The following weeks saw Myrkas adapting to his—yet unprecised—magical world. While Qi was not officially deemed "magic', it definitively was—at least according to Myrkas. The boy had witnessed his uncle light up candles with a flick of his fingers, running water (thank Heavens) was helped by runic enchantments, and the fire oven was regulated by an arcane formation. Qi was used in many ways to improve and supplement life. There was so much to learn, such potential, and excitement!
Unfortunately, Myrkas' attempts to confidently determine if he was in a "known" fictive world or not did not bear fruits. His inconspicuous information gathering, under the guise of "playing" with the eight-year-old little terror otherwise known as Martine, had brought clues but no definite proof. The "lore" of the Holy Allrin Empire was eerily similar to an unfinished web novel he had read not long before his transmigration—although time was a highly variable concept in his case. If only Myrkas could remember specific names instead of descriptions.
That would be too easy, he guessed.
Nonetheless, most of the setting fit: from the mix and match of Middle Eastern and East Asian cultural components to the intimately tangled Imperial and sect politics, including the overall less disruptive attitude of cultivators towards common mortals compared to traditional cultivation stories, it all fit nicely. However, one major issue prevented Myrkas from reaching a satisfying, rock-solid conclusion. The story did not match. At all.
Usually, a transmigrator should appear either as a main character or around the main cast. Typically, one would become the villainess or the chosen hero's less talented childhood friend. Myrkas would have been fine being stuck as a worthless background character. But even a background character needed to be in the background. And Myrkas was none of the above! Far from it.
The web series in question starred a young, handsome and talented Imperial Prince. It detailed his time at war against a Northern Kingdom and the betrayal he suffered from his jealous half-brother, the Imperial Crown Prince. The first arc culminated with the princely protagonist's fall from grace, and the subsequent arcs related his journey to gain back wealth and power to accomplish his revenge.
All well and good, except the Allrin Empire was currently at peace. The last skirmishes in the southwestern territories had ended three years ago. The Great Imperial General Jinyingk had made quick work of the island nation of Nihinn, securing the Empire's sea shores.
Worse, Myrkas' current geographic location prevented any interaction with the plot. Piercing Jade Valley was in the northwestern quadrant of the roughly oval-shaped Empire, far away from any potential battlefield. While Myrkas did not know the name of the Allrin Empire's foe, he acutely recalled the deadly swamp, a cornerstone in the Betrayal, to be located at the northeastern border. As the first arc's action happened towards the end of the war, there was no way for Myrkas to predict when the war would start and end. With him being so far away, getting on location at the right time was most improbable.
To add insult to injury, the Imperial Capital, the Holy City of the Purple Sunrise, the physical location where Allrikh himself— The First Emperor—Ascended, was situated over three weeks away by caravan. Any hope Myrkas had of "accidentally" meeting the princely main character before the events of the book were crushed. The prince's residence—the Imperial Palace, obviously—was just too damn far away. Disregarding the fact that Myrkas came from a mere commoner family, the physical distance diminished the probability of any interaction between the princeling and Myrkas to near zero.
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What a shame, Myrkas thought, resigned.
He would have liked to confirm which world he was in. That way, all his memorized lore and plot events should let him gain a tremendous advantage! In his disappointment, Myrkas again almost doubted his own "protagonist status:" almost. He had transmigrated; he had to have a grand destiny awaiting him. And Myrkas did possess the most common protagonist characteristic: a tragic back story. No good fantasy story started without a good old pitiable main character. Myrkas had it all: orphaned from a tragic fire, mysterious soul damage, and a possible grand foe responsible for his family's death. He could overlook his upper-middle-class status. One did not need to be destitute to be a main character. Emotional and physical trauma had to count for something. Myrkas' story needed no prince! He was enough. There was no need for any "original" protagonist.
And so Myrkas' life went on. The question remained in the background. As his life normalized, the problem of figuring out if his new reality was based on a fictive work or not lost importance. Myrkas had gathered his bearings and lived his life, pretty carefree. He had adapted so well, the question being relegated so far down his priority list, he almost missed the irrefutable proof linking Myrkas' new universe to the mediocre harem web novel he thought he had transmigrated to.
The proof came by on accident—at least Myrkas swore the event was completely accidental. On a fateful morning, Myrkas, with his new, carefree attitude, entered Nirrina's quarters without knocking. Unfortunately—or fortunately, evidence-wise—the young woman was in the middle of dressing when the boy barged into her room.
Mortified, Myrkas froze. His twelve-year-old self had no resistance to a near-naked feminine form. As most boys his age would react to such a sight of a close female relative, his brain stopped, unsure how to compute. But not before Myrkas noticed an intricate silver chain circling Nirrina's hips.
"Myrkassa, you should have knocked," Nirrina chided him while pinching the boy's cheek, unaware of his sudden confusion.
In truth, Myrkas had not seen much. Nirrina had had loose pants on, narrowed at the ankles as was the common fashion. She had been in the process of putting on the vest-like garment she used to reign in her bosom instead of a modern underwired bra when he entered the room.
Still, the sight of Nirrina's bared back made him uncomfortable. In his boyish way, Myrkas had almost forgotten his Nirrina was a young woman under her clothes. A young woman who could be naked.
These thoughts led to feelings far away from the usual sense of peace and comfort she evoked in Myrkas. Better to steer away, he promptly decided. She was his beloved big sister. The woman part would stay hidden away and ignored. Myrkas refused to become a creepy asshole. No weird step-siblings shenanigans in any future. Something Myrkas did not understand why it had been so popular in his past life...
Proud of his—self-assessed—impressive display of emotional intelligence and maturity, Myrkas nearly missed what Nirrina said next.
"Wait outside Myrkassa, I won't be long. I only have my shirt, outer robe, and bodice left."
Dismissed, Myrkas waited by the door. Despite his masterful handling of his peri-pubertal feelings, something nagged his mind. Something shiny. He pondered, lost in thoughts for a moment until suddenly, it clicked. The last detail he needed to confirm his hypothesis of now living in a not-that-good harem web series.
"Nirrina, what's that chain you wear?"
"What, my bond? Myrkassa, don't tell me you forgot about it. Do I need to explain again? Or do you prefer we go to the temple? The priests can explain it better than I."
"No, it's okay, I remember now," Myrkas replied in shock.