Before the week started, I told the rest of the party to meet up in the lodge’s 2nd floor, namely the archives. It was a meeting to decide our plan for the upcoming year.

I stepped into the archives and saw the group in the far corner of the room. There, surprisingly, was Nis reading a book, along with the ever-studious Slavos. Madriel was seated across from Nis, writing on paper.

“Morning.”

“Good morning to you, Sed.” Slavos piped up, his eyes still glued to the book in front of him.

‘Principles of Curses’ was the title of the book he was reading.

“What, are you bitter than you lost to my curses?” I asked and took a seat across him. The two girls were busy, so I decided to leave them be.

“Bitter? Not at all, and do not frame it as such a negative emotion. It’s proof that we still live, after all.” He commented, flipping a page over. “No, it’s only because I found myself lacking. Curses, the ones that you employ so handily, are quite rare.” He said, his scaly finger tapping on the cover.

“It is?” That was surprising. I didn’t know that, honestly.

“To some, it is taboo knowledge, to others, it is seen as distasteful. Not many study them, or employ them, and those that do usually do it for nefarious deeds. It is a closeted arcane art. Secretive, and maybe even lost. Even the largest archive of the lodge has very little books about them.” Slavos sighed, finally his eyes left the books and he looked around the library.

So, not as many Occultists as I thought. That was disheartening .

Slavos closed his book loudly for the other two take notice. Three pairs of eyes stared at me.

“I mentioned this before, but we’re going to Crossia.”

Slavos shrugged. “The winterland Republic. I don’t care much for the place, but if that’s your decision.”

“Crossia. I haven’t been there in eons. It will be quite the surprise to see their advancements.” Madriel commented and started writing on the paper again.

Nis, upon hearing the name, started to furiously flip the pages of the book in her hands. I peered at the title. ‘Known Lands by Keffer Aldrin’. She stopped halfway through the thickness, and started pouring her attention over.

“So, no objections?”

“You’ve already secured our permits to travel. It would be uncouth of me to object now, when you had spoke of it a week prior.” Slavos wiped his monocle with a cloth as he spoke.

“And I, for one, am quite eager to see the Crossian capital once more.” Madriel commented while rolling up the piece of paper and pushing it in her sling bag.

Nis was still engrossed in the book, she seemed to be listening, at least.

I sighed. “Well, there was no real reason to start this meeting in the first place. Anyway, pack your things, we’ll leave by tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’ll secure our provisions.” Madriel stood from her seat. “Let’s meet at the town square tomorrow morning.” She said before leaving hurriedly.

Slavos nodded and stood from his as well. He gently returned the book on the shelf beside the table and pulled the sword to his back.

“We will meet tomorrow then.” He said and turned his back.

Well, I was left alone with Nis.

~ - ~

It was a brief, but eventful stay. We got our bearings, snagged two reliable companions, and learned of a few things of the new world. All in all, I’d say it was a comfortable stay.

We headed to the north gate of Blaine to travel to Crossia, but it wouldn’t be such an easy trip. For one thing, the distance to travel was quite far. The Crossian Republic started its expansion and now covers a great deal of land, stretching from the Frozen North to the temperate center of the Allgive continent.

By estimations according to Madriel, if we travel by foot, it would take us nearly 3 months to travel.

“Three months of free travel, while relaxing and thoroughly rewarding, is still a slight tax to our purses.” Madriel commented. “And besides, it would not be a proper adventure, and it would be fitting for us to take upon a quest as we move.” Proudly, she lead us to a caravansary nearby the gates.

Several carts of goods lined the central court, and several well-dressed merchants and well-equipped guards roamed the place, sometimes hawking, sometimes speaking, sometimes blankly staring at the wide sky.

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“I’ve taken a caravan request to the Crossian capital. We’ll get paid quite handsomely.” She explained with a smile.

She really is big sister material. I hope Nis can learn from her.

As I took in the sight of the game world turned to reality, Madriel stopped in the middle of our walk to a caravaneer group composed of four wagons. She bowed her head and explained to the merchant, and he immediately brought us in for the job.

It was simple. for the month of travel, we would be sticking to shifts of protecting the wagons while also dealing with the menial tasks. Apparently, it paid quite well, but honestly, I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s because of my enormous fortune that I still feel detached from all of it.

Either way, we started on our preparations.

~ ??? ~

I smashed the pick over and over and over and over. It was an eternal tedium that I’ve already accepted. I would bring over my pickaxe over my head, and swing it with labored, but measured, breaths. Each swing was a labor for the fatherland.

My father, he always told me about life. Everyone has their place, their role to achieve. Mine? It was at the deepest parts of the mine. Laboring, toiling, sweating, bleeding, and screaming. That was my fate, from start to my death.

The first thing I would always see was the rotten brown of the shack, the second was the gruel given to us to eat, the third was the cold grays of the mine with only the incandescent fires to light up the unfeeling passages.

That should been my fate, my life. That should have been where it all started, and ended.

I’m not sure if I should count my golden shines, or pray to the gods. Or hell, it may even just be a pure coincidence, but it was a windfall nonetheless.

That day, explosions rang out in the mines. Screams echoed and filled the caves. The musty scent of death lingered there. I clung to the only thing that I had of worth, the pickaxe and I hugged the cold walls.

I heard footsteps and feared for the worst. A terrible dread filled me. I thought I had accepted my fate, of dying alone in this god-forsaken mines, but it seemed I was fooling myself.

I brought up my pickaxe over my head to strike one more time, for old’s time sake, at least. I gripped the handle, the whites of my knuckles appearing so languidly. I felt my teeth shudder at the thought, and my knees buckle. Terrible fear gripped my heart, but I needed to look at it straight in the eye. Maybe it was terribly misplaced of me, but if I were to die, I at least wished that I died on my own terms. That I would die with at least a modicum of control over it.

But what appeared was not a monster as I had thought, but a person so striking to see against the monotone colors of the mines. A white coat and a shimmering spear of red. This was the person that changed my life.

My only regret is forgetting my savior’s face.

~ Sed ~

It was a week later into our escort that we finally managed to see the Crossian borders. Since we traveled using the roads, it was inevitable for us to meet them, so I could only hang my head.

The wagons lazily approached the border gates manned by several soldiers.

The border gates were haphazardly made with sandbags and wood battlements, but there were portions of the walls made of gray brick and mortar. The flag of the regiment that controlled the borders flapped with the wind.

The soldiers, unlike the guards of Blaine, were fashioned with only a thin breastplate, a steel cap, and cloth garments in the color of their regiment. In their case, it was the color of black and blue.

The most striking feature of them were their weapons. Unlike the rest of the nations, Crossia was the only superpower that currently had the industry and manpower to equip all of their soldiers with guns, even if they were incredibly primitive to the ones used by the ancient empires.

Unlike Nis’ handguns, they were equipped with long rifles with an affixed bayonet by the end of the barrel. It had a rigid and bulky frame with a slender tube. A circular barrel was inserted into the underside of the frame, with only a simple wooden stock. It looked, by all accounts, like a weapon from pre-ww1 earth.

The gates opened and were let in by the soldiers. and they all asked for our permits. They didn’t only give it a cursory glance, but actually read them and confirmed their authenticity by cross-referencing with their own documents.

They were meticulous by design when we made the world, so it seemed it stayed the same as it was in the game. What worries me, however, was the regiment itself. I’ve used Crossia as my home base since I started playing, but not once did I ever see a regiment of black and blue.

Was this another inconsistency of the translation of game to reality, or was it just ignorance in my part?

Either way, there was no answer to this. At least not yet.

I spent the time observing their outpost. Indeed, just like the rest of the Crossian soldiers, they were incredibly disciplined. Their outpost was clean and orderly, and they had already set up several buildings within. From inside, I could also that they were expanding the outpost.

Not to mention, the incredible amount of soldiers inside. They were all practicing drills with their weapons. Stabbing with the bayonet, and even practicing spear techniques while shooting.

It was only until an hour later when we were finally let go. We were given a set of documents for safe passage, and they nodded at us we left.

Thankfully, what Adantel feared didn’t happen. It seems being an escort to a merchant and having the necessary paperwork from Adantel was enough for us to enter.

Aaah, I hadn't even entered into Crossia proper but I was already satisfied. Seeing the guns, seeing the soldiers, seeing the order. All of it felt familiar.

“A lot of time has passed, and they truly have changed.” Madriel commented. “A few hundred years ago, they were still a fledgling nation with a lack of technology and innovation, but now they’ve become even more awe-inspiring.”

“You seem to like them a tad too much for an elf.” Slavos spoke, readjusting the sword on his back.

“Ah, this is what happens when closing yourself off in libraries and archives.” Madriel replied with a sour expression. “I must admit, elves are isolationist and reservist of the changing world. But I am not. To see the world with my own eyes, to see them develop after a few hundred years and experience something familiar and different at the same time, it is wonderful.” She looked back to the outpost.

“Crossia just happens to be the best at it. Their technological advances have always been a welcome sight for me. I'm a humble believer that technology is the way forward."

“Even though that very technology was what destroyed the past empires... still, I suppose that is true to an extent” Slavos sighed, a frosty breath escaped his snout. “This adventure will be a good learning experience.”

I chuckled. “Don’t worry, both of your wishes will happen as I plan to adventure all over the place. You’ll get your learning experience as we go along with Madriel’s wanderlust.”

I smiled and looked over the horizon. We were a few weeks away from my destination, a destination that might answer all my questions.