex.

But if she was always in everyone’s line of sight, they would immediately know that she wasn’t a threat and ignore her.

Of course, this tactic didn’t always work, but Elsamina wasn’t exactly drowning in choices at the moment.

As expected, when two hooded men wearing black masks that covered the lower half of their faces walked into the room, their eyes momentarily scrutinized her before ignoring her completely, focusing on the biggest threats, which were all coincidentally gathered in the middle of the room.

Without even averting their gazes from Valmir and the others, the two intruders mowed down the closest guards with the ease of cutting butter with a heated blade.

“Who dares!?” Valmir visibly fumed at the assailants, no doubt upset that their deal might fall through.

Not bothering to answer the boss's question, the intruders threw what looked to be thumb-sized metallic balls to the floor with a casual flick of their wrists. The moment the little balls collided with the floor with a thunk, they started glowing with blue light and vibrating rapidly, to the extent that even the air shook.

Elsamina didn't know what those were, but she didn't miss how Ballor, Valmir, and the elderly Greyvial all had blanched faces after looking at the things.

"Fuck!" Ballor cursed at the top of his lungs while drawing his wand and firing off a spell. A lump of green magic power erupted from the tip, becoming a streak of light that aimed for an intruder’s chest.

However, the intruder didn’t react at all, perhaps finding the spell too fast for his eyes to follow.

An arrogant smirk bloomed on Ballor’s face, seemingly confident of his victory. But in the next moment, his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when he saw his spell bounce off the intruder’s thick black cloak.

“Sorciron cloaks! Fuck!” Ballor exclaimed, immediately turning around to flee toward the safety — which in this case, meant anywhere that placed Xanthus and the other fodder in between the intruders and him.

The other intruder finally made his move at this time, his bloodstained blade revealed itself from behind the cloak, becoming ablaze with beautiful blue flames. As the blood evaporated, the trespasser's sword slashed upward, launching a blade of sharpened magic power aimed at Ballor’s back.

“Goddammit!” Ballor swiveled around and took out a small glass orb the size of a child's fist. The sphere easily shattered from his tightening grip, causing an explosion of blinding light to fill the room.

“Ah!” Elsamina screwed her eyes shut because of the searing pain attacking her retinas. It took a few rubs for her vision to return, but the scene in front of her was vastly different.

Ballor was standing right next to the boss and the other two VIPs at the back of the room. Although a light wound overall, there was a shallow gash on his chest, and his designer clothes were ruined.

Xanthus had charged forward at some point and was now exchanging sword strikes with the first intruder. Their weapons were like a blur to Elsamina, and she was once again reminded how Xanthus was praised as the sharpest blade in the underworld of Arkhan.

It seemed like she wasn't the only one who couldn't track their movements either, since most of the remaining guards in the room were staring at the fight with equal parts awe and fear, not daring to insert themselves into such a high-level confrontation.

“H-hey, Xanthus…” Ballor’s breathing turned rough as he procured a vial of purple liquid and poured it all over his wound. The wound sizzled and smoked, causing him to wince in pain. That, however, did not stop him from yelling at his colleague. “Stop fooling around and kill that motherfucker! What’s taking you so long!?”

Xanthus backed off from the engagement, a small line of blood traced on his right cheek. “It’s not as easy as you make it sound… and I have to keep an eye on the other one too.”

Ballor nervously gulped down a mouthful of saliva, turning toward the old merchant in the room. “Greyviel you withered piece of shit! What’re you just staring at!? You were really threatening earlier, where’s all your toughness now, huh!?”

“Enough, Ballor.” Valir wiped off the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead. While throwing a cold glance at the VIPs scurrying to the back, a jewel-encrusted wand materialized in his hand, which he then flourished to form a golden barrier to protect himself.

Elsamina knew the meaning of the boss's actions. Now that their situations were so dire, he had to prioritize his life over some deal, so he had no leeway to spend effort in securing the VIPs. Elvar and his ball of lard would be left to fend for themselves.

“Now’s not the time for squabbling.” The Boss growled. “It’s obvious they aren’t your everyday thugs, so get your shit together, fool. They even prepared mana jammers for us, so we'll be losing the use of sorcery very soon.”

In response, Ballor scoffed but didn’t make more of a fuss.

Greyviel also stayed silent, taking out a long wooden wand from his cloak. With a sigh, he complained. “To think I became a merchant exactly because I wanted to avoid fighting on the front lines like this. And here I am, drawing my wand yet again…”

Elsamina, knowing that the climax of the battle would be arriving soon, shrunk into herself further. She resisted the urge to hide behind a shelf since her suspicious movements might be met by a blade of magic power. Anxiety gradually filled her mind and body as she looked toward the two intruders, who had been strangely quiet.

‘What are they doing…?’

While the first intruder fought with Xanthus, the other one had just stood to the side and watched, cutting down the occasional courageous guard. And now, they were both idling by the doorway, letting Ballor and the others regroup and prepare themselves.

She didn’t know who these intruders were, but if they would rid the world of someone like Ballor, then Elsamina wished for their victory. The only problem was that she didn’t know if these men would spare her after the battle. At this point in her life, she no longer cared if they kept her around to toy with her body, but what if they just outright killed her to get rid of all witnesses?

As she weighed her options, Elsamina noticed that a strange silence had filled the air — or rather, the previously noisy and chaotic atmosphere had seemingly died down.

“W-what…” Ballor’s jaw almost dropped as he gazed at the doorway in horror.

Two more intruders walked into the room. Their clothes and equipment were an exact replica of the previous two, except theirs was considerably more bloody, leaving a trail of crimson footsteps in their wake.

One of the newcomers tossed something at the group, making Ballor flinch and prepare a spell.

But the man soon realized that he didn’t have to.

Alwick the butler’s severed head sailed across the air before hitting the barrier that protected the three sorcerers of the Silver Cross. It bounced off with a comical plonk, before landing on the red carpet and staining it with a deeper crimson.

Elsamina’s eyes were glued to the face of a man she’d just seen breathing and talking just a few minutes ago. The head’s dead gaze seemed to stare off into eternity, sending a shiver down her spine — as if foretelling that this would be her fate as well.

‘They were buying time…’

The first two intruders weren’t just idling around. Elsamina realized that they had been waiting for their comrades to annihilate all of the forces in the lobby. And now, their full force would focus on getting rid of the higher-ups.

‘This looks really bad…’ Elsamina couldn’t help but break into a grin as she sent a glance toward the man she hated most in the world, almost forgetting about the danger to her own life. ‘...for them.’

##########

Without a moment's hesitation, one of the fresh intruders swiftly aimed a menacing firearm directly at Ballor.

“A gun…?” Ballor sneered, procuring another glass orb from thin air. “You think that toy can do anything to this shield, you fuc—

Without warning, Ballor’s body jerked backward as his shoulder exploded.

“AHHHH! FUCK!” he screeched, tears, snot, and drool flowing down his face as he cradled his injury.

“Spellbane bullets!” Greyviel hissed, immediately pointing his wand at a nearby shelf. With a flourish, the entire thing flew across the air and landed in front of the aged sorcerer. Despite the brief respite it provided against bullets, he knew it would do little against the constant barrage of mana blades. “This is starting to look very unprofitable, Valmir! Were you not a former battlemage!? Do something!”

“It seems this is my karma…” The boss sighed as he took out a glass vial and sprinkled the contents on the writhing Ballor’s injuries. “You lot. Shields mean nothing with their spellbane bullets. And we can’t get through their cloaks with quickly casted spells. Using shelves won’t last long either, and it's not as if we have much time until their jammers completely destabilize the mana in this room.”

“Do you have something in mind, Boss?” Xanthus asked while warily eyeing the intruders.

Valmir and Ballor looked seemingly comforted by the fact that he was a warrior that didn’t depend on sorcery, so the spellbane bullets were just normal bullets to him — and they knew that he could deflect normal bullets easily. What made them anxious was the fact that the other intruders kept harassing them with a constant barrage of mana blades.

Two vials appeared in the Boss’ hand. He popped the corks and drank the contents in one fluid motion. Then, behind him appeared a large panther with red fur and bright yellow eyes. The temperature in the room rapidly increased as his magic power spread outwards.

“Buy me some time.”

##########

“Valter, what is that guy planning?” Reivan asked as he looked at a holographic screen created by his holostone, watching the events in the underground room unfold.

It was a good thing he had asked one of the knights to bring a device similar to a police officer’s body cam. This way, he wasn’t bored.

‘That’s the woman I was told of…’

His eyes momentarily focused on the beautiful woman cowering in the corner, before returning to the battle. He trusted that his instructions would be followed and the knights would be careful not to hurt her.

Valter hummed in thought for a moment. “Although the imperial Sorciron cloaks can deflect some small spells, they will still be penetrated by the high-powered ones. It’s a relatively common tactic in Republic versus Empire skirmishes to charge up a big spell and use it to take out the cloak-wearer. Those are quite rare after all, so wearing one was a symbol of power and authority.”

“In other words, they can take out a leader.”

“Precisely.”

Reivan rubbed his chin. “So that means their boss is a really skilled sorcerer, right?”

“Indeed. Our intelligence has revealed that he was previously an Arkhanian Battlemage, so he is likely capable of using mana augmentation to bolster his physical capabilities — on top of having a soul-bonded spirit beast like me. The beast shares its fire attribute with Valmir, so he is personally capable of elementalism as well. Apparently, he deserted the battlefield after a particularly bad rout against the empire, thereby becoming a wanted man.”

“Will that be a problem for our knights?”

“Not at all. It has been a while since we’ve warred against the republic, but our knights are still trained on how to deal with battlemages. Besides, nobody who deserts the battlefield could be formidable enough to be a threat. And that’s not counting the possibility that an injury he previously received has completely crippled his ability to use mana augmentation, pretty much restricting him to sorcery and elementalism — both of which will be made obsolete once the spell jammers fully take effect.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want any of our knights getting injured…” Reivan sighed before pointing at another part of the screen. “Then what about those other guys? They’re sorcerers too.”

Valter seemed to take a moment to recall some details. “We don’t know a great deal about Greyviel except that he is a sorcerer. But as for Ballor, he failed the Spirit Tower’s selection trial, pretty much cutting off any chances he had at becoming a Battlemage. Despite that, his sorcery skills are above average.”

“I see.” Reivan nodded in satisfaction before redirecting his attention back to the holostone’s display screen. “Well, they’re all rats in a barrel now. Let’s just hope they don’t make enough of a fuss to notify the people above ground.”

“There are no problems as we’ve already evacuated everybody above the fight. The peons in the… uh, the gang are unintentionally intimidating everyone off the premises.”

Reivan chuckled. Having competent people around you really did make things easier.

‘That said, I really should start thinking of a name for this little organization of mine…’

##########

It did not take long for Elsamina’s smile to vanish.

“Shit, shit, shit…!”

Having been brought up as a lady in a respectable household, Elsamina inherently avoided cursing — or rather, she couldn’t remember the last time she did.

But as she continued to cower in the corner, praying that she didn’t get caught up in the ferocious fighting between Valmir’s spirit bond and two of the intruders, Elsamina found that the curses flowed freely from her mouth.

Bullets piercing the air faster than her eyes could see, blades of mana that severed everything they passed through, the differently colored spell lights being flung here and there, bright tongues of flame that carbonized almost everything it touched, and various other things that were being deflected…

If any of them hit her, she was absolutely certain that her pitiful little life would end.

That was why she couldn’t help but stare resentfully at the enigmatic leader of the Silver Cross which she had seen for the first time today, wishing that she had someone like Xanthus protecting her from bullets and other supernatural attacks — or someone like Greyviel constantly maintaining a protective barrier to shield against anything harmful.

But she was just a helpless reed caught in multiple storms, hoping that she wouldn’t get torn apart. Still, she found solace in the fact that she didn’t have a slave collar on. It was strangely comforting to know that she would leave the mortal plane as a free woman.

‘Those poor men…’

The ordinary guards that had filled the room were all but wiped out by now, caught in between the intruders’ attacks. Being slaves, they had no other option but to charge into battle when ordered, no matter how useless they would ultimately be.

“Boss, is it ready yet…!?” Ballor asked with urgency, firing spells at the intruders to force them to cover themselves with the cloaks. “My mana and potion reserves are drying up here! And we've run out of cannon fodder too!”

“Shut up and let me focus, you halfwit!” Valmir yelled, his eyes screwed shut in focus. But then his eyes opened, a big grin on his face. “Move out of the way!”

Xanthus stepped aside, still seemingly alert to any projectiles that would fly toward the boss.

The crimson panther belched out a flurry of searing flames, forcing the two intruders retreat momentarily. It's feral eyes still locked at the intruders, it leaped back and joined its master’s side.

“Hah!” With a below, Valmir’s wand practically exploded with light, as the temperature in the room rose to even more dangerous levels, causing the various glass bottles in the room to melt rapidly. A deafening roar reverberated in the air as a beam of fiery energy surged out from the tip of the boss’ wand, heading straight for the intruders.

Elsamina marveled at the pure destructive power she felt from the spell, inwardly lamenting the fate of the intrudes she’d been rooting for.

But in the next instant, the room returned to normal as if the spell had never been cast.

The beam had disappeared, the bottles stopped melting, and the temperature returned to normal.

Thunk.

Amidst the deafening silence, a faint clatter echoed through the air, resonating like the roar of a mighty lion. All eyes turned towards the center of the room, where a small stone, no larger than a pinky finger, lay innocently on the floor.

“A runestone…!?” Ballor exclaimed incredulously. “Spell Jammers, Spellbane bullets, Sorciron cloaks, and now runestones!? Are you from the empire or the kingdom!? Just choose one, goddammit!”

With the object of her hatred’s cry, Elsamina finally realized what the item was.

Runestone.

A consumable item that allowed anyone — even the most ordinary of men — to use the technique stored within. Crafted through a meticulous process involving the rare and precious manatite crystal, as well as the expertise of highly skilled manipulators of mana, these stones were highly sought after. They were so valuable, that Elsamina's father attracted the gaze of a demon like Ballor just by obtaining one.

While predominantly utilized by Aizen's knights to conserve energy during arduous battles, their existence sparked Arkhan’s creation of the Spell Ball. These cheaper alternatives, albeit less potent and exclusive to sorcerers, could be mass-produced with comparatively attainable materials.

Elsamina knew for a fact that Ballor’s cowardice compelled him to keep hundreds, if not thousands of spell balls inside his spacial ring at all times.

‘A spell ball probably can’t contain something that could penetrate those cloaks though.’ she surmised from Ballor’s lack of using them.

‘And he probably doesn’t want to waste the money spent buying them by throwing them at someone they’re ineffective against, so he’s pushing more of the work on the others.’

Even she felt amazed at how easily she could read the scumbag’s actions and thoughts. Elsamina wanted nothing more than to lose this ability forever though.

“Such a thing…” Valmir fell to his knees, his breathing ragged from the use of too much magic power. With his head hung low and his arms trembling from exhaustion, a bright blue potion appeared in his hand. “Again. Let me try again. They can’t possibly have more than one of those Runestones. Buy me some time again, and I—”

Before the last word could escape his lips, Xanthus' sword glided through the air with unwavering precision, its trajectory aimed directly at the back of Valmir’s exposed neck. The blade's relentless advance had practically sealed the boss's fate, poised to sever the final connection between life and existence.

An urgent roar shattered the silence, as the white panther moved to intervene.

Despite the spirit beast's desperate attempt to protect its master, its swift and agile form was rendered sluggish by the shock of an unexpected betrayal.

It was already too late.

‘What just happened…’

Elsamina sat in stunned silence, watching the head roll around on the crimson-carpeted floor before coincidentally stopping right next to Alwick’s head.

As for the spirit beast, its master’s death had all but destroyed the contract that tethered it to this world, so it vanished within the blink of an eye.

“What…” Ballor stared at the ball of flesh on the floor with wide eyes and a slack jaw. “What the fuck did you just do…”

Xanthus said nothing as he inspected his blade. The cut had been so perfect, no blood or flesh could cling to the edge.

“Xanthus! I asked you a question! Answer me…!”

Turning around to face the bellowing man, Xanthus said matter-of-factly. “Valmir was a capable warrior who’d also unlocked his Qi, so to prevent him from using advanced magic power application as well, it was better to kill him right after he exerted himself in casting a big spell.”

“That’s not what I meant, you bastard!” Ballor brandished his wand and pointed it at the man who’d been guarding him all this time.

Indifferent to the actions of his former colleague, Xanthus continued. “The initial plan was to lead his spirit bond away, then coax him into entering a melee battle before I attacked him from behind… but it seems the injuries of the past cannot be healed easily. He’s grown weak, unable to use the strength of his prime. And so, we adjusted the plan a little, since he just wouldn't leave the backlines.”

“And like I said, that’s not what I’m asking, you piece of shit!”

The warrior raised a brow and sighed. “Is it really that strange, Ballor? I’m backstabbing you. I’m backstabbing all of you. As someone who’s done this more times than he can count, you should already know from my actions, no?”

“You…!”

Watching from the sidelines, Greyviel shook his head and stowed away his wand. “Five people with their Qi unleashed and able to use mana augmentation… I suppose it’s all over for this old one. Do with me as you wish, but don’t think you’ll get the wealth I’ve been hoarding.”

Xanthus threw a glance at the old merchant before saying. “It’s not necessarily over for you. If you wish, you can serve alongside me in the new organization that will be formed after this.”

“Oh, well, that sounds wonderful. I’m glad this all works out for me in the end.”

“You shitty old man!” Ballor pointed his wand at Greyviel next. “You’re going to betray the Silver Cross too!?”

"Betrayal is such a strong word, Ballor. A word that, in this humble one's honest opinion, doesn't quite fit the situation," Greyviel chuckled, his expression calm and serene. "From the very beginning, I aligned myself with this motley crew for the sake of profit. Now that the prospect of profit has dwindled, it only makes sense for me to gravitate toward those who can offer it. It's as simple as that, nothing more."

“Then die!”

A brilliant emerald glow burst forth from Ballor's wand, aimed directly at the chest of the elderly merchant. Yet, to his surprise, the spell was met with a shimmering barrier that had been erected earlier. Cracks slowly spread out before the barrier shattered completely.

But it had done its job well.

"Hoho. Truly young and foolish." Greyviel sneered, his weathered features contorted with malicious delight. Drawing his own wand, he unleashed a surge of energy that struck Ballor with unerring accuracy, propelling him through the air until he collided with one of the few fragile wine shelves that managed to survive. Shards of glass and splinters of wood rained down in the aftermath.

'Is he dead...?' Elsamina prayed.

However, despite his lack of consciousness, the bastard's chest still rose and fell.

"How refreshing," The aged merchant chuckled, stroking his flowing white beard. With a gleam in his eyes, he turned his attention back to Xanthus. "So, based on your words, it appears you won't be assuming leadership of this new organization. May I then anticipate the pleasure of meeting our new leader soon? I do believe paying my respects is in order."

In response, a boy’s youthful voice — utterly out of place in this den of evil and betrayal — echoed out from the doorway.

"Your assumptions are correct, old sir."

Elsamina's gaze followed the source of the gaze to see a pair of bright blue eyes peeking out of a black mask, similar to what the other intruders were wearing.

"Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Ken, and I represent the force responsible for making a mess of things here. Oh, and I am also your Boss now. Let’s make a lot of money together, okay?"

Arc#3 Chapter 45: Hostile Takeover (4)

Elsamina and her party of lowlives stood before a set of ornate double doors, framed by intricately carved statues of naked women. There were also two large men with rippling muscles threatening to burst out of their clothes guarding either side.

Sensing the weight of the impending encounter, Greyviel pivoted to face them, his gaze piercing through each member of the group as he issued a final warning.

“The boss is through this door, talking business with our esteemed guests.” The old merchant looked them in the eyes one by one. “I assume I don’t have to tell you that it is imperative that they think favorably of our little band of misfits?”

“We know, old timer.” Ballor dismissed him with a wave before gesturing for Greyviel to proceed. “Just lead us inside already, I’m sure they’ll like what I have to offer.”

Elsamina’s face darkened with resolve as she absorbed the implications of his words. Failure was not an option for Elsamina. The lives of the young women she regarded as sisters hung in the balance, their already dire circumstances poised to worsen if she faltered.

And beyond that, she understood all too well that her own fate would be far from favorable if she couldn't achieve success.

‘If I’ll become someone’s plaything, I may as well be their favorite one…’

She reasoned that just as children cared for their cherished toys, her prospective master would treat her well if she managed to win his favor.

This was what Elsamina wanted to believe, seeking solace in the idea. Otherwise, with the knowledge of her brother’s demise, she would truly go mad if she had nothing to cling to.

"Hm, it seems you are all prepared," Greyviel acknowledged, his gaze scanning the serious expressions on the faces behind him. Satisfied, he turned toward the door and rapped on it thrice. "It is I. Ballor and Xanthus have arrived to pay their respects."

“You may enter.”

In response to the deep voice which radiated calmness, the two men flanking the entrance pushed the doors open.

Much like the reception room, the inner room was meticulously decorated to radiate opulence. Shelves lined the walls, adorned with costly bottles of wine aged for decades, even centuries. Positioned in between were armed guards, their presence imparting an air of intimidation.

And in the middle of the room, sitting on three separate couches positioned like a triangle around a circular table, were three very important men.

“Boss Valmir.” Ballor bowed at a ninety-degree angle, being so surprisingly respectful that Elsamina thought he’d been switched with a different person. “It’s been a while.”

Valmir, a middle-aged gentleman with neatly styled gray hair and a serene smile, acknowledged the greeting with a nod. “Indeed it has, Ballor. I’m happy to see that you are still well. Oh, and one of our guests has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

Sporting a smirk, Ballor confidently advanced to introduce himself to the two VIPs present in the room. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Ballor, and I lead the Silver Cross’ Drug and Human Trafficking division.”

In response, a man whose countenance seemed eternally etched with a scowl stood up and approached him. The sullen man swept back his shoulder-length black hair before holding out a hand. “My name is Elvar, and I am the chairman of The Grace Company.”

Ballor reached out and shook Elvar’s hand firmly. “Naturally, I am familiar with your esteemed reputation, sir. In fact, I am a frequent customer… Why, my current robe is actually a custom piece from your brand! If I remember correctly... I ordered about a year ago, give or take.”

The sullen man’s face slightly brightened at that. “The one you have on certainly looks nice, but I believe we’ve advanced our techniques tremendously this past year. Now that we’ll be working even closer together, there’ll be plenty of opportunities for me to provide something more satisfying.”

“I’d love that! Oh, and speaking of satisfaction…”

Ballor’s predatory gaze drifted over to the other VIP — a man so obese that one had to wonder how he made it through the narrow tunnel to arrive here.

‘Did someone teleport him here…? That’s the only way it’d make sense…’

“Ah…” Ballor’s smile widened when his eyes fixated on the rotund figure. I assume that this gentleman is…”

Any positivity on Elvar’s face disappeared when he followed Ballor’s gaze. “He’s my younger brother, Desmor.”

Even though he was the subject of conversation between two men who weren’t particularly lowering their voices, Desmor didn’t appear to care.

“Haah… haaah…” Rough breaths were exhaled out of Desmor’s mouth as he lustfully eyed Elsamina up and down. The portly man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his rolls of flesh quivering with every movement. With a strained smile, he waved at Elsamina. “H-h-hello… M-my name is Desmor.”

“Elsamina, my dear.” Ballor turned back, staring meaningfully into her eyes while maintaining the smile on his face. “Your future master just greeted you. Go and say hello.”
‘So this man really is to become my master…’

Elsamina felt a mixture of repulsion and trepidation as she processed the reality before her. This man, Desmor, was to become her master. While she had encountered men of varying body types in her line of work, Desmor's sheer size seemed overwhelming. She couldn't help but envision the potential dangers of being in his presence, fearing that she might be crushed under his weight with a simple roll in his sleep.

‘Calm down, Elsamina… Just think about it, it doesn’t really matter what type of man you got as a master. You just have to endure it for a few seconds at most, and they’d tire themself out.’

Taking a deep breath, Elsamina tried to maintain composure and summoned a flirtatious smile.

‘Ugh. I’m not used to this…’

It was an unfamiliar role for her, as she had relied on her natural beauty and allure in the past, never actively engaging in seduction or feigning interest.

But it seemed that the lessons from her seniors at the brothel worked, since her target’s lust only intensified.

“I love her! I want her! I need her!!” The fat man yelled at the top of his lungs. He leaned forward and seemed about to topple off the sofa, but a guard managed to grab his shoulders from behind.

“I’m glad you like her.” Ballor rubbed his hands together like the sleazebag that he was, sending a probing glance at the sullen man. “But Elsamina here is very skilled in serving men, so perhaps your elder brother would like to have a taste as well…”

“NO!” Desmor wailed, spittle flying from his mouth. “SHE’S MINE! ONLY MINE! I’M NOT SHARING WITH ANYONE!”

Elsamina couldn’t help but feel conflicted after witnessing the spectacle.

‘At least I won’t have to worry about being passed around…’

Elvar’s frown deepened as he spat. “Enough! You’re an embarrassment. And you know I have no interest in women as old as her, so shut up!”

Desmor looked at his brother with tears falling from the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, elder brother! You really treat me well!”

“Tch. Of course, I do.” The scowling man scoffed before he turned to address the others in the room. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Even if he’s like that, I can’t seem to be rid of him. Loathe as I am to admit it, he’s family.”

Valmir smiled, nodding in understanding while throwing a pointed glance at Ballor. "It's no trouble at all."

"I feel the same," Ballor chimed in, placing a hand on his chest with a disingenuous smile. "Personally, my own family relationships were far from ideal, but I admire the bond you share with Mr. Desmor. I wish I was even half as close to my brothers and sisters."

"I appreciate your understanding.”
‘These guys are really cranking up the bootlicking…’

Elsamina pondered why the owner of an Arkhanian clothing line was so important to an organization that made its money from dishonest means. The pieces of the puzzle started to come together, raising more questions than answers.

‘Is it connections…?’

But they were in a foreign country that had closed its borders for a very long time. Just how great would an Arkhanian company’s connections in Aizen be?

Besides, at a cursory glance, the clothes worn by ordinary Aizenian citizens could be considered quite expensive back at Arkhan. Though she hadn’t spent much time in the country, she’d made careful use of the journey to the pub, observing everything around her.

As such, the “luxury” goods provided by Elvar wouldn’t have much appeal to Aizen companies, aside from the novelty of being foreign.

Regardless of her thoughts, she was just a commodity to the people around her, so they obviously wouldn’t stop their conversation to explain anything to her.

“Mr. Elvar,” Ballor smiled as he shifted closer to the scowling man. “I seem to have heard your brother say something about Elsamina’s age… Well, if you would allow me, I believe I have plenty of girls that, although of lower quality than Elsamina, are quite good in their own right. And they’re all well-trained too!”

Elvar raised a brow and crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”

“Heh. I’m glad that I have your attention…” Ballor grinned. “I feel guilty about only being able to offer a gift to Mr. Desmor. Let me make it up to you by showing you a catalog of our finest girls. They’re young, at about twent—”

“Younger.”

“Oh…” Ballor’s eyes widened before he nodded in understanding. “I see. Then perhaps someone in their late tee—”

“Younger.”

A moment of silence followed Elvar’s words before Ballor grinned like a demon. “I apologize for being slow of wit. I believe I have just the type of girls that you would like. In fact, Elsamina is very well acquainted with them, and she will be delighted to know that their reunion will not be far off.”

“Elder brother!” Desmor yelled energetically. “Buy that one!”

“Shut up.” Elvar spat, before turning to face Ballor with a wicked smile. “And I’ll be happy to take you up on that offer.”

“Excellent!” Ballor exclaimed, likely happy at the prospect of sucking up directly to the elder brother, instead of through the younger one.

“D-d-did you hear that, Elsamina?” Desmor smiled goofily as he looked at her. “You’ll be with your friends again! Aren’t you happy?”

“I’m very happy…” Elsamina strained to maintain the smile on her face. “Thank you, master.”

“No problem. Y-y-you can just thank me later…”

Clap!

“Now then,” Valmir spoke, putting his hands down. “I’m glad that Mr. Desmor is very happy about his new slave, and that Mr. Elvar will be getting one too… But we came here for business. And I hope that words of thanks are not all we can get from you, Mr. Elvar.”

“Of course, not.” Elvar sat back down on his sofa. He then glanced back at Ballor’s group, who were all still standing between the table and the door. “Will you not be sitting down with us?”

“We dare not assume that our ranks are similar to yours, Mr. Elvar.” Ballor smiled ingratiatingly. “We’ll be fine just standing here, don’t worr—”

BANG!

Without warning, a deafening explosion shook the air as the only door to the room burst into pieces.

#####


‘Wow, it smells like ass in here. Not that I’ve actually smelled someone’s ass before…’

Reivan’s face twisted into a grimace as he neared the entrance of a certain pub. The stench was much more effective on him too, since his olfactory senses were so developed. He wasn’t even there yet, and he already felt like his nose had literal crap injected into it.

And to top it all off, he even had a black mask covering the lower half of his face! Reivan had truly never smelled something so foul — except the horrible smell from that rat archon that ruined his life.

“Ugh…!” Unable to take it anymore, Reivan took out a handkerchief and stuffed it up his nose. Even though it was a bit unbecoming for a prince, he hoped to be forgiven since he was in disguise anyway — nobody would mistake him as the second prince since he currently had a head of black hair and bright blue eyes.

Valter, unaffected by the stink, spoke from within Reivan’s shadow. “It’s a type of poison, Your Highness. Its only effect is dulling your mind a little… similar to alcohol. Except it also acts as a way to discourage people from coming close to the shop.”

“That's very interesting, but really, kindly do something about it. Please.”

“Very well.”

A strong gust of wind burst out of the pub’s entrance, most likely carrying all the stench along with it.

Reivan smiled and took a deep breath, gaining an increased appreciation for the clean air that was readily available to him in the royal palace. With light steps, he ventured into the ruined pub that his knights had utterly ransacked.

“This place has seen better days, I hope.” Reivan surveyed the interior, taking note of the numerous overturned barrels of ale, a few shattered tables, and a fat man’s corpse in the corner of the room. Finished with his cursory observation, he procured a posh armchair from his spacial ring and sat down. “Valter, how are the other kids doing? Did anybody die yet?”

There were a few moments of silence following the prince’s question, but he knew the Valter was focusing so he waited patiently.

“No deaths,” Valter said. “A few injuries here and there, but nothing a few days of rest and some badges can’t fix. Most of the heavy lifting has been done by the knights leading them, so all they had to do is bully the other gangs with their guns.”

“I sure hope so! It took a whole lot of elbow grease to round up all the guns that were gathering dust in the armory! And I had to have them cleaned up too. In hindsight, that’s probably how Father found out about everything… It worked out really well though, so I won’t complain.”

“Yes, Your Highness. As I said, I was not the one who told him about it. I am innocent. His Majesty’s eyes are all-encompassing…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Reivan ignored the guardian knight’s excuses and looked at the setting sun in the darkening sky. “Anyway, I hope this doesn’t take long. There’s still a lot of work to do and I’d rather finish it all today.”

“I’m sure the knights down there will work hard.”

“Oh, I’m sure they will.”

After all, he’d chosen the ones with important appointments after the operation. Of course, the assault on the bosses of the organization would take much less work and time since the knights didn’t have to worry about holding back as much as the knights assigned to subdue the other gangs and organizations in the area. Reivan was actually giving them preferential treatment here.

At the same time, he hoped their motivation wouldn’t make them rush too much — haste makes waste after all.

‘Meh. They’ll be fine.’

Turning on his holostone to stave off the boredom of waiting, Reivan placed his trust in the four knights he sent down to the basement.

Arc#3 Chapter 44: Hostile Takeover (3)

The moment Xanthus opened the door to the pub, Elsamina and the others saw what seemed like any ordinary dilapidated pub that would make you wonder how it stayed afloat.

The wooden tables inside looked as if they’d already started rotting, and there were empty bottles of booze strewn all over the floor. Perhaps due to insufficient profits, there were no actual chairs, and any patrons gracing the place with their presence had to sit on dirty overturned barrels.

These were not the biggest problems though.

‘It reeks…!’

Elsamina’s usually stoic face wrinkled in disgust when her nose was assaulted by the foulest stench she had ever had the misfortune of smelling — and she’d smelled some truly foul things.

“What the fuck!?” Ballor’s face twisted into a grimace as he pushed Elsamina aside and got as far away from the pub as possible. He then started retching, unloading a bit of his breakfast on the street.

Unable to bear the stench either, Elsamina took out a handkerchief and was about to cover her nose with it, but it was wrenched away from her hands almost immediately.

“Why the hell does it smell like ass in here!” Ballor exclaimed before stuffing his nostrils with the handkerchief. “Not that I’ve smelled someone’s ass before!”

“Oh, customers?” A fat man with an apron as greasy as his face greeted them in broken Arkhanian from within the pub. The big smile on his face revealed an incomplete set of teeth and blackened gums. “Come in, come in! I don’t get a lot of business around here. Must be the shitty location. But I’m glad you’re here!”

“There’s a bigger problem here than the location, you fat fuck.”

“Ballor.” Xanthus looked back, his face emotionless. “Stop talking. We’re here for business.”

The bastard clicked his tongue but shut up all the same.

With their warrior leading the way, Ballor also entered with a deep grimace. Reluctantly, Elsamina moved to follow while doing her best to keep a straight face.

Seemingly unoffended by Ballor’s earlier remarks, the pub owner kept up a business smile as he asked, “What’re you looking to drink? If you want something to snack on, I’ll scrounge something up.”

“Maybe next time.” Xanthus calmly said he tapped a finger on the counter three times. “We’re looking for some kinberry wine. Word on the streets says that it’s a delicacy over at Pentagoria.”

“Oh? Well, you sure heard right!” The pub owner chuckled. “Brought it straight from my hometown! How much will you be taking with you?”

“Two barrels will do. And a bottle as well.”

Hearing those words, the smile on the pub owner’s face fell off. “I see. Come with me, then. I keep ‘em in the cellar.”

“Very well. Lead the way.”

With Xanthus taking the lead as usual, the three Arkhanians trailed the pub owner past the counter and into the kitchen, where the pub owner pushed aside some barrels and gestured at a small carpet laid out on the floor.

The pub owner rolled up the carpet to reveal a trap door. “The cellar’s here. It’s a bit dark though. Wish I could provide a lantern, but my pub’s not exactly rolling in business!”

“We can handle it from here.” Ballor shooed him off. “Shove off, you fat cunt.”

With a shrug, the pub owner acquiesced, leaving them be.

“Xanthus, you’re up.”

“I know.”

Naturally, Xanthus had to go first.

##########

Although the stairs leading down to the cellar creaked from the burden of their weight, the wooden structure managed to hold on until their feet were firmly set on the cold stone floor.

As for the darkness of the basement, it was a simple problem to solve with a sorcerer like Ballor in their party. A light flick of his wand was all he needed before every corner of the underground room was illuminated.

'It's about as dirty as I expected it to be.' Elsamina mused.

The sight that unfolded before their eyes was a myriad of dusty wooden shelves lined with rows upon rows of meticulously stacked wine barrels, a testament to the cellar's surprisingly well-stocked inventory. It would have all looked even more impressive if mice and cockroaches weren't scurrying around on the floor.

“Probably all drugged with a bit of glimmerweed extract.” Ballor lightly muttered as he eyed the barrels. He quickly lost interest though, flicking his wand, causing all of the pests around them to die instantly. “Now, where the hell is it…”

Elsamina wondered what the object of her hatred was looking for, but she didn’t have to be curious for long since it seemed like he’d found it already.

“Here it is.” Ballor drew his wand and pointed it at a particular part of the wall that was framed by two of the shelves.

‘A secret door…?’

To a normal person like Elsamina, nothing seemed out of the ordinary regarding the wall, aside from the dust and cobwebs dirtying it. But she knew that secret doors were used widely by Arkhan’s sorcerers to hide their labs and other important rooms.

The countless tiny runes engraved into Ballor’s wand glowed with green light before a select few shone even brighter. A moment later, the wall dissolved into a pile of dust on the stone floor, revealing a dark, stone-paved tunnel.

“Xanth—”

“I know.”

Walking with their usual line-up, the three made their way into the dark tunnel.

##########

After a few minutes of walking down the winding tunnel, they eventually made it to a dead end.

Naturally, this was not actually a dead end.

“Damn, I’m getting sick and tired of all these trap doors…” Ballor grumbled as he drew his wand once again, doing the same thing he’d done at the pub’s cellar to reveal an ornate door where a wall had been. With another flick of his wrist, the door opened on its own, revealing the opulent chamber inside.

Visible through the doorway were golden chandeliers encrusted with glowing orbs of magical light, a velvety red carpet covering the entire floor of the vast room, and numerous guards with swords strapped to their waists waiting by the walls.

‘It’s like the brothel’s reception area…’

That was Elsamina’s first impression of the room.

“Damn. They ripped off my brothel’s design…” Ballor cursed under his breath as he surveyed the surroundings. He roughly grabbed one of the decorative stone statues of a beautiful woman’s head. “Hey, I recognize this bitch! Haha!”

“Welcome, sirs.” A dashing young butler with neat and slicked-back auburn hair walked up to them. “This humble one’s name is Alwick, and I wil—”

“Fuck off, twat.” Ballor scoffed, shooing him away. “Bring out someone who’s actually important."

Alwick visibly bristled at the rudeness. In one fluid movement, a wand shot out from within his right sleeve and it was pointed at Ballor’s chest. “If you think I’m like all these other no-name guards, then you’ve got—”

"Enough, Alwick," a calm yet weathered voice interjected, breaking the tense atmosphere. "We have guests waiting in the back room, and I daresay it won't leave a favorable impression if they were to overhear your quarrel, now would it?"

The fury in the butler's eyes waned slightly upon hearing the chairman's words. "You are right, Chairman Greyviel."

Despite his compliance, Alwick couldn't resist casting one final piercing glare at Ballor, who responded with a contemptuous sneer. His wand zipped back up his sleeve and he put his arm down, preparing to back off and let the old merchant handle things.

But this was a big mistake.

Suddenly, Elsamina was forced to shield her eyes from a blinding surge of green light. When she dared to open them again, Alwick was hurtling through the air while Ballor stood with his wand poised in the direction the butler once occupied.

With a resounding crash, Alwick collided with a wall before slumping to the ground, his life or death unknown.

“Little bitch boy.” Ballor sniggered, stowing away his wand. “Let this be a hard lesson for you that nobody — and I mean nobody — messes with me, Ballor!”

Greyviel, having observed the events unfold, shook his head with a mix of annoyance and resignation. "You're as much of an insufferable prick as ever, Ballor. It's almost comforting to see that some things never change, even as everything else progresses. Now, Xanthus, on the otherhand, is a paragon we should all strive to emulate. Well met, Mr. Xanthus."

Xanthus nodded in greeting but said nothing else.

Not one to miss a veiled insult, Ballor redirected his mockery toward the elderly merchant. “And you’re still teetering on the brink of death, old man. I could smell the reek of death oozing off you while I was in those fucking tunnels.”

Greyviel's expression remained unchanged, his calm demeanor was unwavering despite Ballor's taunts. "Ah, the audacity of youth. You may have wit and power, but you lack the wisdom and grace that come with age."

A sly smile played at the corners of Ballor's lips. "Wisdom and grace? Hah! Old man, spare me your delusions. You're nothing more than a relic clinging to the remnants of your fading influence."

The tension in the room intensified as the two men exchanged cutting remarks, their words dripping with disdain. Elsamina watched in silence, a mixture of concern and fascination evident in her eyes.

‘Greyviel…’

As someone who was initially raised as the heir to a mid-sized company, Elsamina naturally knew who the man was.

There were many titans splitting the market for magitech appliances in Arkhan, and one of them was Greyviel Tech. While others competed over who could make the best, the most efficient, and the most luxurious magitech appliances in the market, Greyviel tech was an outlier that focused their attention on providing for the low and middle-class citizens.

The old man’s name was practically engraved as a brand on sixty percent of the magitech appliances in the republic. Though this had started to wane recently, due to the influx of products from Aizen and the rise of more competitors.

‘And he’s working with scum…’

Any respect Elsamina could have possibly had for such a great merchant was instantly lost once she realized that he likely participated in all sorts of illegal activities in cooperation with the organization Ballor belonged to.

Greyviel's eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of amusement dancing within them. "Perhaps you're right, Ballor. My time in this realm is indeed limited. But mark my words, even in my twilight years, I'll accomplish more than you ever could in your prime."

Ballor's smirk faltered for a brief moment before transforming into a mocking laugh. "We shall see, old man. We shall see."

“Is there anything left to see? The profits from your petty little drug and human trafficking schemes will never compare to the millions that my weapons manufacturing earns in a week or two.”

“You…!”

Ballor was about to draw his wand again when he found that his arm was firmly grasped by Xanthus.

“Enough.” The warrior gave the two sorcerers a cold glance. “The Boss is waiting.”

The words seemingly poured cold water on their boiling moods.

Ballor scoffed before shaking off Xanthus' hold and strutting towards the ornate doorway on the far side of the room. “We’ll settle this some other time, old bat.”

“Perhaps we will.” Greyviel stroked his flowing white beard before his gaze hovered over Elsamina. “And I suppose you’re that fool’s toy? The one he always seems to be so proud of.”

Elsamina stood rigid, feeling the weight of the wizened mage's emotionless gaze upon her. There was no trace of desire, anger, or even the faintest hint of interest in his eyes. It was as if he regarded her as nothing more than an inanimate object, a mere subject of inspection.

"Hm. Well, I must say, his descriptions fell short in capturing your true essence," Greyviel muttered to himself, turning his back to Elsamina as he joined Ballor. "Let us hope our esteemed guests find you to their satisfaction."

As Elsamina watched the retreating figure of the old man, anger surged within her, causing her fists to clench tightly. She had grown accustomed to being objectified by men who lusted after her. Through encounters with Xantus and the Aizenian knights at the border, she had come to realize that there were some men who remained unaffected by her natural allure.

But Greyviel was much different.

To him, she wasn't even human, but rather a mere commodity to be traded—a piece of merchandise. It was a bitter realization that stung deeply, awakening the vestiges of dignity she thought she’d lost a long time ago.

‘I don’t want to admit it, but even Ballor’s a bit better…’

Elsamina thought to herself, reluctantly acknowledging that at least Ballor still recognized her humanity.

He may have treated all humans as tools to be exploited, whether sexually or financially, but at least he acknowledged their existence.

"Move," Xanthus's cold voice cut through Elsamina's thoughts, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes…” She nodded and strode forward, following the two sorcerers who, in their own distinct ways, embodied equal measures of despicability.

Arc#3 Chapter 43: Hostile Takeover (2)

"Good afternoon, everyone."

Reivan smiled as he stood in front of about fifty men. Although his Akhanian was a bit rough around the edges, it seemed to be enough to convey his thoughts.

""We greet the Boss!""

The gang members all bowed at a ninety-degree angle and greeted him at the top of their lungs. Their clothes were all of visibly better quality, and all of them looked much cleaner too. Putrid body odor was no longer left behind wherever they went, and one wouldn't even know that these men were members of gangs if one saw them on the streets.

Even if he'd only just gathered feedback from some very smart and experienced men, Reivan hadn't been sitting around these past few weeks. With what little funds he had, he'd bought them some decent second-hand clothes, threatened them into being more hygienic, and even went as far as to rent a slightly less dilapidated warehouse where all of them could live in together.

As for food and drink, there were no problems as long as Reivan purchased the food in mainland Aizen. Worgon Outpost aside, basic foodstuffs were dirt cheap in his nation, which was a welcome fact for his dwindling personal wealth.

Honestly, these expenses had practically exhausted his allowance. The only thing stopping Reivan from beating these men up out of frustration was the thought that it was an investment. Fostering some sense of loyalty in these fools would help him out in the long run.

And in fact, they were all visibly more respectful and receptive to his presence, despite his young age. Or perhaps the fact that Reivan was 160 centimeters tall despite being twelve years old masked his youth a little.

'Maybe they just think I'm short and baby-faced...'

Regardless, the provision of clean clothes and ample food, even if they were simple and inexpensive, seemingly brought about a sense of gratitude among them all. These were luxuries not easily attainable for no-name ruffians like them, which made them appreciate it even more.

'At least these guys still have a sense of gratitude...'

Reivan was aware that most of these men had only ever picked pockets or snatched some fruit from stalls. A few may have extorted money out of kids or women too. But very few of them had ever actually committed anything outside of petty crime.

'Maybe that's why there's still some hope for them yet.'

None of them seemed as far gone as the numerous criminals Reivan had encountered. He'd had the opportunity to be in close proximity to rapists, mass murderers, pedophiles, and all sorts of other heinous lawbreakers that would be personally welcomed by the devil himself. As such, he liked to think he had a good sense of when someone was truly hopeless. Given the chance, perhaps they could return to being law-abiding members of society.

'Too bad they met me.'

Reivan snapped his fingers, and one of the knights-in-disguise pushed a wheeled crate to a spot between the prince and the columns of gang members. He nodded, prompting the knight to open the box.

Gasps filled the room as the gang members marveled at the crate's contents. The box reached up to their hips, was as wide as their shoulders, and was filled to the brim with guns.

Piled haphazardly into the crate, were numerous black pistols. Although they did look a bit worn and used, with chips and scratches here and there, they were without a doubt the lethal weapon that could claim an ordinary mortal's life easily.

"Take one each." Reivan gestured.

The gang members momentarily stood dumbfounded, until one of them mustered the courage to sprint forward and secure a weapon, prompting the others to follow suit with eager shouts. After everyone procured their firearms, each swiftly returned to their designated spots — a testament to their good training.

Very satisfied by the sight, Reivan smiled. "You'll be spending the next two hours practicing your marksmanship before we head out to try them out."

"Wh-what?"

"Try them out? What does that mean..."

"Crap, are we gonna rob a guardhouse with these...?"

"Idiot. What the hell could you steal at a guardhouse?"

Reivan ignored their clamoring, signaling for another knight to push an even bigger crate in front of him. Once opened, the contents were revealed to be countless pistol magazines, all of which were already loaded with bullets.

"Later, take a belt from over there." He pointed to the corner. "That way, you can strap loaded magazines and won't have to fumble about as much in the heat of battle. Understood?"

""Yes, Boss!""

"Oh, and I guess this is as good a time as any to set the hierarchy..."

Reivan clapped his hands to regather the attention that had been dissipated by the news of their first battle. He then pointed at himself.

"Naturally, I stand at the top as the Boss. My orders are law. And nobody is above me."

Nobody had anything to say to that, so he moved on, pointing at some of the knights.

"These guys, the ones that beat you all up at the start, are Shadows. Know that their orders are my orders. So they are entitled to beat you within an inch of your life if you disobey, or talk back."

The gang members visibly shuddered at his cruel words, but he ignored them. His fake blue eyes scanned each of their faces before he spoke again.

"And you all, are given the rank of Peon. It's a provisional rank, which means you can be kicked out of the gang at a moment's notice. If you do decently well for a certain amount of time, you become a Grunt. Which means you'd become a full-fledged member of the gang, preferably for all eternity."

The peons all had strange looks on their faces when such a long period of time was mentioned, but most of them seemed more concerned with how much effort it would take to become an associate.

Reivan, as if reading their minds, continued. "The provisional period is three months. If your superiors don't have any gripes about you, and you dutifully follow orders, then you automatically get promoted. If not, your provisional period is extended by a month."

All the peons stirred. Three months? It was both a very long time and not at all.

"That said," Reivan interrupted their thoughts. "If you join the operation this afternoon, you will be promoted to Grunt immediately afterward. Provided that you survive, at least."

There was a clamor yet again, but Reivan's casual remark exacerbated it.

"Oh, did I mention that all grunts will get ten lumens a day as a wage, even if they don't do anything? Naturally, peons don't get shit."

"Ten lumens!?"

"Woah!"

Reivan preemptively took out a gun and fired it in the air, the loud noise immediately silencing the exuberant lackeys, who were about to start their own little celebrations.

"I'm not done talking yet. Actually, if I don't say so, nobody can talk. I'll shoot you if you do," he threatened, a grimace on his handsome face. "Moving on. Those who show merit in tonight's operation will be promoted yet again. From grunts, they'll become Raiders, obtaining the right to command grunts and peons. Their authority will be below the Shadows though."

Knowing what they were most curious about, Reivan rolled his eyes and told them what they wanted.

"Raiders will get thirty lumens as their daily wage."

The peons erupted in silent excitement at the thought of becoming a Raider. Thirty lumens a day was a tremendous amount for them. Although they could steal that amount from time to time, it was never a regular thing and would also have to be split with their accomplices. They also wouldn't be able to do it that often, since guards exist and their appearances didn't really encourage people to let them come close — their body odors didn't help either.

But with this, they could get the same amount just for staying in the gang! Of course, they would obviously be ordered to do some very dangerous things, but none of them seemed to care about that.

"I see that you're all very motivated. It's best that you get to practicing then. Since this is most likely your first time holding guns, the Shadows will give you a crash course."

Like a loosed arrow, the peons immediately got to work, practicing gunmanship with glints in their eyes.

##########

Elsamina took in the sights and sounds of the bustling night market. In a rare turn of events, her usually unexpressive face was filled with curious wonder. As the child of two wealthy merchants, she inherited their dreams of someday being allowed to step into Aizen's borders and conduct business there, eventually establishing a guild in the country.

Although the current circumstances were much more depressing than what she'd dreamt about, Elsamina couldn't help being moved.

Unwilling to let her be happy for any amount of time, Ballor chose this moment to ruin it. "Elsie, babe. Stop fucking gawking around like a stupid bumpkin. We gotta meet up with the others."

Elsamina grimaced but still hasted her steps. She was unable to resist the desire to take frequent peeks though.

'It's a bit less... impressive than I thought. But I suppose it's because it's out in the boonies for them...'

Still, even for a place that stood as the equivalent of a hick town, it was a wonderful city.

Until they went into the alleys.

Elsamina followed Ballor's lead, with Xanthus following from farther behind them — his job essentially being to protect Ballor and his merchandise.

As expected of Aizen, even the alleys inhabited by the scum of society were much cleaner than Elsamina's usual haunt. There weren't people blatantly committing crimes within the darkness either. Still, that didn't stop shady people from being present.

As Elsamina and Ballor passed by, Ballor sneered and held up his middle finger at a group of menacing strangers, causing them to visibly bristle at his disrespect.

However, the group reluctantly backed off after they saw Xanthus and the sword on his hip. They all backed off without a word.

"Aizen's scum dwellers are all pussies, it seems!" Ballor yelled, most likely thinking that the men had backed off because of him. "I own this shit now, you buncha cocksuckers!"

Elsamina rolled her eyes, not bothering to correct his misunderstanding. She just obediently walked forward, hoping that their destination spontaneously combusts before they got there.

Unfortunately, her luck wasn't the best, nor was it decent.

"Ah, this is the place." Ballor pointed at a pub's sign. "A black chalice with a white cross on it. Yep. This is definitely the place."

While she was inwardly exasperated that some idiot didn't think that a pub so far away from foot traffic was suspicious, Elsamina was suddenly jerked back by a thin hand grasping at her neck.

"Listen, bitch. And listen well." Ballor's face was serious as he spat his words out in a coercive whisper. "I don't want any fucking funny business. The people we're about to meet are very important. And we need them to think very favorably of us. So I don't give a fuck if you have to strip the moment we get inside, kneel down, and deepthroat all of their cocks until you choke to fucking death. Do a sexy dance with jizz all over your face for all I care. What matters is that you get this done, and you get this done right."

His fingers tightened around her neck, much like the slave collar she'd worn for the majority of her life. Her lungs screamed for air as her body convulsed. Just as her vision started to darken, the bastard let go, causing her to fall to the cemented ground.

"If you mess this up, I will fucking butcher those girls and make you eat them, bitch. Do not dare to test me."

Elsamina greedily sucked in oxygen and glared at him while rubbing her neck. But she knew for a fact that he was far more serious than she initially thought.

She nodded reluctantly. "I... haa... I get it..."

"Good girl. Sorry about getting rough with you, babe. Here, lemme help you up."

"I can do it myself..." Elsamina struggled up with rough breaths, ignoring his offered hand.

"Suit yourself." Ballor shrugged and turned around. "Xanthus, you're the warrior, you go first."

The ever-silent guardian threw a glance at the pitiful Elsamina before he wordlessly stepped in front of them and opened the door to the pub.

Arc#3 Chapter 42: Hostile Takeover (1)

[Author's Note]

Hello, patrons.

Just wanted to inform you that the new tier will likely be put up tomorrow or the day after. The delay was because I accidentally erased an entire chapter. And all my backups for it, unfortunately, were deleted by my dumb self because I was sure it would be fine.

It was not fine.

Anyway, I had to rewrite an entire chapter (Arc#3 Chapter 44). The chapter should have been included in what I would offer in the next tier, but...

Sigh...

Since I've finished writing up to chapter 45, I have naturally already fleshed out what happens in chapter 44. But to rewrite it... is a pain.

I still did it though. Just need to write the latter half again, which I will hopefully accomplish tomorrow.

Now, about upgrading tiers...

I honestly don't quite understand if it's more worth to wait until next month to upgrade, or is it all the same if you upgrade now...

You guys probably know more about it than me anyway, so just decide by yourselves, I'll totally understand if the new tier is a ghost town until next month. lol

That was a long-ass author's note. Sorry. Here's the chapteroni~!

##########

Reivan sat while surrounded by about a dozen old men — an assortment of scholars, ministers, merchants-turned-ministers, and some old knights who were apparently commanders. He listened to their suggestions with rapt attention, nodding along and rubbing his chin in thought, all while a pen controlled by his willpower wrote everything down.

"With regards to low-life organizations, I believe it would be wise to establish a clear hierarchy from the very start."

"I agree. Of course, Your Highness should be at the top, along with your most trusted confidants. Ah, and you would do well to place a few particularly crooked individuals in middle-management positions. Their abuse of power will garner the hatred of those below them, I'm sure."

"A brilliant idea, Elder. This approach would direct their enmity inward, while ensuring their personal interests align with the organization's stability. Truly ingenious."

"I also have some input, Your Highness. Perhaps it would be a good idea to have them perform small acts of charity in the areas they are based in. This way, they can gain some support from the community, while also alleviating a portion of the resentment that's built up because of their activities. Simple and low-cost acts like cleaning up the streets or opening a free soup kitchen can go a long way."

"A worthwhile endeavor, indeed. Ah! And we must not neglect training and discipline either, especially for a group heavily reliant on violence."

"You, sir, speak the gospel. If I may add to that, collective punishment and collective benefit must also be established. It will help foster a sense of belonging and camaraderie with their group members. In addition to pitting them against each other in the competition for rewards."

"Speaking of fostering belonging and camaraderie, one can achieve it with something like a uniform. A tattoo would be ideal since it can never be removed, making them think twice about leaving or betraying the group since a mark will remain for the rest of their days."

"While that would be nice, it would also provide law enforcement a clear way to distinguish members. Perhaps something more replaceable will do? Like a band or a ring. Maybe an earring?"

'This is great stuff...'

Reivan gladly took note of all their suggestions. He had to admit, he'd been a bit uneasy about running a criminal organization, but with the help of a room full of experienced and intelligent men, he began to think that it wouldn't be that hard.

Of course, Reivan didn't think of running such an organization because he suddenly developed an evil streak. Nor did he get possessed by some sort of demon.

It was all just a part of his plan to clean up the Worgon Outpost a little. That way, he could prevent weird things from festering in its dark alleys — like that big-dicked bird-headed statue that was given to his little sister as a prize.

He'd initially planned to just round up the small gangs to form a big one, then polish them up to compete against the big gangs. But the information he received from interrogating a prisoner at Grimharbor Penitentiary exposed some alarming information.

The results of his interrogation revealed that large organizations from the underside of Arkhan's society were beginning to take an interest in the notion of expanding to Aizen. Which was why they had sent a few "feelers" to probe the place out.

These organizations were nothing like the petty gangs that infested the night market area, which could all be wiped out by a single knight given enough time.

Rogue battle mages that were expelled from the military due to various reasons; large-scale human traffickers with well-trained combat slaves; and even spies from Argonia disguised as mercenaries were abundant in the dark side of Akhan.

The amount of force needed to fight an organization like that would be significantly different that the paltry force of ten knights that Reivan had used to round up all the petty gangs.

'It's a good thing one of Father's spies somehow made it to such a high position in the organization. And it was coincidentally the one I'm targetting!'

It was a lucky break that would make things much easier for Reivan. He would have had to cull a significant portion of the organization, but with the help of someone on the inside, he could probably integrate most of it and act as a sort of hidden boss instead.

'The thing that pisses me off though, is that Father's somehow aware of everything I'm doing...'

It had been a normal day when Rodin suddenly sent him a few papers with a few names, each of which contained the details of Aizenian spies. Communication channels with spies were normally cut off for years at a time, so the information may not have been updated, but they were still very useful.

He appreciated the help, but he hadn't told anyone about the full plan other than Valter — who confirmed under [Essense of Falsehood] that he didn't tell anyone else either!

'It must've been Sir Rolf...'

Still, since he'd received the tacit approval of the king, Reivan took that as a sign that he could do things more openly. Hence, the meeting taking place at the moment.

Why would he waste time struggling with how to lead a gang when he could just consult a room full of people in leadership roles?

Reivan stood up from his chair and lowered his head a little. "Thank you for your input, gentlemen. I will be sure to take them into consideration. It would be great if you'd allow me to pick your brains on another occasion."

"We live to serve, Your Highness!" the old knights stood up and saluted.

A white-bearded scholar chuckled. "You have been a great help to our endeavors, so it's the least we could do. Kindly drop by the academy if you'd like my counsel. Sadly, these old bones of mine can't make the trip to the palace all the time..."

"Of course, of course!" A bald and fat-bellied merchant spread his arms out. "If Your Highness has need my expertise in finance and mercantilism, please do not be afraid to call for me again."

Reivan once again thanked everyone and allowed them all to leave. Once they were gone, he looked over the notes he'd jotted down while sipping on a cup of chocolate milk — chilled, of course.

"Your Highness."

"Gah!" Reivan almost jumped out of his seat in surprise. Realizing who it was, he looked behind him and glared at his guardian knight. "Do you enjoy that?"

"A bit."

"...I see. Anyway, is there a problem?"

Valter walked to the front of the desk before saluting. "All of them have arrived, Your Highness."

Reivan's eyes immediately brightened. "Let's get going, then!"

He'd been waiting for three weeks now.

'I'm coming for you, my little bags of money!'


##########


"Babe, Remember to behave in front of the scary knights performing border checks." Ballor maintained a friendly smile as he whispered to her. "Remember that if I get caught because of you, all those little sluts get pumped with drugs and cum. Then get thrown to the nearest cesspool after their minds break. I kid you not, I will send their body parts to you piece by piece."

"You don't have to keep reminding me." Elsamina rolled her eyes before curiously inspecting their surroundings. It was her first time in a foreign land, and it was the Aizen kingdom she so admired as a little girl. She was so curious about everything that she didn't even mind the human filth she was forced to travel with.

"Sassy, aren't we? Don't think you can do whatever you want just because I took off your collar. I don't need it to force you to obey me."

"I know, I know." She ignored him and took a step forward in line as another traveler was cleared to cross Aizen's borders.

Despite his bravado a few weeks ago, Ballor was visibly anxious, constantly wiping off beads of sweat on his forehead. Being a pretty skilled sorcerer in his own right, there were few who could threaten him. As such, he probably wasn't used to being around so many Aizenian knights — all of whom could eradicate his very existence.

"Goddammit, there are even Ascendants..." Ballor cursed under his breath, eyeing an armored figure floating far into the distance. "Why the fuck are people like that on guard duty...? Shouldn't they be secluding themselves and acting all snooty? Fuck. Fuck."

Elsamina couldn't help but smirk, watching him fidget. It wouldn't make up for the years of abuse she suffered under his thumb, but it still felt refreshing nonetheless.

"Calm down, Ballor." A cold voice spoke out from behind them. "You'll only attract more attention if you keep squirming around like a worm."

"That's easy for you to say. I'm not an unfeeling ghost like you, Xanthus. I actually have feelings. I'm a delicate creature!"

'Like hell, you are. You sack of shit.'

Elsamina cursed the disgusting man while glancing at Xanthus behind her, who just silently stood there, as if he didn't care about anything at all.

'With him here, I definitely wouldn't be able to escape even if I wanted to.'

If it was just Ballor, she could have found a chance when the bastard inevitably fails to resist smoking some concentrated glimmerweed.

But with Xanthus, it was different. The man was a machine of efficiency. Be it drugs or gambling, none of them seemed to appeal to the strongest man in their organization — the silver cross. Even when Ballor had offered to let him use Elsamina for a while, Xanthus hadn't bitten.

The only thing that seemed to move the man was money.

'As broke as I am, I won't be able to buy him off. Not that I would want to escape in the first place. What with Bella and the others held as hostages by this bastard...'

The thought infuriated her yet again. She almost wanted to throw caution to the wind and yell for help from the knights. But her junior's pure smile, even after being defiled repeatedly in that horrid place, kept her from doing anything rash.

Even with the thought that Ballor could just do whatever he wanted to them after she was sold off to who-knew-who, she still couldn't do it. She couldn't risk the lives of such precious people.

And so, with dark emotions in her heart, Elsamina obediently waited in line.


##########


"Papers, please." A knight with everything below his neck covered in silver armor towered over them as he held out a hand. "And state your business."

"Of course, of course..." Ballor put on a smile of gratification as he handed over the relevant papers for all three of them. "My name is Bollar. And this is my wife, Elsie. We've come to sightsee... and maybe stay even longer if fate permits. Behind us is our hired guard, Xander."

"A guard, huh..." A second knight standing right next to the one currently inspecting their papers eyed them suspiciously. "Quite a strong guard you have here."

"Ah, well. I've heard Worgon Outpost has its fair share of danger as well. You can never be too prepared, as they say. And I have an even bigger reason to be careful, what with having such a beautiful wife, no?"

Ballor gestured towards Elsamina, signaling for her to bow, and she obliged. As she gracefully lowered herself, her attire, accentuated by a somewhat revealing dress, showcased a prominent and alluring glimpse of her cleavage.

As she glanced up to meet their gazes, she was taken aback to find their expressions unchanged. The first knight attentively perused their papers, while the second knight regarded her with an air of serenity. It was a striking contrast from her past encounters. Despite the scrutiny of his eyes, she detected no hint of desire, as if he were merely inspecting a lifeless document, just like the first knight was doing.

'They're so similar to Xanthus...'

"Indeed. She is very beautiful." The knight nodded, speaking in a tone of calmness.

"I'm glad you agree!" Ballor, who seemed not to notice how unmoved the knights were, put on a sleazy grin. "To be honest with you, my wife and I have certain... hobbies. She enjoys the company of other men, and I don't mind. Perhaps, sir is—"

"No, thank you." The second knight cut him off. "I have no such interests. In any case, kindly listen, as I will not repeat myself."

The wind taken out of his sails, Ballor backed off. "Eh, ah... Yes, sir..."

"You now have the pleasure of stepping into our great nation's soil. And we welcome you. However, please note that your standard visa does not allow you to travel beyond the confines of Worgon Outpost. Any attempts to do so, even at the claim of ignorance, will be met with lethal force."

Elsamina couldn't help but gulp at the merciless announcement. It seemed that the tales were true; Aizen truly pulled no punches when it came to the safety of their citizens.

"Your visa can be upgraded to special grade through merits, or an endorsement from the republic or any of Aizen's trusted organizations. But I suggest that you don't count on it, since the chances of obtaining one are slim."

'Hah. So that's why this bastard was so upset a few days ago...'

Ballor had likely attempted to get a special grade visa for himself but failed to do so. Elsamina knew since he'd unfortunately vented his frustrations on her.

The knight cleared his throat before continuing. "Worgon Outpost is shared territory with the republic, so Aizen's laws aren't entirely enacted here. However, there are still some things that you must take note of."

"Please, do tell." Ballor smiled and nodded his head.

The first knight was the one who spoke up first. "Please be aware that Aizen has recently integrated a clan of warbeasts into its citizenry. As such, do not be surprised if you see people with animal ears and a tail."

"Animal ears and a tail..." Ballor repeated, as if almost in a trance.

Elsamina knew that the bastard was likely thinking about the possibility of abducting one and selling them to the highest bidder back in the republic. Or even better, abducting a few of them for breeding. That way, he'd have a constant supply of exotic slaves.

'I can't believe I know how this bastard thinks so well...'

"Be aware." The second knight cautioned. "The warbeasts are much more physically able than humans, and even have an innate resistance to sorcery and elementalism. A fight with them will likely not end well, even if you are some type of spellcaster."

"I-I see..." Ballor nodded, anxiously fidgeting with his spatial ring, where his wand was kept. "We'll definitely keep that in mind."

"With that out of the way..." The first knight looked at each of them in turn, before his previously serious face broke into a friendly smile.

Staring into the knight's cryptic gaze, Elsamina couldn't help but shudder.

"Welcome to Aizen."

Interlude: The Soiled Temptress

[Author's Note]

The following chapter is very dark. And sensitive themes are explored.

I feel no guilt, as I have all the content warning tags checked over at RR and SH.

I don't go too descriptive... but prepare your heart anyway.

Oh, and if it wasn't obvious — the views and opinions of the fictional characters do not reflect the views of the author.

With that outta the way, here is the chapter. It's beefy, at 3.7k words and no stat-pages.

#####

As the Magitechnocratic Republic of Arkhan's capital city, Arkhana was a testament to the nation's progress in pushing magitech and sorcery to heights unseen.

Upon approaching the city gates, one is greeted by shimmering barriers of arcane energy, a testament to the city's advanced magical defenses. The air was infused with a subtle hum of magical currents and the soft glow of enchanted street lamps that illuminated the winding streets below.

Tall spires and towers of polished stone and gleaming metal reached towards the sky, erected in key locations along the walls. Their surfaces were adorned with intricate runes and glyphs that channel the mysterious power of sorcery.

Arkhana's streets were a vibrant tapestry of colors and cultures, bustling with a diverse mix of ethnicities. Walking through the busy streets, one encounters a diverse array of individuals donned in Victorian-era fashion infused with wizardly elements. Very noticeable were a few purple-robed men and women with wands — sticks of twisted wood with numerous microscopic runes glowing along their surface — strapped to their belts, receiving gazes of awe and fear from those around them. Mixed with the steps of hundreds of people were the rhythmic clanking of metal as a troop of golems marched through the streets.

Truly, one would be unable to find a better bastion of arcane knowledge and technology even if one searched the entirety of the republic.

The capital city was not without its contrasts, however. Amidst the gleaming facades and technological marvels, narrow alleyways shrouded in shadows harbor mysterious shops and clandestine gatherings. In this corner of the city, where darkness hid rotting corpses and other sinister actions, few dared to tread.

Unfortunately for Elsamina, these kinds of places just happened to be where she lived ever since she was enslaved.

Her dead green eyes blankly stared forward as she walked deeper and deeper into the darkness. Over the years, she'd grown quite accustomed to walking around with minimal light, which was just another one of her misfortunes since this made it easier to see the vile things that happened around her.

What was undoubtedly a homeless man was rummaging through a corpse's pockets for anything valuable. Elsamina had no doubt that the corpse had been another homeless man, who'd been unfortunate enough to fall unconscious in these alleys, prompting a vulture to strangle him in his sleep.

To the side were three drunk men having sex with a woman who was obviously drugged out of her mind. Once the woman came to, she would likely wake up in a brothel with a collar of enslavement around her neck and a belly full of fluid from countless strangers. Perhaps the brothel would be the one Elsamina worked at. If that were the case, she pitied the girl, but would do her best to help her out.

And worst of all were the ones who seemingly weren't doing anything. After all, if no ordinary people loitered in this place willingly.

"Elsamina!" One of the men called out to her, a dirty grin on his face as he licked his lips. He made no signs of hiding his predatory gaze. Even without proper lighting and the heavy cloak hiding most of it, her body's silhouette must have made for a pleasant treat to the hoodlum. "Lookin' good! You've really got the best ass and tits I've ever laid eyes on! Fuck, my dick's so goddamn hard..."

"I didn't need to know that." she walked on, ignoring the man. "And I don't really care."

"Heh, what I'm saying is you should lemme buy you. I'll show you a good time!"

The man was about to make a grab for the passing woman, but his companions stopped him.

"Stow it, fool. You can jeer but you can't touch Ballor's girls. We don't want Xanthus coming after us... he can take our gang out on his own!"

"Yeah. Settle down and we'll drop by the Sultry Siren later. My treat."

Hearing the three hoodlums back off, Elsamina secretly heaved a sigh of relief and let go of the pistol hidden underneath her cloak — an ancient weapon from Aizen's founding that they've long thrown to the side, but a lethal armament nonetheless, especially to ordinary folks like her and the gang hooligans in Arkhan's alleys.

'Luckily, Ballor's name still holds some weight around here.'

Very soon, that would change, however. And Elsamina didn't know whether to rejoice or despair at the thought.

Her steps brought her deeper and deeper into society's underbelly, and in contrast to the earlier incident, nobody bothered her anymore. There were no more corpses or drugged girls being preyed upon, and the sources of light steadily increased, revealing her luscious red hair and the cleaner surroundings.

However, Elsamina was fully aware that despite the lack of visible crime, this zone was where the most heinous ones happened.

'This place would be better off burned to the ground...'

Her trembling fists clenched in righteous anger, recalling all the things she had to go through — all the things everyone had to go through because of the people residing in the darkness. If she had to continue living the way she did, she'd rather just die.

'No. Don't give up just yet, Elsamina. You still have to find where your brother is.'

She wasn't the only one sold into slavery. Her brother was bought as a "set" with her.

And she hadn't seen him in years.

For Elsamina, whose life pretty much had no meaning anymore, reuniting with her brother was one of the only things driving her forward.

'I have to find him.'

#####

Elsamina didn't have to walk far. Eventually, she made it to the place she called her home — if you could call it home — since her parents were coerced into selling her off. In this opulent building filled with sighs of smoke and women, she grew up to become the woman she was today.

Tucked away in the deepest reaches of Arkhana's dark underbelly, amidst flickering lanterns and the distant laughter of men stood a notorious establishment called the "Wishing Fountain". With its beautiful crimson walls engraved with golden embellishments and red curtains, it proudly made its presence known as a brothel. The sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and lively music spilled out onto the streets, enticing passersby with promises of pleasure and forbidden delights. Inside, the dimly lit interior was adorned with ornate furnishings, plush seating, and intricate tapestries that whispered tales of seduction.

'They're using the good stuff today. I guess someone important is coming...'

Elsamina's nose wrinkled. This did not bode well for her at all.

The air was heavy with a heavy mix of perfume and tobacco, adding to the allure that permeated every corner of the establishment. However, Elsamina could still make out the familiar scent of something different — something evil. Elsamina sent a silent prayer for all the customers in the establishment, for all of them would likely be coming back here for more, whether they intended to or not.

Elsamina covered her nose with a handkerchief before sliding into a side door framed by bulky guards. As she passed by, she could feel their sticky gazes trying to peek into her cleavage and measuring her plump buttocks, but she'd grown used to these things at some point. Besides, as mere bouncers, they likely didn't have the necessary qualifications for Ballor to let them use her, so looking was all they would ever be allowed to do unless these thugs somehow learned how to cast spells better than her owner.

She made her way through winding corridors and hidden entrances, eventually making it to her owner's office. Anticipating the unpleasant audience, Elsamina's eyes darkened and her enchanting face grimaced. However, she quickly forced herself to look expressionless, knowing that Ballor delighted in eliciting negative emotions from his slaves.

Knock Knock Knock

"Is that you, Elsa? Come in, babe. Quickly."

A familiar raspy voice — more unpleasant to Elsamina's ears than the wailing of a banshee — responded to her knocking. She took a deep breath before opening the door.

"Ugh." Elsamina's mask of indifference was immediately broken once the heavy smell of glimmerweed forced its way into her nose.

"Ah, sorry about that." Ballor sounded entirely unapologetic as he spoke from within the room. "Come in, come in."

Even though she really didn't want to, the collar on Elsamina's neck would try to strangle her until she obeyed. As such, she stepped into the room, staring straight at the man who owned her — she knew that looking away or appearing feeble would somehow excite him, so she did her best not to break away.

'Disgusting...'

Despite not letting her gaze falter, Elsamina still noticed a few things in her peripheral vision. Like how the one-piece robe Ballor wore was open, revealing his skinny chest. And the dress that was carelessly thrown to the floor. Naturally, she didn't miss how Balor sent glances under his desk from time to time.

Elsamina didn't live in a brothel for more than a decade in vain. She knew someone was sucking this bastard's dick under the table right now.

'Probably someone new. Poor girl...'

Holding back the curses in her heart, she decided to comfort the unfortunate girl later.

Ballor flicked back his sweaty black hair, revealing a gaunt face. He smiled as he sat behind his desk, and gestured toward the velvet seat in front of it. "Sit."

"Yes, Master." Elsamina obeyed. She unhooked her cloak and let it fall to the ground before sitting down.

"Now, we have things to talk abo—AH! I TOLD YOU TO BE CAREFUL WITH YOUR TEETH!" Ballor stood up in rage. He dragged the girl out from under the table and gave her a swift kick. "Do I have to kick out all your teeth until you learn? You stupid bitch!"

The naked girl did her best to stop the man's relentless assaults, shouting incomprehensible words in some foreign language. However, his brutality eventually won. With blood oozing out of her orifices, the poor girl slumped to the floor. Despite Ballor's continuous kicks, her body lay limp.

Elsamina stayed seated, unable to do anything but watch because of the collar around her neck. Nonetheless, her eyes seethed with concealed rage as her fists clenched.

"Hoo." Ballor eventually calmed down, realizing what he'd done. He clicked his tongue and sent another, harder kick at the woman's corpse. "Fuck. I paid a lot to have that bitch carted over from Pentagoria... That's a whole 'nother continent, y'know!"

In anger, Ballor raised his foot to restart his kicking, but then stopped. A smile bloomed on his face.

"I can still sell this to that freak who liked fucking corpses. I'm a genius!" Ballor slapped his forehead and cackled before plopping back down on his chair. He sent a look toward the only other living human in the room. "Now, where were we?"

"... You called me." Elsamina tried to stop her voice from trembling. "And I came. As you ordered."

"Ah, right, right..." Ballor bobbed his head while fiddling with a pipe. He took out a wand from a desk drawer and produced a few embers with sorcery. "Hoo. That's the good stuff right there. Anyway, business, business... Elsa, babe. You know about Aizen, right?"

"Of course, I do."

'Who wouldn't...?'

When she was still a little girl, and her parents' business was still going smoothly, a few books from Aizen trickled into the market, and Elsamina was given a few as a birthday present.

'That felt like such a long time ago...'

It had been a time when she, her brother, and her parents were happy. Memories from that time should have made her happy, but Elsamina found that she could barely remember them now. Lots of things — horrible things — had happened between that period and the present.

'I can't remember them anymore...'

"Hello~? Elsa, babe? You still alive?"

Elsamina broke out of her thoughts when Ballor started tapping at the table with his pipe, a "worried" expression on his face.

"Hey, did you suck up too much glimmerweed? Stay with me alright? I still need your tight pussy to squeeze some VIP dick. Don't go crazy on me yet, people surprisingly love your little dead-fish act."

"...Yes, Master."

"Speaking of your pussy, someone important will come later. Pretty yourself up and give 'em a good time, eh?" Ballor snickered as he sucked on his pipe. "Fwoo... Speaking of, the guest is vital for my next expansion. Well, he's not actually important, but his connection to someone important is. We're gonna expand the business to Aizen, baby!"

"Wh-what...?"

"Heh. Surprised? You may not know this cuz you've been too busy getting railed, but relations between Arkhan and Aizen have improved lately. Get this, aside from the land route, the fastest way to get to Aizen is a sea route passing through the east gulf, yeah? A few years ago, the kingdom made their westernmost outpost, the one right next to the gulf, into a sorta shared territory with Arkhan! Oh, but they also have a shared territory on our side, but that doesn't matter right now."

Elsamina frowned as she listened. To be honest, she'd known about the city a long time ago. What surprised her was the fact that Ballor wanted to expand into Aizen.

'This guy finally went nuts from all the drugs...'

Everyone and their mothers knew how terrifying the Aizen kingdom was. Back when their countries had been hostile with each other, lone knights had toyed around with Arkhan's golem legions. Only battle mages — Arkhan's core forces — could put up a fight. And even then, they'd have to heavily outnumber the knights.

'What in the world gave this human filth the courage to expand into such a dangerous place when he's having so much trouble with the other organizations here!?'

"Gahahaha!" Ballor banged his pipe on the table, throwing burning embers all over the place. "It may be different in their actual cities, but Aizen doesn't give a fuck about Worgon, it seems. Works for us, since that'll give us a way to make some money out of those foreigners! The exchange rate is crazy right now, so for every coin we earn over there, we get a sack of moo-lah here! I bet that with a few days of business there, I could buy ten of you! Gahahaha!"

'Is it really that lax...?'

Elsamina seriously doubted whether the kingdom truly left a city in their lands alone. But she chose to not say anything.

'If this guy ends up getting killed over there, that can only be a good thing for the world.'

The collar assured obedience, but Elsamina didn't have to warn the bastard about anything. Even if her body obeyed him, her heart and mind never would.

'Good riddance.'

She couldn't help but smirk at the thought of this vile man getting his just deserts.

"Oh, that's rare. Smiling, eh?" Ballor didn't miss her change in expression. "Well, here's some bad news for ya. The VIP you're fucking later? He's in charge of smuggling us into Worgon and he's also into some really rough stuff! He's killed a bunch of my girls, actually. Don't worry though, I told him I'd literally kill him if he went too rough on ya. Plus, I've got a potion in reserve."

Elsamina's shoulders trembled. But she soon calmed down.

'It's not like this is the first time.'

Seemingly sensing her relief, Ballor continued his tirade with a dirty grin on his face. "And I know you hate my guts for all I've done to you, so I'll do you a favor! After we cross the border, I'll be handing you over to a VIP over at Worgon as a bribe. I sent him your full-body portrait, and he couldn't believe it! He wants to see you in person. Heh."

Her face showed no movement but she visibly paled at the man's words.

But it seemed it wasn't over yet.

"Anyway, since we won't be working with each other soon, I'll tell you a secret you've wanted to know for loooooooong time." Ballor stood up and leaned over the table. "It's about your brother."

"Wha—!" Elsamina's mask shattered in an instant. Her lips trembled as she pleaded. "Wh-where..."

"You wanna know? You really wanna knooooow?"

Ballor spun around for dramatic effect, his back turned toward her. He stood like that for a few seconds before suddenly turning back around with the nastiest smile Elsamina had ever seen on his face.

"He's DEAD!"

The nasty bastard's words were a huge blow to Elsamina, stunning her into silence and causing her mind to blank out.

In the depths of her mind, Elsamina concealed the pessimistic notion that her brother had departed from the realm of the living. The mere thought weighed heavily on her, depriving her of sleep, even after serving a man for most of the night.

But she'd held on by silencing those despairing thoughts. Dreaming of the day she'd meet with her brother again. And perhaps if they were ever freed, they could move to a quiet village in the east of the republic, far away from war or the filthy claws of the underworld. She didn't hope to find a man that would accept someone as dirty as her, but watching over her brother's children as the neighborhood aunty would have been enough for her to be happy.

'He's dead...'

Cold, harsh reality was finally sinking in for Elsamina. If one thought about it with a clear head, there was no way for a young boy to meet a good fate in Ballor's hands. If they didn't get their minds broken from having narcotics and hallucinogens tested on them, they would be forced into being drug mules, ferrying drugs across city borders until they got caught by guards and executed publicly.

There was also the possibility of being dragged into the violence of gang life, and meeting their end in a street brawl.

Thinking about the horrors that her poor brother must have had to face in life, Elsamina suddenly became aware of the tears that had started falling from her eyes.

"Beautiful." Ballor climbed over his desk, throwing aside everything that had been on top of it. He pushed his face closer, marveling at her countenance with a face marred in ecstasy. "You're beautiful, Elsa. If I'd known you could make a face like this, I would've fucked your brother to death in front of you instead of selling him to that faggot!

"Ack!" Elsamina cried out in pain as she was pulled by the hair and thrown to the floor. The clothes she wore were ripped off her haphazardly, exposing her pearly white skin, free from blemishes. Biting her lips and closing her eyes shut, she prepared for what she knew was coming.

"Your sadness, your grief, your despair! I FUCKING LOVE IT! You make me so fucking horny! Screw tonight's customer, I'll be having you for myself!"

Without a care in the world, Ballor pinned her to the ground and ran his tongue all over her body, focusing on the soft mounds of flesh on her chest.

This was not the first time Ballor would ravish her, but all the same, she felt defiled. With the confirmation of her brother's death, she didn't even feel like life had any meaning at this point.

'Maybe I should just end it all...'

The gun wouldn't work as a suicide tool for a slave like her. But the tightening of the collar and the paralyzing electric shocks it emitted when she disobeyed would likely be unable to stop her fast enough before she jumped off the third floor. It was a proven fact since plenty of slaves had used a similar method to take their own lives.

As if reading her thoughts, Ballor laughed while grabbing her neck, his tight grip causing her to gasp for hair.

"Don't even think about offing yourself, bitch. I know how close you are to the little ones upstairs. It'd be a shame if they had to serve the wrong customers! They're so young, do you want them to follow in your brother's footsteps? Hm~?"

"DON'T YOU DARE DO ANYTHI—"

Before Elsamina could finish bellowing out the words, she was cut off when her head jerked to the side, searing pain on the left side of her face quickly following.

Ballor raised his hand and hit her again. And again. "I love the angry look on your face too, but you know I don't like backtalk, right?"

Elsamina glared daggers at him but said no more. She once again closed her eyes and turned away, wishing for him to finish as fast as possible.

"Good! You understand. But good god, Elsa. You've been getting rammed by dick for more than a decade now, you'd think that was enough time for someone to give up and accept their fate as a cock sleeve. But you just wouldn't give up! I absolutely love that about you!"

Unable to resist, Elsamina's tears continued to flow as she cursed her fate. Knowing what was to come, Elsamina desperately wished to escape her nightmarish reality. Anything would do, she just wanted to mentally flee.

That was when she recalled the Aizenian storybooks she'd read. Strangely enough, her memories about the parents who sold off their children were fuzzy, but the joy and excitement she'd experienced while engrossed in those tales remained with remarkable clarity, as if she had devoured the pages just yesterday.

Her favorite stories were always the ones about knights fighting against evil, enacting justice, winning glory for their liege, and saving the damsel in distress.

The exhilaration from those cherished narratives made Elsamina think about the possibility of a knight in shining armor coming in from nowhere and saving her from her plight. But Elsamina quickly threw those foolish thoughts away.

She was a prostitute.

Although Ballor raised her as a high-quality product, only letting VIPs use her body, she was still, in the end, a prostitute.

Her body was impure. Although much fewer than her comrades in the brothel, plenty of men had had their turn toying with her body.

No story would have her as the heroine. And no hero would accept her into their heart.

No one would save her.

There would never be a hero in her story.

Her life was a tragedy. It wouldn't have even made for a creative story.

A tale as old as time itself.

That was her story.

Arc#3 Chapter 41: Side Hustle

[author's note]

Hello, dear patron.

Just a few announcements.

For the first two, I go more in-depth in my latest chap in RR or SH, but I'll just speed-run it for you guys.

• I rewrote Arc#1 Chapter 1.  Nothing changed. I just took out a bunch of unnecessary descriptions and fluff. From 5.4k words, it went down to 4k. I also polished it up a bit. You can read it if you want. Or don't.
• Y'know that part back in Arc#2 that a lot of people hate? The part where Reivan gets amnesia for a bit? I'm gonna do a hard rewrite for that.
• From the last patreon chapter, the term "Etherblade Arts" has been changed to "Aetherblade Arts". The reason for this change is that after rereading the chapter, I had an epiphany that Aetherblade was cooler. So there. Changed.
• My backlog has now grown to five chapters, so I'm thinking about opening up the next Patreon tier in a couple of days. [The Mortal Tier], which will be 3$ for three chapters for now. The goal is for me to have such a massive backlog that I can offer maybe 5-7 chapters for 3$ — of course, this is after I've opened up every single tier I had in mind: Knight, Ascendent, Transcendent, and Archon.

Anyway, that's all the news. I just didn't know if some of you still checked in on RR/SH so I included this here. Wouldn't want you to be out of the loop.

[/author's note]

###

Reivan roughly dried his hair off with a towel, having just finished a quick shower. He then threw a glance at the orange sky outside his room's window. He'd spent quite a bit of time watching the squires train. And even after that, Donovan drilled him with some "basic" skills and movements — all of which, he must commit to muscle memory during his free time.

'It'll be easy with [Glimpse of Eternity]...'

A confident grin bloomed on his face, anticipating the look of shock on the old bastard's face once he showed off how fast he mastered the so-called basics. After chuckling to himself a little, Reivan shook his head free of idle thoughts.

After all, he had a very important task tonight. Its importance was paramount, for success would not only net him a substantial amount of personal wealth, but also contribute significantly to his father's ambitions.

'It should be about time for Valter to pick me up.'

And indeed it was.

A handsome man with slicked-back purple hair suddenly appeared behind Reivan. "Good evening, Your Highness. I have come as instructed. I hope you did not wait long."

"Your timing is impeccable. Anyway, let's go."

Using Valter's black puddle, they instantly appeared in front of the palace's warp gate, which they then passed through to arrive at their destination.

The westernmost inhabited area within Aizen's borders: Worgon Outpost.

#####

In a dilapidated warehouse filled with empty crates and barrels, where the roof let a bit of the rain drip through countless holes, Reivan and Valter met up with a group of people dressed in somewhat ragged attires.

Quite frankly, they all looked like homeless bums — an extinct creature in mainland Aizen, but not in Worgon Outpost.

Though their attire was worn and their appearances unremarkable, every one of these men was, in fact, an active-duty knight. Their bodies, honed by torturous training, lay concealed beneath layers of dust, yet their commanding presence and unwavering gazes betrayed their true nature as professional warriors.

""We greet His Highness, Prince Reivan.""

"Good evening, sirs." Reivan greeted them back with a smile and a salute. "Thank you for agreeing to participate in my little project. I'm aware that you are all on semi-long breaks for various reasons, yet here you are. I cannot thank you enough."

"There is no need for you to waste your gratitude on us, Your Highness."

"It's not like my wife will give birth this very instant. She can wait!"

"Yes! It is our pleasure to enact the royal family's profound will."

'Well, it's not really profound. We're just gonna beat some bad guys up. Coerce them. Then then rob some even bigger bad guys. And then we'll have our mole on the inside take over the whole organization. Oh, wait. Speaking of the mole...'

Making a mental note to speed up the operation so that a knight wouldn't have to miss the moment of his kid's birth, Reivan turned toward his guardian knight.

"Valter, are you sure the mole was contacted properly? I was told that communications with them are cut off for years at a time so their covers aren't blown while infiltrating the republic."

"There is no need to worry, Your Highness. I personally visited the spy. They have been informed, and have already started making preparations of their own."

"Great." Reivan's smile grew bigger.

"That said, they will not step foot on Aizen's soil for a while. Apparently, they wish to round up more of the organization's top brass, so it will take him two to three weeks."

"That's fine. In the meantime, we can prepare for their arrival."

Aside from the Valter, there were ten other knights in the warehouse — a numerically small force for what they intended to do. However, since they were all official knights, it was actually overkill.

"Just another friendly reminder for everyone." Reivan maintained a smile as he spoke respectfully, gazing at each of the knights in turn. "Our purpose is not to annihilate, but to subjugate. We also can't let them foster suspicions that we're affiliated with Aizen, so you cannot use etherblade arts and your Soul Armaments. As for Qi and mana augmentation, there is no need, since nobody in a gang is strong enough to warrant such force. All the capable people are either in the military or in large criminal organizations. As such, kindly stick to the basic stuff. And try not to look too strong."

""By your will, Your Highness.""

"Don't call me that for now. Just refer to me as 'Boss' or 'Sir'. I'll be wearing a ring to disguise my appearance too, so don't do anything to blow my cover."

""Yes, sir.""

"Very good. Valter will be joining us as well, but he'll act as my shadow. Just in case. Know that most of the work will still be done by you guys. And I'll be fighting a bit too. Understood?"

""Understood!""

"Good. Let's begin."

Reivan turned around and led the group out of the abandoned warehouse.

'I can't wait to be rich again.'

#####

"Tsk. Fuck this rain..." Doneo spat on the ground as he grimaced at the dark sky. He'd wanted to go out and pick some pockets, but practically no one would be out and about in this weather.

With no other choice, he'd have to stay in his gang's hideout where the rest of his associates were idling away, playing cards or dice.

'Damn. I didn't go all the way to Aizen to live this kinda life...'

Doneo's greatest misfortune was getting hooked on gambling. With big dreams, he'd crossed the gulf between Arkhan and Aizen, crossing the border to the greatest nation in the continent to sell his wares.

Only to lose all his savings in a game of dice — well, multiple games of dice throughout the span of a month.

With no family to return to back home, no money to go anywhere else, and no ability to make something of himself, Doneo had no other choice but to turn to a life of petty crime to survive.

Of course, he knew his limits. He stayed away from the big gangs, knowing it was only a matter of time before Aizen stomped them flat. Staying in a small-time gang doing small-time crimes was enough for him — especially since the biggest punishment he'd suffer from it was deportation or a few nights in a slammer.

It definitely wasn't because the bigger gangs wouldn't let him join.

"Hey, Donny! Come play some cards!" Conin, one of his colleagues, waved at him as he headed inside the worn-out house that was their hideout.

Doneo shook his head with a sad smirk. "Can't. Got no money."

"Just pay us back next time!"

"Works for me!"

At the end of the day, Doneo couldn't really stop the urge to gamble. He wouldn't feel alive otherwise. And so, even if it meant going further into debt, he made his way over to the table where three other gang members sat, waiting for the cards to be dealt.

'I just need to win!'

He'd been losing a lot lately, so he felt that it was just about time for him to catch a lucky break. Convinced that whatever god was up there would let him win a few games to even out the losses, Doneo took his seat around the table and rubbed his hands in anticipation of the money he was going to win.

"Hey! Who the fuck are you!?"

He almost jumped out of his own skin when Conin suddenly stood up and bellowed at someone near the entrance. Doneo turned around to look at whoever Conin was staring so menacingly at, and saw what seemed to be a bum in tattered clothing standing in the doorway — which didn't have a door anymore since the gang members didn't know how to fix the broken hinges.

"Sorry." The strange man spoke in broken Arkhanian, with a clear and baritone voice that easily filled the small space. "It started raining suddenly. I just wanted a place to let it pass. I'll try not to disturb you, I promise."

"FUCK OFF!"

The furious Conin threw the deck of cards he'd been shuffling onto the table and stomped over to the beggar with a fierce expression. No doubt, he was glad for the opportunity to vent his stress on someone weaker.

'Uh, something doesn't feel right about this...'

Doneo didn't know why, but he disliked the idea of needlessly provoking the man.

Maybe it was the fact that the bum was a head taller than any of them in addition to being quite muscular. Or how he didn't seem scared in the slightest, even with a gang member marching over to him. Perhaps it was the fact that the beggar wasn't wet at all despite supposedly getting caught in the sudden downpour.

It could have also been a combination of everything.

In any case, Doneo was of the mind to just let the weird stranger take shelter from the rain.

Unfortunately, his fellow gang member had other ideas, throwing a punch at the bum's grungy face.

"I told you to fuck... off!"

Although amateurish even to Doneo's eyes, his colleague had thrown the punch with all of his weight, seemingly intending to teach the hobo a hard lesson life.

However, the vagrant effortlessly evaded the blow and swiftly retaliated with a powerful right hook, landing it squarely on the enraged gang member's abdomen.

"UGH!" Conin's eyes bulged as his breath was forcefully expelled from his lungs. His knees gave way, and he crumpled to the ground, his body limp and kneeling.

Sealing the fate of the fallen gangster, the bum's leg sliced through the air, landing a resounding strike against Conin's cheek.

Motionless, like a discarded puppet, Conin lay sprawled on the ground. Everyone watching was somehow convinced that he'd stay like that for the next few hours.

"Wha..." Doneo's jaw dropped as he watched. Conin may have been a small-time crook, but when it came to fights and brawls, he'd been the most dependable member of their ragtag bunch.

It took a few moments for the other gang members to react, but they eventually all bolted up and equipped themselves with various makeshift weapons. One had a pipe, another had a wooden stick as a makeshift club, and another took out a knuckleduster. As for the others, they picked up the bottles of alcohol on the ground.

Doneo still had a sinking feeling in his chest but he also took out a worn-out leather sack with a few rocks inside — his best attempt at making a sap, or as some may call it, a blackjack.

With the sound of heavy rainfall masking the loud beating of their hearts, the gang members prepared to surround the lone bum but had to stop in their tracks when two more men wearing tattered clothes made their presence known from behind the first.

'We're fucked.'

Doneo was instinctively aware of this sad fact.

He wanted to run away really badly. Unfortunately, a broken door made it hard to keep warm at night, so the gang members had boarded up the windows and other entrances to prevent the cold night air from blowing in too much. Because of this, the only way in or out of the hideout was the entrance with three very scary men blocking the way.

"Where is your leader?" The first bum asked, in English this time.

Doneo and the gang members, who'd all pretty much given up on the notion of fighting back, looked at each other with strange expressions.

'We don't have a leader...'

Their little group had formed simply because being alone was a masochistic endeavor. As for leaders and whatnot, they hadn't even thought of appointing one. Conin had been the best fighter, and as such, should have been a candidate for leader. However, the man had a tendency to rush headlong into trouble, and the others didn't want to follow his lead for the most part.

"Where is your leader?" the first bum repeated, his tone much more frigid.

"Th-the thing is..." Doneo spoke up, following the vagrant's lead in speaking in English. Luckily, he'd had ample time to practice a bit of eloquence. That said, the act itself made him feel as if he'd just consumed a lifetime's worth of courage.

"Speak. Quickly."

"Ah, yes! We, uh... We don't have one... A leader, that is..."

"You don't...?"

"Yes..."

The three intruders shared a few looks of utter confusion for a moment before the first one spoke again, pointing a finger at Doneo.

"You're the leader now."

Doneo choked. Him? The leader?

"If you understand, say yes."

"Y-yes. Alright..." Doneo nodded, resolved to do whatever it took to appease these incredibly dangerous men.

"Good." The scary hobo nodded before turning around. "All of you, follow us. Carry the unconscious one."

Doneo watched as the three bums walked right into the heavy rain.

"We suggest you don't try to escape. We are much faster than you."

'I don't doubt that at all.'

Doneo scratched the back of his head, letting the weapon in his hand drop to the floor. He felt that it was useless now. With a heavy sigh, he turned back to look at his other gang members.

"So, uh. Let's go...?"

#####

"Sir, these are all the small-time gang members around these parts."

Reivan nodded at the knight's report. As his gaze followed a group of men carrying an unconscious colleague into the warehouse, he hopped off the stack of empty crates he'd been sitting on. He silently landed on the ground like a cat before practicing the Arkhanian lines in his head one last time.

Once he felt confident enough, he spoke in seemingly fluent Arkhanian to all the petty crooks gathered in front of him.

"Good evening, shitheads. I'm glad you could make it despite the horrible weather we're having. In any case, let's just cut to the chase..."

Combing back his fake black hair, Reivan's equally fake blue eyes scanned the confused hoodlums.

"From now on, all of you work for me."

Arc#3 Chapter 40: Unbreakable

"Ugh..." Reivan groaned while rubbing his reddened nose. The dull pain prevented him from feeling too happy about his victory against the three squires.

'What the hell was that, anyway...'

He didn't think he underestimated the three of them. But he sure didn't expect Alfered to have learned those types of moves when even Reivan hadn't been taught them yet. At most, he could do some basic elementalism, releasing the elements in their raw form; like shooting a pebble-sized block of ice or zapping someone with an electric charge.

As for the application of raw mana, Reivan hadn't received that level of education yet. Valter had said that he should focus on control development for now.

'But that was definitely an aetherblade art...'

Aetherblade Arts.

It was a generalizing term that Aizen used to refer to special techniques that knights used in a variety of situations. Very often, it involved unattributed mana since most knights didn't have elemental affinities, and hence would find using elemental techniques inefficient. However, upper-class etherblade arts were a hybrid of elementalism and the application of magic power.

Valter's ability to teleport was an aetherblade art as well. Vianna's ability to do something similar was also an aetherblade art.

What Alfered used to launch a blade of magic power and propel himself forward at great speeds were aetherblade arts too. Although they were so basic they could only be loosely considered as such, that didn't change the fact that they were still aetherblade arts.

'That's kinda unfair. I wanna learn some arts too...!'

Reivan decided to pester the hell out of Valter to teach him after his dance lessons.

"He's the worst~"

"Die."

Reivan awkwardly cleared his throat. With a wry grin, he sent a side glance to the source of the curses.

Maliya and Jeyna both scowled at him, holding blocks of ice to their bloody faces.

"Ah~ My forehead hurts so much! What are you gonna do if I become even stupider~?"

"Tsk. Did you really have to go for our faces, huh?"

'How is this my fault...? I was already having a hard time fighting all three of you! I obviously had no leeway!'

Reivan pursed his lips, holding back the words in his heart. Compared to him — who only had a slightly reddened nose from Alfered's punch — the two girls were much worse off, so Reivan thought their anger was valid. Still, he internally wished they knew how much he'd held back in that fight. On top of sealing his special and racial abilities, he didn't use the mana augmentation he'd been focusing on improving for the past two years.

He didn't even use elementalism except for that one time!

"You did great." Helen, who had walked up to Reivan at some point, patted his shoulder in approval. She looked up, a smug smile on her face as she gazed at the injured girls.

Maliya's frown deepened and Jeyna scoffed before turning away in annoyance.

"Ahaha. Don't mind them." Alfered chimed in from the side while remaining on the ground, squatting. "They'll get over it. We get roughed up often so we're used to it."

"Uh, yeah..."

Reivan scratched his cheek, inspecting the injuries he'd inflicted on the good-natured youth — who had the worst injuries out of all three squires.

After getting socked in the face, Reivan made quick work of Alfered. His much higher stats meant that Alfered had a large gap to close in order to inflict significant damage with his bare hands. Furthermore, Reivan was so used to getting hit by massive chunks of ice, he didn't even recoil at the squire's comparatively soft fist.

Right after recovering, Reivan walloped Alfered in the face with more force than he would normally use, causing the squire's face to have a big red spot right in the middle where the nose used to be.

But that wasn't all.

'His legs look like burnt steak...'

Only after Donovan declared his victory did Reivan notice that Alfered's calves and shins had burst from the usage of the aetherblade art. Blood continued to drip out of wounds that were spread out like a tree's roots. The skin of everything below the knees was charred black as they released faint blue smoke.

It was apparent that Alfered had forced the activation of the art, causing his legs to suffer as a result.

'Does he have to cut them off or something...?'

Reivan briefly reflected on his past life, recalling the harsh reality where people had to amputate limbs that were severely burned or frostbitten.

Despite his dark thoughts, the squire seemed convinced that he'd be okay.

"Oh, this?" Alfered chuckled after noticing Reivan's gaze. "Don't worry. This isn't the first time it happened. I'll be fine! Oh, but I'll probably get scolded by Sir Malrik though..."

"You don't have to wait since I'll do it in his stead, boy."

Alfered's smile vanished, replaced by a look of horror as he hesitantly turned his head.

There, behind him, stood Donovan. With a wrinkled face only a mother could love, the old man's brows creased as he gripped the top of Alfered's head.

"Ah!"

"The raw blade of mana was one thing since it isn't even considered an official aetherblade art. But using Burst Step? Did your instructor not tell you that you are forbidden from using aetherblade arts without proper preparation and precautions? That you risk suffering permanent damage? Or did you just not listen? Hm?"

"I listened, I listened, sir!" Alfered cried out, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and beads of sweat soaking his forehead.

"Then what the hell was that?"

"Th-that..."

"Speak. Quickly."

"I-I just wanted to win! I wanted to win really badly, sir! I'm sorry I broke the rules! I knew I'd blow up my feet! But losing sucks so much! Ack, my head! Please let go!"

Donovan let go of the boy's head and scoffed. "Such determination is admirable and is something to be rewarded. However, you still broke the rules. As such, after your recovery, you must run a single lap around the capital as punishment."

"Th-the capital's walls...?"

"Need I repeat myself?"

Alfered's shoulders slumped. "No, sir..."

'Damn. The capital's freaking huge. Won't it take him a few days to do a lap...?'

Reivan watched the scene with schadenfreude, inwardly hoping that Donovan ran out of steam before reaching him.

Unfortunately, it seemed the old bastard still had plenty of venom left in him.

"And you." Donovan stood right in front of Reivan, his lined face twisted into a grimace.

"Yes, sir!" The prince straightened his back and saluted.

"Don't think I didn't notice how you let your guard down after the reckless imbecile's weapon broke."

"Uh..."

'I have nothing to say to that...'

After all, he had let his guard down.

"Always remember." Donovan tapped the middle of Reivan's forehead. "A knight does not break when their weapon breaks — a knight only breaks if the knight breaks. The fight is never over until oblivion claims your soul. A knight who never surrenders is unbreakable, just like the weapon they wield."

Reivan nodded, mulling over the words. "Yes, sir. I'll remember."

"As you should." The old knight nodded before turning toward the rest of the children. "Now that that's over with, it's time for the rest of you to get your bodies moving. Exhibition time is over."

At Donovan's words, one of the squires tilted her head. "Eh? But I thought we were supposed to watch all three of them fight. We wanna spar with Ms.Helen too!"

A round of loud agreement followed the girl's words. It was obvious that the vast majority was looking forward to the prospect of exchanging pointers with Helen.

"Fools." Donovan sneered, momentarily sending a glance toward the confused genius. "Ignorance is truly bliss. Do as I say and form pairs with people you don't know. Now!"

With the old man threateningly waving a fist at them, the rest of the squires said nothing more and scurried off to fulfill his orders.

'Oh. I guess his blood is still red after all.'

Reivan nodded in satisfaction at his instructor's surprising act of kindness.

"Hm?" Helen frowned. She tapped Reivan on the shoulder and asked, "Why can't I fight too?"

"Are you crazy? If you want to spar, just be quiet. I'll spar with you later. Don't hurt these poor children..."

Reivan scolded Helen while pulling her away from the innocent squires, reuniting with Hector.

#####

Two ascended knights suddenly appeared, and on Donovan's orders, carted off the three squires Reivan mutilated to who-knew-where. Presumably, to one of Sormon's temples.

On the other hand, Reivan and the twins were made to watch the other squires spar with each other from the side. Hector watched with a bored expression and Helen half-heartedly sat on the ground while zoning out and chewing gum, but Reivan was growing more amazed over time.

All of the squires fought at a surprisingly high level of expertise. This actually became more apparent to him when viewed from the side, and with so many of them fighting.

The spars weren't the amateurish stick-bashing he'd expected out of twelve-year-olds. Nor were they boring staring contests where they carefully watched the other's movements to capitalize on openings. There were practically no feint fiestas too.

Each and every move they made was made with lethal intentions. And no one stayed back to wait for a perfect opportunity to counter-attack, everybody rushed to make the first move.

It sounded overly aggressive and crude once described in that way, but Reivan only saw refined movements. And even though attacking seemed to be the main focus, the squires showed that they were highly proficient in parrying and evasive maneuvers as well.

Additionally, by looking at them from afar, Reivan finally realized the identity of the strange gazes he received from the squires.

Fighting Spirit.

The moment Donovan said that he and the twins received special training, every knight cadet looked at them like how a gamer looks at a rare monster while grinding.

Quite frankly, they were a bit scary.

'I can't believe I was fighting three at once...'

If it weren't for his superior physical abilities and some other advantages, he would stand absolutely no chance against any of these kids. His technique and basic skills couldn't compare at all.

But Reivan wasn't discouraged in the slightest.

"Hey, Van. I'm hungry."

Reivan gave the glutton a fried chicken leg and went back to watching the numerous youths spar with each other.

#####

After the joint training session with the knights was over, Reivan said goodbye to the twins and was brought back to their usual training room.

"So?" Donovan stood in the middle of the central platform, surrounded by an indoor lake. "What did you think?"

Reivan ruminated on the abstract question, debating how to word his answer. He looked up with a strange look on his face and stared at his teacher. "Aren't they a little crazy, sir?"

"Elaborate."

"Like, they're kinda... Uh, too enthusiastic about fighting people, no? Even when their opponent's stronger."

Donovan's eyes closed as he nodded. "It's a result of their mental training."

"Mental training, huh...?"

'Isn't it kinda like brainwashing, then?'

Seemingly seeing through his thoughts, Donovan sighed. "I'm aware it looks a bit... sinister. But it's not as if we're forcing them to be knights. They can quit at any time. And in reality, some do."

"I suppose so..."

"Knights face many stressful situations, often life-threatening. And reaching the heights required by their profession demands that they have... strong minds. And to achieve that, we must start molding their minds from an early age since that is when they develop the most."

Reivan stayed silent, listening to the old knight's excuses.

'I understand, but really...'

Donovan continued. "Perhaps our way of doing things seem predatory and manipulative. However, do take note that I have gone through the same thing. And if I went back in time, I would gladly do so again. Many feel this way, even after they come to know."

Feeling slightly convinced, Reivan heaved a sigh. "I understand, sir. Thank you for explaining."

"Bah." The old knight turned around. "You still seem unconvinced, so let me just say this. Those squires are given a hard time even before they undergo mental training. It's to make the flimsy ones quit. Those that stay, are the ones who truly want to become knights — the ones that truly want to serve this nation. And we want those kids to live as long as possible."

Reivan smiled. "Yes, sir."

"Now, that wasn't really the conversation I was looking for, but I'm glad we got that out of the way. What do you think about the squire's capabilities?"

'If that was the question you wanted to be answered, why didn't you just speak more clearly, you bastard.'

The prince thought for a bit, before giving his honest reply. "There's a lot I can learn from them."

"Good."

Donovan's wrinkled face twisted into a satisfied smile. A training sword appeared in his hand, and he threw it at Reivan.

"Now we're getting somewhere."

Arc#3 Chapter 39: Channeling Your Inner Raid Boss is Hard

Reivan didn't know what to do, and he also knew that asking Donovan again would get him scolded in front of all these people. Asking Helen wasn't a good idea either, since the hairless bastard could obviously hear him even from this distance.

'Did he ask me a question or did he tell me to do something...?'

Luckily, his very dependable friend came to his rescue.

"Hey, Van! You're up! Good luck!" Hector hopped over the heads of the other squires again and waltzed back to Reivan and Helen — not knowing that he'd just saved Reivan from a bit of a pickle. "I don't think I need to tell you, but don't forget that you gotta hit 'em with the pointy end! Heh."

"I'll remember." Reivan shrugged and gave his savior a high-five when they passed each other on his way to the ring. He also leaped over the knights easily, but unlike Hector, Reivan was aware that this was an opportunity to look cool.

With a light flourish, a wooden practice sword appeared in his grasp. He stabbed it into the dirt and rested his hands on the pommel, a calm smile on his face as he awaited his challenger.

'This feels great.'

Even though he had reclusive tendencies and sentiments, Reivan, just like any other guy, had an inherent desire to show off.

And he was stroking that desire like no tomorrow.

He even held off on using a shield since fighting with just a single sword looked cooler!

Boys were looking at him with bright eyes full of admiration, while girls were looking at him with infatuation. Being a bunch of twelve-year-olds, Reivan didn't entertain any untoward ideas toward the girls nor did he have any interest in their immature bodies, but it still felt great to be liked and admired by people!

'This is why some celebrities and athletes get so arrogant...'

Donovan chose this moment to pour cold water on Reivan's head.

"Malrik's squires. You three come up and try to take down Van."

Reivan's smile froze. His neck creaked as he looked up at the nasty old man. "Uh, did I hear that correctly, sir? I thought you said three..."

"Is there a problem?"

"Ah, well. It's not a problem per se..."

"Then get ready."

"B-but..."

"Get. Ready."

The young prince's shoulders slumped a little. "Yes, sir..."

With their hesitant steps crunching the sand beneath their feet, three squires made their way into the ring after getting their respective training weapons.

"Uh, I'm Alfered. I'm pretty sure you already heard, but for formality's sake, I'm one of Sir Malrik's squires." A handsome youth with light brown hair and green eyes stepped forward and bowed. "Let's have a good fight. I don't really like ganging up on someone but... Uh, you understand, right...?"

Reivan chuckled wryly as he noted the two swords the boy wielded — a long one and a short one. "Yeah, I don't really blame you for this. Let's fight well."

Alfered smiled and grinned. "Sure thing. Go easy on us, eh?"

"Hello~! I'm Maliya. Alfered's cousin!" A charming girl with a friendly smile and a head of short blonde hair waved at Reivan. Her cheerful voice spoke in drawn-out sentences. "You look cool~! Wanna hang out later~?"

"Don't just casually try to invite him somewhere..." Another girl sighed as she chided her fellow squire. Her long red hair was tied in a high ponytail, revealing her soft and pretty features. She also smiled at Reivan and bowed her head. "I'm Jeyna. It's nice to meet you. You don't have to pay attention to what this girl says... although if you actually do want to hang out after this, it's not like that would be unwelcome..."

"Ah! Jeyna~! you're doing it too!" Maliya teased.

"Oh, shush."

Reivan's expression faltered under the two spear-wielding girls' stares, inwardly wondering if he was talking to adult women who'd reincarnated into the bodies of young girls.

'Am I a late-bloomer or are these twelve-year-olds just too mature for their age...?'

"Van. Hurry up."

"Uh." Reivan's shoulders jumped as he heard a familiar girlish voice from behind him. Despite being spoken so softly and from so far away, he somehow heard it loud and clear. He hastily cleared his throat and pulled his sword out of the ground. "Let's get this over with..."

"Fine by me!" Alfered nodded before sending a glance toward his teammates, making it apparent to Reivan who their leader was.

The three squires got into stances as they slowly moved to surround him. The friendly looks on their faces had all but vanished, replaced by solemn expressions.

'Now, how should I do this...?'

He could've easily dealt with all three of them if he was allowed to use advanced magic power application or his Soul Armament's reinforcement ability. But Reivan knew he wasn't allowed to do it this time. Donovan hadn't said anything, but there was a tacit understanding between them — or so Reivan assumed.

And so, he only had his Might stat of ninety-eight to deal with three people that all had thirty-nine Might.

'It sounds easy, but Hector's fight showed me that these guys shouldn't be underestimated. Well, nothing to it. I guess I'll just hope that all that training and doping counts for something.'

Reivan idly twirled the wooden sword in his hand while eyeing the three — who'd just finished their encirclement.

"Hah!"

Alfered made the first move. With a loud exhale, he rushed forward with a sharp look in his eyes. Once in range, he surprisingly threw the shorter of his two swords.

Reivan effortlessly swatted it away, swiftly sidestepping to evade Maliya's spear thrust from behind. Just as he prepared to retaliate, he had to duck quickly.

The blade of Jeyna's spear sliced through where his head had just been, sending chills down his spine.

Spotting a vulnerable moment in Jeyna's defense, Reivan aimed to deliver a decisive strike, but he had to stop himself, moving to block Alfered's oncoming sword instead. Their wooden blades collided with a dull clack, but Reivan's sword barely got pushed back despite Alfered's efforts. With a grunt, the prince in disguise sent a kick toward the squire's exposed stomach.

"Woah!" Alfered exclaimed, having barely retreated in time to watch Reivan's foot stop inches away from his gut.

"Don't forget about me~!"

Maliya sent a sweep aimed at Reivan's legs, forcing him to powerfully leap back. Hoping to catch a break to regain his bearings, Reivan tried to create even more distance and make it difficult for them to encircle him again.

But even then, it was difficult.

'Damn, I can't get a break...!'

Before he could wind up for a counter-attack, someone was on him already. He couldn't even stop Alfered from picking up the short sword he'd thrown earlier and throwing it at him again. Furthermore, it seemed that his opponents were minimizing direct confrontations due to his overwhelming strength. If he ever tried to rush forward and quickly take one of them out, he'd leave himself exposed since they all stayed close enough to help each other out.

On top of all that, he had to keep moving to prevent them from encircling him again.

'Their teamwork is nuts...'

Still, he didn't panic.

Reivan swung his sword upward, swatting away Alfered's sword with such force that it almost flew out of the boy's hand. Seeing an opening, Reivan recklessly lunged forward and slammed his shoulder into Alfered's stomach, sending the boy back by three steps.

Despite essentially disabling one opponent for a while, his move placed him in danger.

"You're done!" Maliya cried out in glee before bringing her spear down on the back of Reivan's head.

Reivan quickly stepped forward again, letting the spear brush past his back while also taking note of Jeyna, who was waiting for a chance to strike him from the side.

And strike she did.

'Got you.'

With Alfered temporarily down and Maliya having just finished a strike, Jeyna was essentially all by herself.

For a second, the 3 versus 1 had become a 1 versus 1.

With a smirk on his face, Reivan threw his sword at the lunging Jeyna.

"Wha—!" Being too invested in her lunge to stop, Jeyna could do nothing as Reivan's wooden sword got acquainted with her nose. The force of the blow forced her head back, almost breaking her neck. With a light thud, she slumped to the ground clutching at her bloody face.

Even with one of the girls down, the fight wasn't over yet. Reivan turned toward Maliya just in time to see that she had quickly recovered from her missed chop.

With a big step forward, Maliya swung her spear upward, aiming straight for Reivan's family jewels.

'The fuck!?'

The hairs on Reivan's nape bristled as goosebumps filled his body. With more urgency than anything he'd done in a while, Reivan also took a step toward the short-haired spearwoman. His hand fearlessly reached down to meet with the polearm's shaft.

'Got ya, bitch!'

Just as he'd done with Hector countless times, Reivan's grip tightened like a vice on his enemy's weapon. And with strength that surpassed most of modern earth's strongest men, Reivan pulled.

"Wah!" Maliya cried out as her body was suddenly jolted forward. She'd seemingly received intensive training to prevent her from dropping her weapon accidentally, but that worked against her in this situation.

'Let's see whose head is harder!'

Reivan ruthlessly used his forehead as a club to strike the incoming girl in the noggin. The collision made Reivan's vision darken for a brief moment, but with a shake of his head to free himself of dizziness, he prepared to use the spear he'd "borrowed" from Maliya to take out the last opponent.

With two swords in hand, Alfered charged at Reivan with resolute eyes.

Or so Reivan thought.

"Take this!"

Alfered stopped just outside of the spear's range and slashed out fiercely with the long sword in his right hand. To most, it would appear as if he'd just tried to attack empty air or judged the distance wrongly...

'What the fuck...!?'

Reivan's eyes widened at the blade of sharpened mana flying at him. Throwing away thoughts of holding back, Reivan jumped back as a burst of cold air gushed out of his left palm, colliding with the near-invisible energy.

A sharp hiss filled the air as Alfered's energy attack was frozen midflight before shattering into a shower of crushed ice.

'Shit!'

Having dealt with the sudden supernatural attack, Reivan now had to address the issue named Alfered. Luckily, he managed to create some distance.

"Raaaaah!" Alfered charged at him like a boy possessed, recklessly entering the range of Reivan's spear.

Not one to let the opportunity pass, the veins on Reivan's right arm bulged as he slashed down with tremendous force.

Most likely finding the strike too fast to dodge, Alfered raised up both of his swords to block.

But that was a big mistake.

The sound of splintering wood rang out while the pieces of Alfered's swords flew through the air. Although Reivan's strike was slowed enough to enable the squire to evade, it had come at a great sacrifice.

'I've won. Heh.'

With his opponent weaponless, Reivan naturally thought the battle was over. Any time now, he would likely hear the squire's chuckle and admittance of defeat.

"Graaah!" With a fierce glint in his eyes, Alfered's feet exploded with a burst of blue magic power, propelling him forward and closing the distance in the blink of an eye.

'Eh?'

Reivan watched in slow motion as the squire flew threw the air, his hand pulled back in preparation for a full-force punch. He instinctively wished to activate his mana augmentation or his [Beast Gate], but the feeling of the bald bastard's gaze made him stop.

'Fuck. I have to let this happen, don't I...'

Reivan barely raised his arms in defense before a fist collided with his face.

Arc#3 Chapter 38: Sparring with the Squires

(Author's Note: Hehe. I have 10 Patrons now. Thank you, you beautiful people. I'll keep on trying to increase the advanced chapters so you can get more bang for your buck. Dunno when I'll succeed though...)

#####

Eventually, Donovan finished going through every single one of the boys that had gawked at the sight of the very pretty Helen — and even a few girls who'd waved at Reivan and Hector. Before his victims' tears dried under the heat of the sun, Donovan stood in front of the group of young children imposingly.

"Attention."

No one dared to look anywhere but into Donovan's cruel grey eyes. One could even taste the fear and anxiety in the air.

"I know that you are all very much aware of who I am. And as much as I'd like not to, I know who all of you are as well. In excruciating detail."

Right from the start, Donovan's words were laced with venom. But all the children had no choice but to listen to his droll tirade.

"However, that cannot be said for everybody present. Chances are, this is the first time you've seen the vast majority of faces here."

'So I got it right. They don't know each other...'

Reivan held back a smirk of satisfaction at deducing the fact, even though it was ultimately an insignificant piece of information.

Donovan's hawk-like eyes scanned the gathering of children before continuing. "For your information, a group of knight cadets generally start off by training under an active-duty knight to develop basic knowledge and discipline. Once the squires grow to a satisfactory level, the good seeds are gathered and trained together in a single group."

There was a visible stir at the old knight's words. The news had inevitably made many of the children's faces brighten.

After all, didn't he mean that they were all good seeds?

Unfortunately, they'd counted their chickens before the eggs hatched.

"That's not the case this time though." Donovan casually pulverized the cadets' already shattered spirits. "It's just that sometimes, it's good for squires to broaden their horizons and interact with other squires that trained under different knights. It is similar to how you would often receive guidance from other knights aside from your assigned instructors. A breath of fresh air can go a long way, so to speak."

'So that's how it is...'

Reivan listened in interest. As someone who received guidance from multiple teachers frequently in the safety of the palace, this was all fascinating to him.

'It'd be great if I could train with other people aside from Helen and Hector too...'

Donovan continued, "On that note, we have three special guests here today. Although they are the same age as you, these three surpass you in certain fields. As such, they were trained differently from you all."

"Eh?" Reivan's eyes widened as the scenery in front of his eyes changed. He suddenly found himself standing in before hundreds of kids, right next to Donovan. The one saving grace was that he found himself together with the twins.

"Huh?" Hector's brows furrowed, confused at the situation. "Weren't we just there...?"

Ignoring their confusion, Donovan started pointing them out and introducing them to everyone. "These two with dark eyes are twins, with the boy's name being Hector and the girl's name being Helen. I'm sure the boys have become somewhat familiar with the latter. Now, as for the one that's not wearing a training robe... his name is Van."

Reivan was once again bathed in the gazes of the children. Some looked at him with interest, some with confusion... and some looked at him with sentiments he couldn't really parse.

In any case, his current situation was somewhat uncomfortable.

"Now, we'll start things off with a spar. Form up!" Donovan announced before he directed all of the children to assemble into a circle around the middle of the training grounds.

Reivan and the twins naturally moved to follow the nasty old man's orders but were stopped.

"You three stay where you are," Donovan said throwing them a pointed glance.

And so they stayed where they were, outside the circle.

#####

Once the other children finished sitting down, forming a ring around the middle of the training ground, Donovan — who was now floating above the makeshift fighting ring — gestured at Hector to step forward.

"You're up first, boy."

"Me...?"

"Need I repeat myself?"

"N-no, sir..." Hector's shoulders slumped as he stepped forward. But his eyes widened as he remembered something. "What about weapons, sir...?"

Donovan's brows creased as he dismissively waved the boy off. "You can pick one out from the rack. Or you can use what you have inside your ring. Decide quickly."

"Okay, sir..."

With a light flourish of his right hand, a wooden spear as long as he was tall appeared in Hector's grasp. There was a bundle of cloth wrapped around the "speartip", and Hector gave it a few pulls here and there to make sure it was secure. Afterward, while heaving a sigh of resignation, Hector made his way over to the ring.

Some of the squires tried to get up and give way for him to get into the middle of the ring, but it was pointless.

"Hup!" Hector easily jumped over the heads of the sitting knight cadets. With a casual brush of his clothes, he surveyed his surroundings, uncertainty etched on his face. He rested his spear on his shoulder, with a crease in his brows. "Now what...?"

Donovan also scanned the surrounding children before speaking. "Who wants to try sparring with this boy?"

'Why even ask that...?'

What little experience Reivan had with school in his past life told him that kids hated volunteering for things — especially if they were first. And in this particular instance, it was a fight against someone that your teacher outright said was better than you.

Naturally, Reivan expected to hear crickets after Donovan's question.

"Me! I'll do it!"

"No, I raised my hand first!"

"It should be me!"

"I'm also a spear user, so I should obviously go first!"

Reivan's jaw slackened a little at the sight of numerous hands flying into the air.

'The hell...? Was everybody in my elementary school just a bunch of lazy bums?'

Contrary to his thoughts, there were numerous volunteers. A cursory glance told Reivan that about seventy percent had their hand raised. And even those who didn't, looked like they gave up because they couldn't raise their hand fast enough.

'The hell are these guys...? Are they masochists? All of them!?'

"Eh? So many..." Hector stood there, dazed at all the volunteers. He looked up at the old knight, his expression unconfident. "Uhm, sir? I don't have to fight all of them, do I...?"

Donovan ignored the boy's question and looked at a tall young man with blonde hair and a face full of freckles. "Spots. You're up."

"Yes, sir!" The youth bolted up and rushed to take a spear from one of the weapon racks. Once he'd obtained one that suited his size, he ran back to the ring.

"Good luck, Brett!"

"Be careful! Don't mess up like last time!"

"Hey, Brett! Don't forget to hit 'im with the pointy end!"

'Oh, so his name isn't Spots...'

The freckled blonde boy — Brett, apparently — smirked at his friends' cheers and jeers, stepping up to face Hector in single combat. He dipped his head with a smile. "My name's Brett. Squire to Sir Balkhand. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"I'm Hector Mer— Uh, never mind..." Hector stopped himself, then also bowed with a strained smile. "Anyway, I'm not anybody's squire. Please treat me well too."

Brett raised an eyebrow and seemed like he had questions to ask. But he eventually shrugged, then settled into a steady stance, his speartip facing forward. "Let's have a good fight!"

"Uh...sure." Hector also started to get into a stance. "It's just a spar though, so take it easy, okay...?"

"Hah!"

Hector didn't even get to finish his words before he had to move his head sideways to evade Brett's spear thrust. With tremendous force, he also countered with a strike of his own.

Unfortunately, Brett had already begun his retreat and Hector's speartip barely grazed the freckled boy's stomach.

"You fight dirty, huh!" Hector remarked with a smirk. "Just the way I like it!"

With fluid and practiced movements, Hector scooped up some sand with his foot and sent it flying toward his opponent's face.

Brett stepped back and closed his eyes just in time to avoid getting sand sprayed into his eye sockets. With a sweep of his arm, his spear slashed sideways in an attempt to preemptively deflect a strike he couldn't see.

The squire had performed all of those acts in one fluid motion. It was too bad that it had been the wrong choice.

By the time Brett was able to open his eyes again, Hector was in a different stance — one where the arm holding his spear was pulled back like a bow ready to fire.

Hector hadn't gone for a strike; he'd prepared for a spear throw.

"No!" Brett's face paled as he saw his inevitable loss. His footwork had been messed up, so he couldn't evade to the side even if he wanted to.

He could only accept his fate.

Fwoosh!

The next moment, Hector's spear pierced through the air and landed on Brett's stomach.

"Agh!" Brett cried out in pain as his body was thrown backward from the impact. With a wheeze, his lungs desperately cried out for the air that had been forced out of them.

"Enough." Donovan's voice cut through the crowd's excited muttering. "The pretty boy wins."

With that announcement, the rest of the children let out oohs and ahhs, expressing their admiration for the easy victory.

"I'm not a pretty boy..." Hector muttered while scratching his cheek, failing to hide the grin on his face.

It was obvious that he liked the attention.

#####

'Hmm... The gap in their might is almost double, but it didn't really have much of an effect...'

Reivan rubbed his chin while reflecting on the fight he'd just witnessed.

Brett the freckled blonde boy was slightly better than most of the squires since he had thirty-eight Might. However, Hector had sixty-four. And yet, the fight didn't seem all that one-sided.

'Well, I guess there weren't a lot of chances for Hector to use his superior physical abilities...'

Thinking about it carefully, there were no opportunities for Hector to leverage his superior physical prowess to overpower his opponent.

'Wait a minute, did that Brett guy start the fight off that way intentionally...?'

The match had started with Hector getting caught off guard. As for the exchange that followed afterward, it had gone in Brett's favor since he'd almost struck Hector while retreating at the perfect time to evade the stronger boy's counter.

As for the next, it was composed of one of Hector's favorite moves; scooping up dirt and chucking it at the opponent's face. Hector had done it so frequently, that his skill in throwing things with his foot had eventually evolved into a work of art.

If the opponent merely closed their eyes or turned their head to avoid getting sand in their eyes, Hector would pounce forward for a downward strike. And if they retreated, Hector would simply get into a stance to throw his spear at the hapless foe — something incredibly hard to deal with since stepping backward positioned a person's feet in a way that made moving sideways extremely difficult.

If they tried to force it and move sideways right after stepping back, the most common result was tripping and falling to the ground.

At that point, Hector's victory was assured.

Reivan himself had fallen for it on numerous occasions before he figured out a counter; he simply had to move forward and a bit to the side. After all, even If he got hit by Hector's downward strike, it wouldn't matter if only the shaft made contact. Alternatively, as long as he dodged the incoming spear throw — a feat that Reivan's excellent dynamic vision made easy — Hector would have lost his weapon through his own actions.

Basically, Reivan just had to exploit the spear's inherent weakness of being terrible at extremely close range.

'For the spear throw... Losing his weapon won't be a problem once he has a Soul Armament. So I'll have to think of another solution in the future...'

He could, of course, just swat the projectile away with [Formless Will] or force a dodge with his augmented physical abilities. He could also simply tank the hit with his fraudulent healing capability.

But since it was a spar, using his special abilities somehow felt like cheating. If he kept depending on them even when sparring, he'd never improve his basic techniques and skills. This was why he kept on limiting himself.

Of course, the fact that Donovan ordered him to do that was also a very small factor in why he always did it.

"Hm?" Reivan was broken out of his thoughts when Helen lightly tapped his shoulder. He looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "What is it? Are you hungry?"

The girl pointed at the man in the sky. "He's calling you."

"Who...?" Reivan followed her gaze and saw that the old bastard was looking at him. However, he hadn't heard his name getting called — he hadn't heard anything.

'Fuck. I really need to stop zoning out...'

Arc#3 Chapter 37: A Different Kind of Growth

(Author's Note: I only just realized that the line breaks don't get carried over to Patreon either. Will definitely address this in future chapters. Sorry if there have been any inconveniences before this.)

#####

"So get this..." Hector excitedly told his tale. "Hayam recently started letting me ride him!"

"Seriously...?" Reivan's eyes went wide at the news. His own husky wasn't big enough for riding yet, and whenever Reivan tried to mount Fuyu, the beast would run off. Hearing that Hector's pup was big enough to mount was a big surprise.

Especially since Hayam and Reivan's Fuyu were brothers.

'I don't think I'm doing anything that differently... or is it just because Hector visits his husky more often?'

Fuyu was even more of an antisocial mutt than him, so Reivan had done what it wanted and only visited every few days. Hayam, on the other hand, would've lived with Hector at House Mercer's manor if it didn't have to stay in frigid climates most of the time.

Pop!

Reivan looked to the side, where Helen was zoning out while leaning on a tree and chewing gum. It was apparently a measure to keep her mouth busy so she didn't stuff it with food when she was bored.

Seemingly having noticed his gaze, Helen tilted her head and held out her hand. "Want some gum?"

"Nah. I'm good." Reivan waved her off with a smile.

The twins' arrival was a welcome surprise. This way, Reivan didn't have to wait alone until whatever it was they were waiting for arrived — which ended up not being that long.

"Attention." Donovan's sharp voice suddenly broke through everyone's chatter, directly snaking into their minds. "Gather in the middle."

'I guess it's starting...'

Reivan pushed off from the tree he was resting his weight on and gave the twins a look. "Let's go. You don't wanna keep that guy waiting, believe me."

"Is he really that bad...?" Hector raised a brow as he moved to follow. "He seems nice, no?"

The prince almost tripped. He looked back and gazed at his friend like he'd never seen anyone so stupid before. "Get your eyes checked at a Sormon Temple after this, alright?"

"They're perfectly fine, though?"

"Believe me, they're not."

Hector rolled his eyes and strode forward, leaving them behind. And Reivan couldn't help but look at the boy as if he was a dead man.

"I'll stay quiet." Helen suddenly spoke from beside Reivan. "My gut says to do as you say."

'At least this one's gonna be fine...'

"Good girl." Reivan smiled and gave the top of Helen's head two soft pats. The girl had just undergone a growth spurt, however, so it was a bit awkward since he had to be on the tips of his toes.

Helen said nothing, but Reivan could tell from her expressionless face that she was pleased.

#####

Donovan frequently made his impatience known by scowling with his arms crossed, but eventually, all of the children arranged themselves to form neat rows — with the taller kids standing further back. Of course, they also took liberties to stay close to their friends.

'Well, this is better for me too.'

Reivan benefited from this, so he didn't have anything to say about it. He tried to copy how everyone else stood and aligned his spot with theirs. But then he noticed something.

'We're getting stared at...'

Despite the tense situation, a few of the kids kept staring at Reivan and the twins — in particular, plenty of boys were sending furtive glances toward Helen, even if they had to frequently turn back.

'Heh. How's that? Our Helen is really pretty, huh?'

Reivan couldn't help but curl his lips in pride. Somehow, seeing a bunch of kids gawking at his friend felt good. He had no doubt that the expressionless girl became the first crush of numerous young boys in the training ground.

'I understand you guys, but it's not a very good idea to make it too obvious...'

From the looks of it, Helen didn't care about being stared at — or rather, Reivan wasn't sure if she noticed the nature of the stares at all.

The problem was the ascendant standing in the air in front of them.

"Care to share what's so interesting behind you, Cadet Dromen?" Donovan's cold voice sent chills up the spine of every child on the training grounds, even if they weren't at fault. "You even dare to ignore this old one just to take a look."

The child named Dromen — just one of the many boys who kept swiveling back to glance at Helen — hastily shook his head in denial. The young knight aspirant's face was covered with sweat, and Reivan doubted it was caused by the blazing sun above them.

"I-it was nothing, sir."

"Oh? So I'm less interesting to you than nothing?"

"Th-that's not what I meant, sir!" Dromen's face paled as his eyes shook in dread.

"Then what did you mean, Cadet Dromen?"

"I..."

"Yes...?"

The boy's gaze danced around, most likely searching for inspiration. But the old knight's glare acted as an indomitable pressure that caused the boy's mind to only draw blanks.

After a few seconds, Donovan landed on the ground right in front of the boy, bent over, and brought his face so close to the frozen cadet that their noses were practically touching.

"Your mother would be so disappointed if she knew you were just as horrible at chasing skirts as you are at swinging your sword."

Dromen trembled excessively as sweat continued to drip down his face.

Still looking at the boy, Donovan straightened up before saying, "Drop down and give me two hundred push-ups."

Despite the punishment, Dromen somehow looked relieved to be released from the interrogation. He saluted. "Yes, sir!"

Ignoring the boy, Donovan strolled toward his next target — another young lad who had been doing something similar to the first.

"How is your brother?" Donovan asked, his tone not sounding particularly angry.

The boy looked down to avoid the instructor's gaze before stuttering out a reply. "M-m-my brother, sir...? Wh-which one do you mean...?"

"The one who got stabbed by a woman he was playing around with."

The boy's lips pursed at the old man's biting words.

"I suppose you wouldn't want to follow in his footsteps?"

Shaking his head, the boy replied. "No, sir..."

Donovan's eyes narrowed as a sneer crossed his face. "Then get down and do twenty laps of crab walking around the training ground. Train your legs so you can at least run away, unlike your brother."

"Pfft."

After failing to stifle a giggle, a short youth with ginger hair cupped his hands against his mouth in horror.

But it was far too late.

"And what's so funny, hm?" Donovan was in front of the boy within the blink of an eye, his eyes narrowed. "Do I look like a clown to you, Cadet Nilo?"

The boy hastily shook his head. "N-no sir..."

"Then tell everyone me why you were laughing." The old instructor glowered. "Or rather, why don't you tell everyone what was stealing your attention earlier? Maybe you were looking at a pretty girl behind you?"

"Th-that's... uh..."

"Oh, you were?" Donovan looked honestly surprised. "I'm hurt. Am I not pretty enough for you, Cadet Nilo? Tell me."

Nilo quickly wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. "N-no, sir."

"No? So you think I look ugly, is that it?"

"N-n-n-no, Your Majesty!" the boy sputtered out of nervousness.

"Your Majesty...?" Donovan cocked a brow. "Do I look like I sleep in the same bed as the queen to you...?"

"N-n-no, sir!"

"I don't?"

Nilo's eyes welled up with tears, seemingly not knowing what else to say. He would be committing a grave sin if he admitted to either, but what loyalty he possessed meant he couldn't intentionally slander the names of royalty — even if it meant offending a disaster like Donovan.

"Two hundred squats. Now."

"Y-Yes, sir! Thank you so much, sir!"

With relief on his face, Nilo rushed to do the old man's instructions.

Just like that, Donovan made his rounds to mentally destroy numerous boys' psyches. He spent no more than fifteen seconds on each one, but the end result was almost always the same — the boy would accept their punishment with either surrender or relief at being freed from the old man's tongue.

'God, it's hot...'

Reivan didn't care much about what was happening, however. He was too busy complaining in his head as he wiped away the sweat forming on his face. Although he could regulate his temperature with quick use of his icy powers, Donovan would obviously sense that. And Reivan preferred the idea of sweating like a pig more than getting berated by that bald bastard in front of all these future knights.

Unfortunately for Reivan, Donovan had him in sight from the start.

As Reivan continued to get cooked under the sun, he suddenly noticed Donovan strolling toward him.

'No. Please don't come over here...'

The prince cursed the guy in front of him — the stranger had been one of the boys who'd been swiveling their head back to look at Helen.

'Because of you, he might just come after me for the hell of it!'

Reivan wouldn't put it past the old man. The bald bastard would definitely do something like that.

And he was right.

Donovan — after handling the offender standing in front of the prince — turned toward Reivan.

"What do we have here...?"

"Nothing, sir." Reivan immediately answered, his expression neutral.

"So you mean to say that you're nothing, Cadet Van?" Donovan smirked.

'Fuck you. I'm innocent! Why are you coming after me...!?'

But Reivan knew that excuse would never fly. So he nodded. "Yes, sir. I am nothing, sir. I am nobody, sir. But I came here to become somebody that can become something useful for Aizen, sir."

'How's that? Bastard, just try to turn that against me!'

It seemed that it had worked since Donovan's brows furrowed for a fraction of a second. "You're quite eloquent. Why not be a scholar instead?"

"I am determined to excel in the martial arts and become a knight as proud and valiant as you, sir!"

Donovan scoffed before he turned away. "Enough. Your bootlicking makes my skin crawl..."

'Heh.'

Reivan pumped a fist inside his head. All of his interactions with the snarky old man had finally borne fruit. Now, he could make Donovan give up on berating him one out of ten times!

It was a different kind of growth, but Reivan felt proud of his accomplishment.

'The bald bastard didn't handle compliments well.'

Reivan accidentally discovered this fact when he tried to bootlick Donovan into easing up on his punishments. Although the old man didn't give in to his requests, at the very least, the argument didn't escalate and the old man left without another word — as if running away.

'This cute bastard.'

It was a surprising fact about the grouchy knight. But because Reivan cared about his own well-being a lot, he wouldn't be telling anybody else any time soon.

The fact that he got away without punishment seemed to amaze all the children in the training ground, especially the ones who were still trying to complete theirs. They all looked at him with a hint of admiration.

'Heh. This doesn't feel bad at all...'

Reivan basked in their gazes until he noticed that Donovan was glaring Helen down. He felt his blood pressure drop significantly.

'Just stay quiet!'

He wished he had telepathy to remind the girl without anyone noticing.

But it didn't seem like he needed to.

"Hmm..." Donovan's narrowed eyes bore into the pretty girl as he said nothing.

"..." On her part, Helen's dark eyes merely stared straight into the old man's grey ones, saying nothing and doing nothing. Her expression was like a void. Blank, calm, and serene — as if nothing in this world could sway her emotions.

Eventually, Donovan turned away from her. He stalked off to prey on yet another boy who'd gawked at Helen earlier.

'What the hell just happened...?'

Reivan obviously didn't want Helen to get berated by the old bastard. But at the same time, he was quite curious about how Donovan would approach the task of bringing Helen down a peg. He didn't expect him to just leave like that.

It was somewhat disappointing, in a strange sense.

On the other hand, Hector was sentenced to three hundred sit-ups because he'd been sending glances at a pretty girl behind them.

Arc#3 Chapter 36: A Change in Routine

(Author's Note: As usual, I don't trust Patreon's scheduling function, so I will release today's advanced chapter early, while I head off to bed. Good night.

Oh, and a Happy Mother's Day to your mothers. Or to you, if you're a mother — although I highly doubt that one of my Patrons is a mother...)

#####

"We'll be doing something different for today."

Reivan's somewhat monotonous days as Aizen's second prince were shattered by just a few words from his teacher — the one with the least amount of hair.

"Uhm, what exactly are we going to do, sir?" Reivan looked up from the floor while massaging his left shoulder. Today, he'd almost gotten his entire left arm torn off by an ice boulder's charge.

Donovan's droll voice echoed within the underground training room. "I usually leave you to handle all of your other duties after morning training, but today, you'll be coming along to join the squires."

"Oh...?" The prince raised a brow in surprise. He didn't train with others too often. At most, he'd wrestled and sparred with the twins, but he lacked the opportunity to do it with other children.

The reason was obvious though. Reivan had too many abilities, which gave him too much of an advantage against his peers. Hector and Helen were somewhat fine though, since they were quite excellent in their own ways.

Another reason is that he was royalty. He assumed that it wouldn't make for a pretty picture if the knights saw him getting turned into a donut by Donovan all the time. Privacy was a good tool to protect his reputation.

'But why are we doing this now...?'

The old bastard, seemingly having seen straight through his thoughts, explained. "It'll be a good experience. You can broaden your horizons by comparing yourself to others in your age group."

"Yes, sir." Reivan nodded before shakily standing up.

'It's not like I have a choice. You don't look like you'd take a NO for an answer...'

It was a good thing that Minister Polino had grown enamored with work after the fat bonus Reivan chucked at him, so there likely wouldn't be a problem in his office. All of the ministers who usually worked there had also come back from their leaves, so there was even less of a need for concern.

There was only one problem...

"What about the morning court session?"

Donovan shrugged. "There just needs to be a member of the royal family present in those kinds of things. The white kitten will go in your stead. She's not royalty by blood, but it'll do."

"But sir..." Reivan frowned as he scratched the back of his head. "She's only eleven years old."

"You're twelve. There's not much of a difference."

'...Touche. Good luck, my dear little sister from another mother. I hope those old guys treat you well.'

He was pretty sure they would, though. Jiji was impossibly adorable, so they likely wouldn't shout too much in her presence.

"Your father has also approved of this. And the girl herself seemed eager to attend."

"Oh. Well, I guess it's fine then."

With that out of the way, Reivan felt a little better about figuratively throwing his sister to the wolves. He now had the entire morning and a bit of the afternoon off.

Donovan domineeringly declared. "Let us go."

"Yes, sir."

Reivan's vision blurred as he was dragged through the air.

#####

It didn't take long for them to arrive at their destination — a training ground.

Upon arrival, Donovan wasted no time in telling him to don the disguise he wore whenever he went out as "Van" and basically told him to "fuck off" in a polite yet gruff kind of way.

That's why Reivan found a nice and quiet corner to keep to himself, all the while observing his surroundings.

"Yep, this is a training ground, alright..." Reivan commented to himself, unable to think of a better way to describe his surroundings.

The training grounds had a ground of compacted soil, racks of blunt practice swords stationed to the side, and a few benches here and there. Despite the weather being mild in Aizen, the blazing sun was still able to warm the open area considerably. And every so often, a pleasant breeze would blow past, pushing some of the hot air towards the walls — the walls that could be vaguely seen past the trees surrounding the sandy training ground. There were also tall towers in what Reivan assumed to be the cardinal directions.

Describing his surroundings in his head didn't help Reivan figure out where he was, though.

'Where the hell am I...?'

Since Donovan dragged him here too fast for his eyes to see, Reivan couldn't trace the path he'd traveled. He was pretty sure he wasn't in the palace, though. Having lived there for most of his second life, it would be too much of an embarrassment if he hadn't noticed such a wide-open space within the palace's walls.

'It's probably still within the capital though.'

The Sword Star's mountain looked way too close to be that far away from the capital. Although the mountain's size messed with Reivan's sense of distance sometimes, Reivan was still willing to bet that he was still inside the city.

"Guess I'll wait..." Reivan shrugged before trudging over to one of the benches. But on his way, he realized something.

'It's so fucking hot...'

Ever since he could remember, he loved the cold and hated the heat. This fact hadn't changed despite his reincarnation. Naturally, sitting down under the sun was a really bad choice, unless he wanted to get soaked in sweat.

And so, he hauled ass toward the trees, seeking refuge in the shade they provided and wiping a trace of sweat from his forehead. Not wanting to mess up his clothes, Reivan chose to lean on a tree's trunk instead of sitting on the dirt.

"Now what..." Reivan scanned his surroundings with a bored expression. "That old bastard... Couldn't he have just brought me here when something was already happening...?"

His shoulder still ached a little from getting almost torn apart in their previous training session too. A few dozen minutes of rest would've been greatly appreciated.

While thinking of ways to kill time, Reivan suddenly noticed movement on the other side of the field.

"Hmm...?" Reivan craned his neck and narrowed his eyes a bit, observing the newcomers.

It was a group of five children, four of which were boys while one of them was a girl. All of them were wearing some sort of uniform that looked surprisingly similar to the ones actors wore in kung fu movies.

'Uh... What were they called again...? I know what a cheongsam is since anime girls wear it during fan service episodes, but I keep forgetting what the other one was called...'

Reivan's face twisted into a grimace as he dug around in his chest of nerdy knowledge. Eventually, his eyes lit up.

'Changshan! They're called changshan!'

The changshan that the kids wore flowed elegantly down to their ankles. Its predominantly white fabric was accented with blue trimmings on the edges and sleeve cuffs, adding a touch of color to the ensemble. Not to be missed was the collar, which was high and straight, adorned with a golden wolf symbol. As for the uniform's sleeves, they were wide and airy — presumably to allow for ease of movement during combat.

And underneath their changshans, Reivan could make out black pants and boots.

'Squires...'

Even if Donovan hadn't mentioned it, the symbols on the children's collars were a dead giveaway that they weren't ordinary children.

'Their uniforms sure look cool. I want one too...'

The one he'd been wearing was perfectly fine too, but Reivan lik

Unit's Statistics

Name: Julan
Species: Human
Realm: Mortal
Age: 12
Sex: Male

Might: 34

Special Abilities
[None]

Extra Skills
[None]

Elemental Affinities
[None]

Favor(To Reivan Aizenwald): (Loyalty / Awe / Curiosity) 63 / 100

Threat Level: N/A

'Well, I guess this makes them stronger than most adults...?'

Reivan couldn't help but feel a bit underwhelmed though.

'Am I the weird one here...?'

He didn't expect them to be at the same level as him, who had multiple special abilities and unlimited access to resources. But at the same time, he expected more out of them.

Reivan shook his head free of such thoughts. Just the fact that a bunch of twelve-year-olds had higher overall physical capabilities than adults was an amazing enough fact in and of itself.

'Besides, maybe they're not all at this level...?'

He took a look at a few more children's status screens with [Supreme Insight], but he couldn't find anyone with a significant difference from the first one he'd looked at. The highest he saw had thirty-nine Might, while the lowest one had thirty.

'Hah. This is bad. I'm letting my arrogance get to me...'

Even if he was significantly stronger than these children, they had most likely learned things he hadn't. As such, Reivan put away his conceited thoughts and chose to simply observe how the kids acted.

'Hm...?'

As he surveyed the others in the training grounds, Reivan suddenly noticed something strange.

'Was I wrong...?'

Initially, he'd thought that everybody else here trained with each other regularly and that he was the newcomer. But seeing the groups of kids curiously eyeing other groups made it apparent to him that they were strangers to each other as well.

'Well, that makes me feel a bit better. But I'm the only one who came here alone so...'

Luckily, his loneliness wouldn't last too long.

"Reiv— Uh, I mean Van...? Is that you?"

Reivan's eyes widened at the familiar voice. He turned around, and after seeing the person he expected, broke into a smile.

"Hector! You're here?" he took hurried steps forward and closed the distance with his best friend. "And with Helen, too."

Naturally, he didn't miss the pretty black-haired girl standing a step behind Hector. He mentally noted how they were also wearing changshans, and reinforced his desire for one as well.

Helen nodded. "It's been a while."

"A while...?" Reivan chuckled. "Didn't we see each other last week?"

"That's what I would call "a while"." the girl's lips curled into a small smile. Seemingly realizing something, her head tilted slightly to the side as she asked, "Why are you here?"

"My teacher made me come."

"Your teacher...?" Hector raised a brow. "The one without hair?"

'Pfft.'

Reivan barely held back a snicker as he put on a serious expression. "Don't let him hear you say that. Also, try to keep the back talk to a minimum, alright?"

The confusion on Hector's face deepened as he frowned. "Why are you talking like we're gonna meet him?"

"Uh, because you most likely will?" The prince in disguise drolly retorted before shrugging. "Anyway, you've been warned. I've fulfilled my obligations as your friend."

"What about me?" Helen suddenly chimed in.

Reivan looked the pretty little girl up and down before shrugging again. "I think you'll be fine. You're not as much of a brat as your brother, so just try to stay quiet unless he asks you something."

The girl nodded. "I'll do that."

"Hey, who're you calling a brat, huh?" Hector draped his arm around Reivan's shoulders and pulled him into a headlock — which Reivan easily slipped out of in a manner of seconds.

'He's gotten stronger too.'

Reivan couldn't help but notice how much more effort it took to escape from Hector's headlocks than usual. As such, in the name of watching over his friend's growth, he used [Supreme Insight] again.

Unit's Statistics

Name: Hector Mercer
Species: Human
Realm: Mortal
Age: 12
Sex: Male

Might: 64

Special Abilities
[Persistent Perseverance]
[Underwhelm]

Extra Skills
[None]

Elemental Affinities
[Wind]

Favor: (Trust / Brotherhood) 96 / 100

Threat Level: N/A (This unit's favor is too high)

'Yep, this is the kind of stuff I'd expected from all the squires here. And Hector went up three points in one week...? Wow.'

Reivan was sure Hector wasn't undergoing doping like him. So the boy's growth was a pleasant surprise.

'I almost want him to tell me his secrets.'

Since he'd looked at one twin, Reivan thought that he might as well take a look at the other one.

Unit's Statistics

Name: Helen Mercer
Species: Human
Realm: Mortal
Age: 12
Sex: Female

Might: 321

Special Abilities
[Peerless Perfection]
[Overwhelm]

Extra Skills
[Limit Break]
[Qi: Unleashed]
[Keen Intuition]

Elemental Affinities
[Lightning]
[Wind]

Favor: (Trust / Friendship / Attachment) 89 / 100

Threat Level: N/A (This unit's favor is too high)

'...Monstrous.'

Absolutely monstrous.

Reivan knew that unlocking one's qi made a huge difference in the growth of one's might — and even provided a huge increase in Might directly upon unlocking — but he still thought Helen's growth was a bit too fast.

'Donovan's a real piece of shit for bringing this monster here.'

The biggest villain for today was definitely that bald bastard. If the other kids knew just how wide the gap between them and Helen was, wouldn't they fall into despair and hopelessness? Wouldn't some of them give up on their knightly aspirations?

'Hell, even I'm feeling slightly demoralized...'

Of course, he was happy that his friend was doing splendidly. But at the same time, he was also working hard. Every night he soaked his bed with sweat and blood because of those disgusting things he injected into his body.

And yet here was Helen, the genius.

Reivan sighed to himself. He knew that Helen also trained hard, but perhaps it was human nature to inherently assume that they worked harder than everyone else around them.

'Bad habits...'

It was a good thing he noticed this right away, so he could work on removing it. No benefit could be gained from such envy.

'But still...'

Reivan's fists clenched without his knowing. He felt the competitiveness within him burn with a vengeance.

'I have to keep up with her.'

No.

'I have to surpass her.'

Surpass the genius.

Reivan smiled. He wouldn't forget this particular goal any time soon.

Arc#3 Interlude: Meanwhile, Elsewhere... (2)

(Author's Note: Uh, the chapter that I posted early, was supposed to be the advanced chapter for Sunday, May 7. But when I really thought about it, I intended to post the two interludes at basically the same time, so doesn't that mean I should also post these two interludes at the same time in Patreon too...?

So yeah. Here you go. Enjoy...?

Also, I've lost trust in Patreon's scheduling function, so I'll post this here even though the chapter on RR/SH isn't up yet.)

#####

It was foggy.

And it was also very creepy.

There were monsters too.

That was the extent of Vianna's thoughts about her surroundings. It was a relatively simple opinion of the Outlands, but most would agree that it was an apt description.

"Are you sure the distress signal was truly activated?" Vianna turned her head to the side, gazing at an armored female knight. "They're not dead yet? Even though they're this far away from the portal...?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And you're certain that they'd gone missing months ago?"

The knight nodded. "We're quite certain. Lately, there have been strange rifts that lead to other places somewhere in these lands. Perhaps one of our people accidentally got caught in one and got transported to a place that was too far away for the tracking amulets to work. Then they had to carefully make their way back bit by bit... and they only just arrived somewhere in range. And that's why the distress signal came from this far away... although these are just my theories."

The queen shrugged. "What else do we have to go off of? It'll do for now. As usual, make sure to have your trackers turned on so we don't lose each other in this blasted fog. And don't fly."

""Yes, Your Majesty.""

Vianna spared a glance at the thirty-something ascendants she'd brought with her on this rescue mission. It wouldn't be the first time they'd worked together, so she was certain that they knew what they were doing. Her warnings weren't actually warnings, as they were just a means to alert them that she would be giving out more specific orders.

'They're all good girls, just a bit too... weird.'

She hadn't intentionally made it that way, but somehow, every single one of the knights on her current squad was female. Also, all of them seemed to like her a little too much for some reason. They'd always be the first to volunteer as an entourage whenever she went into the Outlands. They acted so servile and affectionate to her, that she unconsciously spoke to them as if they were younger than her — even though every single one of these women was at least two hundred years older.

Still, they were nice and capable. Vianna liked working with them.

Actually, there were a lot more than just the ones here. But the others had all coincidentally been sent somewhere else or had other important duties they couldn't abandon.

'Maybe I should just put them all in one knight order that directly answers to me...? Rodin will likely agree if I ask.'

Internally deciding to do that after they make it back home, Vianna cleared her throat before giving out more orders. "Spread out and search for signs of our little wayward explorer. If she's dead, it would be nice to have a corpse to bring back. And if she's alive, stuff a pill down her throat. Once she's secured, we get the hell out of here as fast as we can."

""Yes! Your Majesty!""

"Stop shouting."

""Yes, Your Majesty...""

"Good, now get going, girls."

With that out of the way, Vianna waved them off and started her own search.

'Now, where should I start...'

There were already thirty knights combing through the area. For safety reasons, they couldn't go too far from each other, which considerably limited their searching capability. After all, it would be foolish to risk the lives of all the rescuers for a person they weren't even sure was still alive.

'I guess I'll try to sniff her out.'

In these accursed lands, where even an Ascendant's sight was hindered, Vianna had an edge over her human subordinates. As a warbeast, she naturally had superior senses than the others here.

'It'll be hard because of the smell, though...'

After taking one sniff of the surrounding air, Vianna's nose wrinkled in disgust. She clenched her fist, trying to endure the wretched scent filling her lungs.  For the poor knight who was either dead or very close to being dead, she had to endure.

Fortunately for her, she wouldn't have to continue doing it for long. Since another knight had found something.

After receiving the signal, Vianna and the others rushed toward the location to find a hole in the ground. The knight who'd sent the signal had probably proceeded inside.

'Fool. You should've waited until after everyone else arrived...'

She would just have to admonish the foolish girl later. Though Vianna understood that she was likely just worried about the possible survivor.

"Did the rest of you have any trouble?" Vianna swept her gaze across the other girls.

The knights looked toward shared gazes before a representative spoke for the whole. "We did not meet with any difficulties, Your Highness. In fact, we didn't encounter anything."

Vianna clicked her tongue as a foreboding feeling started blooming at the back of her mind.

On their journey here, they also met very few nightmare spawns. At first, they chalked it up to good fortune. But the good luck continued for three days.

There was no such thing as being that fortunate.

And with the current situation, even Vianna could figure it out.

'We were lured here...'

Whoever or whatever it was that planned all this, Vianna didn't know. She also didn't have the time or patience to try to find out.

So in the end, she decided to continue the rescue mission. In any case, they were in too deep to back out now.

"Attention." Vianna walked right up to the edge of the hole before voicing her orders. "If something happens, leave us and run as fast as you can. I still have one of the old man's bells, so I can at least escape with the few people that are down there. Understood?"

The knights hesitated for a moment before they saluted. "Understood, Your Highness."

The queen noticed that the girls were obviously less energetic about following her orders. This made her crack a smile, but time was of the essence so she had to get this over with.

"Well, I'll be going now."

With a wave of her hand, Vianna flew down the hole. Letting gravity do its thing would take far too long, so she directly sped downwards with her innate ability to fly.

'So annoying. I wanna go home...'

After this, she resolved to pamper herself by indulging in her husband and son.

#####

It didn't take long for the queen of Aizen to reach the bottom of the hole. There wasn't a hint of light in the chasm at the very depths of the tunnel, but Vianna's senses made that fact irrelevant. With her beautiful golden eyes, she scanned the surroundings.

"Eh?"

What immediately caught her attention was that her senses could spread out much wider than when she was above. The Outlands' signature trait of hindering even an ascendent's perception was seemingly invalidated in this deep, dark cave.

"Hmm?" Vianna narrowed her eyes as she suspiciously eyed the walls and floor. Since Vianna's sharp senses were no longer hampered, she could immediately perceive everything around her. "This place..."

The walls were smoothed out and had what seemed to be drawings carved all around them. As for the floor, it wasn't uneven like pretty much every other cave in the world. And although few, Vianna could still make out what used to be furniture and a hearth.

'Did that girl do all this and bring all of these out...?'

Vianna momentarily mused about the possibility that this was all because of their little lost lamb. However, the thought died in her head just as it was born.

'These are too old...'

She couldn't possibly know the exact time frame, but judging from how old and worn out the remnants of furniture were, Vianna could guess that it had been at least a decade since these items were left here to rot.

'Then who...?'

Who left them there?

Vianna's poor head was starting to hurt. She wasn't some brainless moron, but at the same time, she was self-aware that using her brain wasn't her strong point — no matter how Donovan insisted that she must sharpen her mind.

'I'll just bring all of this information to Rodin and let him think about all the complicated things and their complicated meanings.'

That would be after she'd had her fill of her husband's affection, however.

"Your Highness!" A knight at the other end of the large cavern raised her arm and waved at Vianna before lifting an unconscious woman onto her shoulder. "I've found our stray comrade! And there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her!"

Vianna almost wanted to heave a sigh of relief but decided to steel her expression instead. They could celebrate later. The current situation was far too strange, so lingering any longer wasn't wise.

And furthermore, the back of her neck tingled.

'Something's watching us...'

If nothing else, she was very confident in her intuition.

"We're leaving." Vianna's tone brook no argument. "Now."

Sensing the queen's seriousness, the knight nodded. "Yes, Your Highness!"

With that, the two of them zoomed up the tunnel as fast as they could.

Feeling slightly worried, Vianna spared a glance at the unconscious knight. There were no visible injuries, and it didn't feel like there was something wrong with her.

'I'll ask Rein to take a look once we arrive...'

But it never hurt to be extra careful. That's what the Sword Star always told her back when she was still a reckless warmonger — which, now that she thought about it, wasn't that long ago.

The moment Vianna emerged from the tunnel, she quickly scanned her surroundings, making sure that all of the knights were present. Once she was certain, a round silver bell attached to a red string appeared in the warbeast woman's hand.

Jingle!

With a single shake of her hand, the pleasant sound of tinkling metal echoed outwards. And a fraction of the time it took for one to blink, the rescue team and their rescuee were nowhere to be seen.

Not even a trace of their scents remained.

Hey, Check it out. I made a map of Aizen

I'll eventually post it up for everyone to see, but you guys get to take a look at the first draft.

I'm also still getting used to the software, so maybe I'll improve it over time.

Anyway...

Some of you probably noticed the names of some of the city. But remember how the 1st King of Aizen was someone from another world and was also a huge nerd?

So it makes total sense that he'd name a few cities after his favorite waifus, right? Obviously.

And the only reason that every city isn't named after a waifu, is that during the 1st King's reign, they hadn't conquered everything within the wolf's jaw yet.

In any case, Aizen as it is now is not like its neighbors. Cities aren't separated by walls anymore. And buildings are sprouting up in between them...

Kinda like modern times. Borders between cities aren't very clear. Kind of. Some of the cities don't share borders with other cities. Aizen's still working on filling those places out — after they fill out the undergrounds of each city of course.

Also, don't use the size of the buildings to scale them to the ground... those are just symbols.

Wellp, that's it. I hope it looks neat. I think it does, but maybe that's just me. I made it after all. lol

If anyone wants to make their own maps, say, for DnD night...? Here's the sight that I used to produce the map above.

https://inkarnate.com 

There's a free version and a paid version. I'm a cheapskate, so I naturally used the free one. But I still managed to make such a beauty...

The paid version must be awesome. Maybe once the Patreon's bringing in enough, I'll allocate some of the funds from here to a subscription on Inkarnate so I can make even better ones.

It's not really that important to the story, but I really like maps, so...

Well anyway, that's all folks! I might update the map from time to time. This ain't its final form!

= Lire ♪ =

Arc#3 Interlude: Meanwhile, Elsewhere... (1)

(Author's Note: Here's the advance chapter that was supposed to come out on Sunday. Please accept this as an apology for messing up.)

*****

While Reivan was going through just another normal day, the other members of his family — in particular, the adults — weren't idling around and doing nothing.

"Reporting to Commander Stella"

As she sat atop a tree branch, Stella Aizenwald grimaced in thought. Her silky black hair was tied in a tight bun behind her head.

"Hmm..." she hummed in contemplation, her brows creased.

The valor and strength she'd repeatedly proven throughout all the battles she'd participated in, combined with the serious look painted over her face, gave her an atmosphere that made one fear approaching her for anything but the most important of reasons.

Without a doubt, most of the mounted knights around her must have thought she was brooding over something of immense importance — such as strategies to use in upcoming battles, the enemy's intentions, or just the fate of the nation in general.

'I want to have sex...'

She was, in fact, not thinking about anything relevant. Though, to the person herself, the topic was very significant.

'I miss my Roland. I miss Helen and Hector too. The kittens too. And even though I likely wouldn't meet Lady Vianna even if I was back at home right now, it doesn't change the fact that I miss her so much...'

Stella sighed as she massaged her temples, unintentionally making her subordinates flinch and gulp in anxiety.

'Damn it all! Who's idea was it for me to come here anyway...? It's not like we've run out of knights at my level!'

Her scowl deepened and her forehead creased. But then she remembered.

'It was me. I was the one who volunteered for this...'

Stella gnashed her teeth, angry at her past self's foolishness. It was all because of an idea she conceived from browsing part of the first king's notes. The royal family's ancestor mentioned that people had different ways of learning. Going off this, Stella thought that maybe there was a better way to improve her skills, other than poring over books and sparring in the safety of the royal capital.

And sure enough, she immediately discovered that she simply thrived in battle. It was like she was a fish that returned to the sea after somehow surviving on land for years.

Stella was convinced that she belonged on the battlefield.

'But...!'

Sure, her strength and skills had improved by leaps and bound, but was it really worth it? She had to endure her unbearable lust for an indeterminate amount of time!

'Damn!'

She clenched her fist so hard that her bones somehow creaked. With a sudden movement born out of sheer frustration, she bolted upward, directly shooting into the sky.

Stella, one of the few mortals capable of flight, stood atop a platform of hardened air and scanned their surroundings. Once she was sure that their location was secure, she spoke.

"Attention."

At her authoritative words, the ten knights spread out around her stood at attention, and even their giant dog-like mounts tensed up.

""Yes, Commander!""

"Captain, report."

"Reporting!" The knight at the front of the group urged his mount forward. His loud and baritone voice made it extremely easy for Stella — who was so high up — to hear him. "We have hunted down four imperial scout retinues on our way here, as well as discovered the location of their camp by interrogating one of the prisoners!"

"Oh? Good work. And where is this camp...?"

"It's, uh..." The captain hesitated, his unease oozing out even though his helmet covered his face. "It's this one, Commander."

"Oh..." Stella awkwardly threw a glance at the hundreds of corpses strewn around them. "I didn't know this was their main camp..."

She'd been scouting enemy lands while staying above the clouds, but she'd chanced upon a group of about five hundred soldiers. And although she'd been wary at first, after careful observation, all of them looked just like any other imperial conscript — ordinary men being forced into war by an imperial mandate.

As such, she'd swooped in and killed them all.

It was a rather simple and quick affair too; all she had to do was create a vacuum.

The hapless men, who were all weaker than a decent squire from Aizen, suddenly found that no matter how much they inhaled, no air would enter their lungs. The realization made them panic, hastening their impending demise. And the worst part — for them, not Stella — was that they couldn't even warn each other about it, since sound couldn't travel in a vacuum.

It had taken the vast majority of her magic power, but within a minute or two, Stella had enacted the soundless massacre of about five hundred men.

Despite this, she felt no pride or satisfaction. Only confusion.

'The empire can't possibly be unaware that sending a whole bunch of ordinary people is useless. I'm not the only one who can do things like this...'

There were loads of knights in Aizen who could slaughter the same amount of people in the same amount of time as Stella. The ten mounted knights in front of her couldn't do it since they were young — and much less talented than Stella — but given enough time, they would easily mow down swathes of conscripts. After all, Aizen's knights were, at a minimum, capable of Augmenting their physical abilities with magic power, reinforcing their bodies with Qi, and boosting themselves with Armament Energy from their Soul Armaments.

'So why do they keep sending so many of these people to their graves...?'

Stella had a somewhat ominous feeling, but she quickly silenced those thoughts. In any case, the conscripts were invaders, and it was Aizen's policy to defend the motherland fiercely and without an ounce of mercy. The lives of hundreds of thousands of these imperials could never compare to a single life from the kingdom's side.

As such, the number of people who came to invade would be the number of people Aizen's knights would slay — even if most of them were weak and innocent people who were forced into war.

"Commander...?"

Stella snapped out of her musings at the knight captain's hesitant voice. She cleared her throat and asked, "Good work. Were there any other problems? Injuries? And, the Sun God forbid, deaths...?"

"Ah..." The knight captain's hand caressed his stomach. "One of the scouts we encountered was possessed by an esper. We'd thought he was just like all the other conscripts and soldiers, so we're ashamed to admit that we let our guard down..."

"So... since there're still ten of you, and you all look healthy, I'm assuming everything worked out fine?"

"Yes, there were no deaths. Although I got injured from the esper's ambush, I managed to survive thanks to the second prince's grace."

Stella sighed in relief. "That's good. That's really good."

Losing a knight, no matter how weak they were, would be a terrible loss considering their primary purpose was to clean up a bunch of weaklings. Although death was unlikely, the knight would have had to beat it back to the backlines to be treated by a priest of Sormon if it weren't for Reivan's near-infinite supply of medicine.

'It's really like cheating. My brother-in-law's existence itself is cheating...'

But since it was to the benefit of her country, Stella was naturally thankful that Reivan had such fraudulent abilities. Lately, she'd even heard that the amount of medicine Reivan could produce with a single drop of his own blood had increased — which meant he didn't need to have blood sucked out of him as often.

It was a testament to the boy's growth.

'Speaking of growth... I wish I got to face the esper...'

The country and everybody else aside, Stella's main purpose in coming to the border was to temper herself through battle — so she actually welcomed formidable opponents. Of course, she didn't want to die, so Stella wouldn't want them to be too strong.

'Oh, wait a minute...'

"Where's the esper?" she asked.

"We've captured them, commander. " The knight captain threw out his chest, obviously a bit proud of himself. "The esper's vessel's eyes were carved out to prevent them from using their powers. At the moment, they're tied up and hidden somewhere."

"Good work." Stella sincerely praised.

It would have been one thing if they'd killed the esper, but these knights had captured the esper alive. It was a monumental feat, considering their collective strength wasn't too high. And they did it without any casualties too!

"I know that you're well aware of this..." Stella's expression turned somber. "Make sure Sormon's priests don't see you bringing them back, alright?"

"Yes, Commander." The knight captain nodded. "We'll make sure they're carted over to the labs unnoticed."

"As you should."

After, Stella asked a few more questions before nodding in satisfaction.

"That'll be all for now," she said. "Return to camp. Prioritize the esper's matters. Then take a day's rest."

"Yes, Commander!" The knight captain saluted while mounted. "If I may ask, what will the commander be doing now...?"

"Me...?" Stella thought about it for a moment, before answering. "I suppose I'll regroup with the vanguard force and pass by a few imperial fortresses?"

Aizen had a strict policy of maintaining their current territory's size, so no matter how much Argonia provoked them, Aizen would never overextend their reach by establishing territory beyond the wolf's jaw — the mountain range that cordoned the kingdom from the rest of the Sentorale continent.

'For now, that's the case.'

Stella and all the other knights knew that Aizen was just biding their time, waiting for its chance to conquer the entire continent in one fell swoop.

Until then, it would have to stay within its ancestral lands.

'But that doesn't mean we can't run around and cause havoc on our own.'

Stella's pink lips broke into a grin. With a final wave of goodbye to the knights below, she flew off — presumably in the direction of Aizen's vanguard.

#####

Three days later...

Ten of Argonia's fortresses fell into the hands of Aizen.

However, by the time the imperial forces had regrouped, ready to reclaim what was theirs, Aizen's knights were nowhere to be seen.

What the imperial forces found was rubble, dead trees, and lands bereft of even a single blade of grass.

It was as if the lands that the fortresses stood on had been cursed.