The concluding leg of our journey to Maridal Village unfolded without incident, the warmth of early summer pervading the air while a refreshing coolness caressed our skin, creating an ideal atmosphere for our passage across the expansive plain. With each passing hour, distant specks on the horizon gradually coalesced into the distinct contours of a village nestled amidst the verdant fields. And to the north of this settlement, a vast white edifice loomed, a sentinel demanding attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen, behold Maridal Village!" Lana's voice rang with eager anticipation. "And see there, that grand structure is none other than Adamant Fortress, the sacred home of the Knightly Order of Adamant."

"It appears we shall have the pleasure of breaking our fast at the inn," Petr chimed in with a knowing grin. "Ah, how I've always savored the comforts of the Lordly Spoon."

My companions had grown accustomed to my perpetual state of ignorance, often preempting my inquiries with explanations. Still, the name "Lordly Spoon" struck me as oddly whimsical for an inn. Such an unconventional choice for a name, I mused quietly.

Maridal Village surpassed my initial expectations in size and organization. Most of the buildings clustered along the main thoroughfare, protected by a wooden palisade encircling the perimeter. A scattering of watchtowers adorned strategic points along the walls, standing as silent guardians against potential threats.

Curiously, though, the village gate stood wide open, with a scant presence of guards. Aware that a floating statue and Lana's enigmatic bag would surely draw unwanted attention, we decided to conceal Karyon's statue and Lana's bag amidst a cluster of bushes outside the village.

As we crossed the gate, a watchman called out to us, his voice carrying across the distance. "Petr! Is that Miss Lana I see in your company? Did you manage to free her from those bandits?"

"Nay, it was this very Archmage who came to Lana's rescue!" Petr declared proudly.

"Aye, it's true!" Lana affirmed, gratitude gleaming in her eyes.

"But wai—"

"An Archmage, you say? Well, regardless, that's quite the feat! We owe you our thanks," the watchman exclaimed, his tone filled with appreciation.

"Um...uh...you're welcome..." I stammered, caught off guard by their unreserved acknowledgment. I couldn't help but feel perplexed; shouldn't they be more cautious about an individual of dubious reputation like me?

"Leo should still be at the Lordly Spoon Inn," Petr announced, resuming his stride with purpose.

The main thoroughfare of the village lay before us, its cobblestone path resembling the one that had led us here. Horse-drawn carts and figures resembling traveling merchants bustled along the street. However, a select few merchants drew my attention. These stout individuals, bearing long beards and standing no taller than my chest, were unmistakably dwarves. Engaged in animated conversations and trading, they seamlessly blended into the town's tapestry.

"Petr," I inquired, intrigued, "why do these dwarves play such a significant role in the village's affairs?"

"Well, this village serves as the easternmost bastion of the Lumeos Concord, forming a crucial trade nexus between our people and the dwarves," Petr explained.

"Yes, my father has established numerous trade agreements with these dwarven folk," Lana added with familial pride.

"I understand, but I would prefer if you didn't draw too much attention to my humble self," I murmured, addressing Petr.

I had stumbled upon Lana through a twist of fate, and my intervention had been solely due to my magic. Truth be told, I hadn't gone through any arduous trials to protect her. A peculiar sense of undeservingness welled up within me, mingling with a subtle but undeniable embarrassment.

"I apologize for the unwanted attention," Petr said sincerely. "However..."

"Fear not, for it won't be long before the astonishing feats of the illustrious Lord Xandros become the talk of the realm!" Greg interjected with enthusiasm.

"You may say that," I interjected with reluctance, "but I—"

"Enough of your protests!" Lana snapped, her patience wearing thin. "Come closer and listen!"

Bewildered, I allowed Eryn to guide me into the shadow of a nearby building. She drew close, her face inches from mine, and spoke in a hushed but forceful tone.

"Stop with this timidity! Your 'Arcane' powers, or whatever you call your magic, possess undeniable potency. Act like it, I implore you! Your current demeanor only fuels further unease. Understand the gravity of my words."

"She's right! You're extraordinary, Mister Ember! Embrace your greatness!" Lana added, somehow squeezing herself between Eryn and me, her words filled with fervor. David and Greg watched anxiously, hesitating to intercede in Eryn's passionate lecture.

"Please, release him," Philip interjected calmly, coming to my aid as he gently separated Eryn and Lana from me. Their energies clashed in the air, and his intervention couldn't have come at a better time.

Philip, the embodiment of a serene warrior-priest, excelled at diffusing conflicts, I thought, sighing in relief. But it seemed his work was not yet done.

"Lord Xandros, you may claim insignificance, but such a proclamation carries no weight in our realm. As Eryn rightly mentioned, a hero who fails to embody heroism instills apprehension in those around him. Furthermore, and though I hesitate to say it, if you are perceived as weak, there may be those who seek to exploit you."

Philip's words carried the weight of his priestly sincerity, resonating with profound significance.

"In essence, you suggest that a grand and mighty hero instills a sense of ease, whereas an individual of extraordinary power, yet meek and unassuming, evokes the opposite reaction?" I pondered.

"Exactly," they all agreed.

Curse it all. They had a point.

Before long, we reached the Lordly Spoon Inn. Dimly lit, the spacious hall beyond the entrance combined elements of a bar and a mess hall, with round tables occupied by various individuals of different sizes and shapes. Behind the counter, a bustling woman stood, unmistakably the inn's proprietor.

"Father!" Lana exclaimed, her voice filled with affection.

"Lana?!"

Startled, Lana, who had been by my side, dashed toward a man in the hall.

"Father! Father!!!"

"Lana! Oh, how relieved I am to see you safe! So relieved!" The man, with brown hair and a resemblance to Lana, undoubtedly her father, appeared younger than expected. Yet, beneath his successful merchant veneer, he exuded a genuine emotion that shone through in his fervent embrace, tears of joy shimmering in his eyes.

"Fear not, my dear. I am unscathed, without even the faintest blemish. You have my word! I was saved before any harm could befall me!"

"Petr! I extend my deepest gratitude. Words cannot adequately express my appreciation!" Leo turned to Petr, bowing his head repeatedly, a torrent of gratitude flowing forth.

"Indeed, much has transpired," Petr replied, his voice laced with gravity.

As I observed Leo's reaction, it became clear that he held deep concern for his daughter. He appeared at least a decade younger than me, and I couldn't help but wonder – had circumstances unfolded differently, could I have become a father capable of displaying such immense devotion to his children?

"Let us seek solace and respite. How about we all take a seat and unwind?" the innkeeper suggested, her gaze upon us. Following her advice, we settled around a sturdy wooden table.

"...and that, essentially, sums up the sequence of events," Petr concluded, providing a succinct summary of the tale to Leo, who sat beside Lana.

"So, you're the one who saved Lana?" Leo turned toward me, his eyes moist with gratitude. "Thank you, Grand Weaver—uh, I mean—thank you, great and mighty Archmage!"

While Petr's explanation lacked intricate details, it was evident that my magical abilities defied the conventional understanding of weaving prevalent in Dravus. Nevertheless, Leo believed Petr's account without reservation. Over the years, Petr had amassed a wealth of trust as an experienced adventurer.

"D-don't trouble yourself with gratitude. I merely acted as any other mage would..." My voice faltered, silenced by the menacing glare from Eryn. Despite my lingering hesitance in accepting such profound appreciation, given our recent discourse, I endeavored to project a more heroic demeanor.

"At any rate," I asserted, infusing my words with an added measure of force and authority, "I am grateful that justice has prevailed!" Speaking in such a manner did not come naturally to me.

I glanced at Eryn. Though her expression did not entirely reveal satisfaction, it did suggest that I had at least earned a temporary reprieve.

Subsequently, the time came to distribute rewards for the adventurers' efforts. Petr graciously declined, retaining only the initial payment. Instead, he proposed that the reward be bestowed upon me. I attempted to refuse as well, yet Leo implored me incessantly until, ultimately, I acquiesced and accepted the three thousand gold coins.

"By the way," I interjected, curiosity piqued, "could you provide some insight into the value of three thousand gold coins in this region?"

"In broad terms, a single gold coin would suffice to feed a family of four the finest cuisine available for a day," Petr explained.

"Three thousand gold coins could secure a dwelling in Vindaris," Lana added, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "A spacious abode, conducive to a comfortable life for two individuals! Perhaps my father could facilitate introductions on your behalf."

"Intriguing..."

Based on the information gleaned from them and a few others, I deduced that one gold coin held an approximate value of ninety US dollars. However, in a medieval realm like Dravus, where currency did not permeate the entire economy, making a direct comparison proved akin to comparing apples to oranges. It seemed that farmers and hunters largely conducted their lives without the need for any form of currency.

Yet, even with these considerations, my payment amounted to a rough equivalent of over two hundred thousand dollars.

"By the heavens, that's quite the sum!" I exclaimed.

Over two hundred thousand dollars... It eclipsed the entirety of my savings back home.

"Do you think so? While it is certainly above average, it is not an exorbitant amount. We venture our lives for this work," Petr remarked.

"Hmm..."

When seen from that perspective, I pondered. Three thousand gold coins divided among five individuals equates to six hundred each. When evaluated as compensation for perilous undertakings, it becomes challenging to assert that it is excessive. Perhaps it is misguided to assess the amount solely through the lens of a game or modern America.

"That being said," Leo interjected, "I do not have the payment on my person. Could you retrieve it in Vindaris at a later date? Naturally, I will provide you with a promissory note for the full sum, but please accept this in the meantime."

Leo produced a leather bag overflowing with one hundred gold coins, extending it toward me. I wasn't lacking in funds; according to Ember's character sheet, I possessed over three million gold coins, along with the rest of my inventory. However, refusing would only sour our nascent relationship. Hence, with gratitude, I accepted the bag of coins.

To ensure there would be no complications, I reached into my robe and withdrew one of the gold T&T coins I possessed, displaying it to Leo. Although its design differed from his own, he assured me that the composition of precious metals was identical. Therefore, using these coins in Dravus should pose no issue, though certain vendors might require time to assess their authenticity.

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Once our discussion reached a conclusion, we settled into a more relaxed state, savoring the tea provided by the innkeeper. However, it wasn't long before Lana broke the silence, her voice brimming with curiosity.

"Mister Ember, there's something I'd like to ask you."

With that, she reminded me of her father's belongings that remained at the bandits' hideout, requesting my aid in retrieving them. After all, I had conjured the hideout atop a cliff, rendering it inaccessible without my assistance.

"Now, Lana, we can't burden Lord Xandros any more than we already have," Leo interjected.

"B-but..." Lana's disappointment was palpable.

"In my homeland, we have a saying," I interposed. "'With great power, comes great responsibility.' Once everything here is taken care of, I will assist you."

"Are you certain?" Leo inquired, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Thank you, Mister Ember!" Lana exclaimed, her spirits instantly lifted.

I gazed at them both and nodded resolutely. "Yes, I am certain," I affirmed, addressing Leo. "However, as I mentioned, there are a few matters I must attend to first."

"We also have a request for Lord Xandros's aid," Petr added.

We still had the fiends' nest to eradicate. Great power had been bestowed upon me, and with it came a solemn duty to protect.

"I am willing to wait, but do not forget about us! Our situation will turn dire if we fail to recover those goods," Lana pleaded with a hint of desperation.

Despite decimating their vanguard, I knew the Fiends could regroup and launch another assault. Petr and the others held a private meeting with the village leader to warn him of the impending threat. Years of trust had solidified the bond between Petr and the mayor, who promised to prepare for an evacuation if necessary.

Plans were set in motion for David, Greg, Vanessa, and Philip to accompany Leo and Lana on their return to Vindaris, ensuring their safety amidst the escalating danger.

A sense of relief washed over me as I realized I had achieved my initial objective.

"Now, may we continue our previous discussion?" Petr inquired, eager to move forward.

"Um... Yes, indeed... I mean, uh... Please proceed," I stumbled over my words, endeavoring to project an air of gravity. Petr, Eryn, and I had convened in a secluded chamber to strategize our next steps.

"Our foremost priority is to locate and eliminate the daemons' lair," Petr declared, his gaze shifting between me and Eryn. We both nodded in accord.

"I'm relieved that our objectives align," Petr acknowledged, addressing me directly. "I understand that there might be gaps in your knowledge, so allow me to elucidate my thoughts and rationale. Do not hesitate to seek clarity if you have any inquiries."

"Understood. Thank you," I responded, once again struck by Petr's eloquence. The president of my former company could have certainly benefited from his articulate communication.

"When adventurers confront fiends or come across their nesting grounds, it is customary to report such incidents to the Adamant Knights or the Vandaris City Council. Given the location of the fiends we've encountered, our typical course of action involves submitting a report to the knights."

I nodded in comprehension. So, the process entailed filing a report and entrusting the authorities to handle the situation. It sounded like a reasonable system.

"However, there are complications," Petr continued. "As I mentioned earlier, it has been over a decade since the last legion or nesting occurred in this region. Many members of the council and the knightly order do not consider eradicating fiends a significant responsibility."

"So, you're suggesting that we may not be able to secure their assistance? We witnessed an entire legion of fiends ourselves," I argued. "Surely they would recognize the gravity of the situation."

"It partly depends on whether they find our account believable," Petr replied gravely.

Eryn nodded, her expression mirroring the gravity of the situation.

"But why wouldn't they believe us...?" I trailed off, perplexed by the idea.

"We encountered a legion of fiends, and then an Archmage—a weaver of unprecedented power—coincidentally appeared and obliterated them with a barrage of meteors," Petr explained. "Do you think anyone would readily accept such a tale?"

"Ah... I see now," I admitted. I needed to internalize this truth: This was not America. It wasn't even Earth. I couldn't assume that the authorities would readily come to our aid.

From the council and the knights' standpoint, the existence of fiends remained unverified information supported by a solitary source. While evidence of the legion's presence and its mode of annihilation did exist, it existed solely in the field. The fiends had not laid waste to a village, and none of the knights had personally witnessed their existence.

"I don't allege that the knights and the council harbor complete distrust in us, but I suspect they will find our narrative implausible. Even if they opt to believe it, they may not regard the threat as significant. It is highly likely that they will postpone any decisive action," Petr concluded.

I contemplated the situation, recognizing the familiar pattern of inaction that resonated even in tales from America.

"If we were willing to invest time and present the valley's devastation to them, or await the fiends' resurgence, eventually they would have no choice but to acknowledge our veracity. However, that is not a viable course," Petr continued.

"Engaging in such a strategy would only result in further unnecessary casualties," Eryn interjected.

A thought sprang to my mind, and I articulated it aloud. "What if I were to demonstrate my abilities as a magic user capable of obliterating a legion of fiends? Do you think they would believe us then?"

Eryn responded, "It is not a path I would prefer, but I believe they would."

"To be frank, it is the only option available to us. Your actions defy logic," Petr admitted.

I began to fathom their perspective. The authorities' acceptance of our account now depended heavily on their acknowledgment of me as a magic user capable of defying conventional wisdom. However, I also realized the potential danger in revealing my powers too overtly—it could lead them to perceive me as a greater threat than the fiends themselves. The deeper meaning behind Petr and Eryn's insistence on my role as a hero began to crystallize.

"Hmm..." I mulled over their words. I had failed to fully grasp the implications of our situation. I had naively assumed that I would merely accompany them and the knights, ready with a few spells as a precaution.

Having spent two decades as a professional in America, I had encountered and navigated numerous conflicts inherent to that environment. Drawing parallels to my past experiences, I realized that this situation boiled down to matters of persona. There existed a correct manner of conduct in certain circumstances, and it was crucial to adapt to the role one played, even if it meant donning a metaphorical mask.

For many years, I had concealed my true self behind the mask of a seasoned corporate worker, presenting a facade of a genial middle-aged man with a fondness for games. Surviving in the cutthroat world of business had demanded the ability to choose the appropriate mask for each occasion. And now, faced with a new reality, I understood the significance of that masquerade.

I gazed upwards, my words directed towards the ceiling, as I contemplated this revelation. "So, that's why I've been plagued by this unsettling sense of insecurity since my arrival..."

Ever since awakening in that dreary jail cell, I had shed any pretense of a persona. However, existing without a mask meant standing on shaky ground. As an individual transported to a foreign world with unimaginable powers at my disposal, what guise should I adopt?

Lowering my gaze, I locked eyes with Petr and Eryn. Various options flickered through my mind, but I knew I could do better.

"I understand now," I declared.

"Good," Petr acknowledged.

Eryn's gaze narrowed, her scrutiny penetrating. "Are you truly certain you comprehend?"

"For the time being, I shall assume the role of a mighty and revered Archmage. Though it feels peculiar to speak these words aloud, it is an undeniable truth."

It had never been my intention to find myself in this peculiar position, I mused, yet I had willingly chosen the name Emberus Blazeus Xandros in the presence of a divine being, and thus, I must shoulder the consequences of that decision. Until the fiends' nest was located and eradicated, I would wear this mask.

"Very well," Petr affirmed. "Maintain that facade, at least for now."

"Well... I concur," Eryn voiced her agreement. "For the present, that shall suffice."

As I busied myself with preparations for my journey to the Adamant Fortress, the esteemed stronghold of the Order of the Adamant Knights, a knock resounded upon the door of my inn room.

"May I intrude upon your time?" It was Eryn.

"Of course. Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable."

She had likely come to discuss the disparities between magic and weaving, the conversation she had mentioned could potentially shake the very foundations of the Weavers' Guild...

"Could you perhaps drop the excessive formality? Your true nature is peeking through, Mister 'Great and Powerful Archmage.'"

Her words carried wisdom, prompting me to try once more. "I suppose I can spare a few moments."

"Not bad," she responded, a faint smile gracing her lips. It might have been the first time I witnessed her genuine smile.

I regarded her anew, appreciating the youthful radiance she emanated with her azure eyes and golden hair. A reflexive wariness had initially guarded me against her charms, but gradually, its grip was loosening.

"What did you wish to inquire about?" I asked.

"There are many inquiries I'd like to make, but given our time constraints, I have one particular question that I would appreciate an answer to," she said, her gaze unwavering as she locked eyes with me.

"Our lineage as weavers stretches unbroken from the establishment of the first institutions dedicated to the study of this art, over two centuries ago. Since then, weaving has been passed down and refined through tireless dedication. I, too, have invested countless years and months to reach my current standing. However, even if the entire Weavers' Guild pooled their abilities, it would pale in comparison to your magic. Hence, my question is this: Does your magic represent a power unique to you alone? Or..."

Eryn's voice faded to a hushed tone, resembling that of a child sharing a fearful rumor.

"Is it something that anyone can learn through study?"

Naturally, I couldn't divulge the truth—that I was initially conceived as a character for a game and that the foundation of my magic originated from a source book from the 1960s.

Moments slipped away in silence.

Eryn's gaze remained fixed on me, her blue eyes glistening with moisture, awaiting my response. To an outside observer, it might appear romantic, ignorant of the circumstances at hand.

What is she truly asking? I pondered. If my magic were akin to the techniques of weaving, attainable through diligent study, what implications would that hold for her? Is she questioning the worth of her tireless efforts in mastering weaving in light of my magic?

I comprehend. Such a revelation would undoubtedly plunge the Weavers' Guild into disarray. To disrupt their entire way of life would evoke such remorse within me that I would be compelled to beg for their forgiveness.

Hmm... I truly do not know.

Emberus' magic was nothing more than a fiction I had familiarized myself with from the core ruleset of T&T (Tunnels & Trolls). Yet, in this realm of Dravus, that fiction had materialized into reality. God fashioned my magic based on my notes and the T&T sourcebooks, which meticulously outlined the steps required to acquire the abilities of a Level 1 Mage. Hence, it wasn't inconceivable that if someone in Dravus were to follow those guidelines, they, too, might harness magic. However, it was equally plausible that magic was a skill bestowed solely upon me by God, and no other denizen of Dravus possessed such power. If that were to be my answer, would it bring solace to Eryn? I wondered.

However much I contemplated the matter, I knew it would be presumptuous of me to believe I could accurately fathom the inner workings of a woman's mind. Prudence dictated that I err on the side of caution.

"Are you... troubled by something?" I asked, treading carefully.

"Troubled? Perhaps I am. You run the risk of uprooting an entire world I have held faith in."

"I understand," I acknowledged. It appeared my intuition was on target. Yet, that did not alter the fact that I lacked a definitive answer. So why not simply convey that to her?

"While there are indeed learnable techniques associated with a Mage's magic, I cannot confidently ascertain whether someone else could wield that magic solely through studying said techniques. I simply do not possess that knowledge. But Eryn, I want you to comprehend that I share your apprehension. I, too, am filled with uncertainty."

"You are?" Eryn blinked, seemingly relieved by my inconclusive response. Nevertheless, she remained intrigued, desiring to hear the remainder of my thoughts.

"You mentioned that the world you have believed in may crumble away. From my perspective, your weaving is equally confounding. A weaver named Karyon nearly claimed my life with their skills..."

The latter portion of my statement was an honest reflection, not a mere attempt to placate Eryn. However, I must confess that the former portion possessed a touch of cunning. I was employing the tried-and-true strategies honed during my time in the workforce: When confronted with a question to which one cannot provide an answer, express empathy initially to preserve the trust between parties.

"You raise a valid point. This cannot be a one-sided conversation with me merely posing questions," Eryn remarked, her lips curling into a faint smile. The time had come, I thought, and I resolved to seize the moment. I posed a question that had been lingering in my mind about weaving.

"Weaving practitioners manipulate mana threads within their bodies to interact with the weave of mana that saturates the world," Eryn replied, her tone tinged with pride. "Approximately one in ten individuals are born with the ability to perceive and harness mana. Those without this inherent capacity cannot become weavers."

"I understand. So those who possess mana can also perceive mana in others," I mused.

"Indeed. That is why, with a mere glance, I can discern that you possess no mana whatsoever," Eryn affirmed, disregarding the latter part of her statement. I thought to myself that she mentioned weaving as a power hidden within nature, whereas my magic derived from arcane forces beyond the confines of nature itself, altering the very fabric of reality. The fundamental essence was inherently distinct.

"But does that imply that anyone born with mana can practice weaving?" I inquired.

"No, even if one is born with mana, without the ability to sense their Aether Strand, they cannot become a true weaver," Eryn elucidated.

Aether Strand, I contemplated. It appeared to be a phenomenon exclusive to weavers, and after a considerable exchange, she did her best to explain until I grasped its essence.

To summarize our discourse: A weaver's apprentice, through training that enhances their mana perception and control, gains the ability to perceive a luminous Strand, akin to a thick rope composed of interwoven threads. This rope, known as an Aether Strand, consists of mana fibers.

A weaver harnesses the power of weaving by manipulating the mana within their Aether Strand, rearranging the threads to weave a spell. However, among those born with mana, only a scarce one in ten possess the ability to visualize their Aether Strands, resulting in a limited number of potential weavers. According to Eryn's account, there were merely twenty weavers in all of Vandaris City.

"For instance, within my Aether Strand, there are threads that represent the quantity of available mana, along with fibers associated with elemental aspects such as fire, wind, whip, and arrow," Eryn explained. "By combining, let's say, fire and whip, and deftly manipulating the threads, I can initiate a weaving known as Ignis Pulsa."

"I find it fascinating," I replied, genuinely intrigued by the systematic nature of weaving. It possessed a remarkable resemblance to the mechanics of a game—a notion that did not elude me, the irony not lost.

"Oh, I recall something Karyon, the weaver, mentioned. Are you familiar with the Arcanists?" I inquired.

"The Arcanists... they are one of the weaver factions," Eryn confirmed.

"Weaver factions, you say?" I pondered. It appeared that the weavers of Dravus had divided into different factions, each with their distinct approach to weaving. The Arcanists focused on scholarly pursuits, delving into research to further comprehend and explore the intricacies of weaving. They were renowned for their creation of enigmatic materia. On the other hand, Eryn belonged to the Sentinels of the Veil, whose members viewed weaving primarily as a means to combat fiends.

"It seems likely that Karyon was a black weaver, universally despised by all the factions," I remarked, accompanied by a graceful shrug. Whether it pertained to weaving or any other aspect of this world, the more I discovered, the more questions arose. Nevertheless, I resolved to accept this as an integral part of the process of acquiring comprehensive knowledge.