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Arc#4 Chapter 63: D-Day

Reivan woke up at the crack of dawn as usual and went down to the training hall for a quick workout even though he technically had a date coming up in a few hours.

The militant discipline ingrained in him made him uncomfortable if he skipped a day for such a relatively insignificant reason. It wasn't a valid excuse because his life wasn't on the line and he didn't have an energy-intensive task lined up today. Now, if he was meeting up with Elsa or Helen after months of being apart, he would want to save his vigor for obvious reasons, but that wasn't the case—and even then he could just restore it since he probably wouldn't have to intentionally "seal" his special abilities.

"There we go..." He grunted quietly as he fastened the weights to his body and offered a cursory nod to the Argonian Prince doing his own routine on the other side of the hall. They saw each other a lot, given they started their daily regimen at roughly the same time. As much as Reivan would have loved not to be involved with the prince at all, they already were, so he may as well try to get along to ferret out bits of info from the imperial.

Satisfied with his preparation, Reivan began his routine and left his body on auto-pilot. All the while, he thought about his plans for his date with Mira.

'Surprisingly, there's not a whole lot to do in Vel Ayala, to be honest. Though I suppose my opinion's biased because I know about Modern Earth.'

After his squad captain fled from him yesterday, Reivan took the chance to ask a few seniors he spotted in the Mess Hall shared by all battlemages. It was embarrassing, yes. But Reivan managed to accurately pick out the ones who'd actually give him a good answer.

Honestly, he just went up to the group of handsome seniors who seemed like they got laid a lot.

It involved a bit of exploitation on Reivan’s part, because anyone in the group who didn’t offer any advice at all could be doubted as someone who wasn’t knowledgeable about the subject. Naturally, that was a bit of a stretch. But logic didn’t matter much to guys when they teased friends. Reivan would go to great lengths if Hector ever dared him to do something while saying that he was gay if he refused—it was the same principle applied to the group of handsome seniors. Nobody amongst this band of strapping young lads wanted to be known as the one with the least game.

All in all, it worked.

Actually, there was no need for Reivan to play his mind games because the seniors he approached had been quite nice, and the entire affair turned into some sort of forum. The seniors themselves profited by discovering a lot of places they never knew about from the others. That said, Reivan profited the most out of any of them because he hadn’t known any of the places they spoke of. Partway through the advice, the seniors ended up regaling the others of all the girls they bedded after taking them to those date spots, citing how effective they were. It seemed Reivan truly lucked out and unknowingly approached a group of irredeemable mansluts—but that was a good thing, because these unsavory men who he would never want to marry his daughters to were just what he was looking for.

In hindsight, being such a frivolous playboy wasn't all that hard to do in Arkhan, if Reivan was being completely honest. There was a reason Arkhan's urban population density was so high, almost rivaling Aizen. He was absolutely sure there was something in the food served in cities that made all these people so damned horny all the time.

Well, he wasn’t one to talk. But he liked to think he wasn’t as frivolous as these Arkhanians.

'In any case, I guess I'll just have to do my best with what I found out.'

Reivan himself had a lot of dating experience to draw upon, but most of those dates were with Elsamina or Helen. With Jiji too, though those were more like sibling outings, to be honest. Sadly, such experiences weren't very useful, because he wasn't courting those three women. One was his sister, another already confirmed her feelings for him, and the other was his lover. In all three cases, he wasn't trying to appeal himself, rather, the point was simply to enjoy the event.

In Elsa's case, it normally ended in a dim and quiet bedroom with their naked bodies bared, having an overall fantastic time—if her praise of his skill in bed were to be believed, that is. Her words, of course, made him feel quite good about himself but he also knew that the love-rot in her brain was probably raising her opinion of said skill.

Anyway, things weren't so easy for him here. Mira was, in essence, the equivalent of a work colleague with no significant relationship binding them. She was not a sibling, a fiancee, nor a lover, and hence, had to be courted. He did not have a lot of know-how regarding that. So the only dating experiences Reivan could draw from was when he was doing his research on how Favor worked. Oh, and he supposed there was the questionably applicable knowledge from his past life sister, Kyouka.

'I don't think her advice is very helpful, but there must be something from it I can absorb.'

Reivan managed his breathing as he ran, contemplating the many stories Kyouka had told him about her love life.

Not a whole lot of people at the time knew, but his sister had been a giant lesbo. A woman who was attracted to other women. And if the World Devouring Serpent's words were to be taken seriously, it seemed his sister truly went crazy with her womanizing up until she croaked.

While he was alive, said sister had—extensively and in excruciating detail—shared her sexcapades with him. All of it. Every single instance. Even after he said he didn't really want to hear it.

If Kyouka scissored with anybody, he ended up knowing about it from the person’s mouth herself, much to his dismay.

Now, a lot of people would have interpreted her actions as boastful. But Reivan had seen it for what it truly was. His sister had simply tried, in her own misguided way, to educate him on how to bag a lady of his own. Unlike him, she actually held out hope that he'd be cured one day. That meant that he was going to have to get married at some point. And she didn't want her brother to be a maidenless bachelor forever, which was shy she incessantly told him stories of how she convinced incredibly attractive straight women into bed with her. As she was wildly successful at doing exactly that, he couldn’t even deny the authenticity of her advice.

Obviously, he hadn't gotten cured in the end. Hence the whole "dying" portion of his life story.

But as it turned out, her weird but affectionate actions weren't totally wasted because Reivan ended up reincarnating.

Unfortunately, a lot of Kyouka's advice about dating wasn't applicable here, because the world was in a completely different era and he didn't have dating apps to exploit with the combination of his inherent good looks, filters, and lies about his income. He also couldn't message multiple girls at once nor could he play the mind games involved in texting.

Furthermore, the world he was in was still in its medieval era.

A certain otherworlder who came into the scene a few thousand years ago truly went and messed up the medieval aesthetic by revealing a crapload of advanced knowledge. But for all it was worth, the world was still a "swords and magic" kind of place.

In fact, the First King’s interference probably slowed the world’s progress. Because Aizen, and by extension everyone else who tried to replicate its technology, didn’t have the necessary foundation to build upon everything. People on Modern Earth didn’t suddenly have cars, after all. There was a lot of stuff that had to be discovered to give birth to it. Like the intricacies of internal combustion, advanced metallurgy, and all that other crap that was too complicated to remember for someone who didn’t work with cars.

‘The supernatural aspects of the world and its requirement of talent probably slowed scientific development too. But anyway…’

Point being, even thousands of years after the first king dumped a whole bunch of isekai knowledge into the world, it was still, at its core, a medieval one. Just, with a bunch of out-of-place stuff here and there. Like guns or magic toilets that vaporized your shit instead of delivering it to the sewers.

In any case, a lot of amenities that were common in modern Earth weren’t present.

And that meant “dates” were extremely limited in variety.

Basically, the “atmosphere” was of vital importance. Meaning the view and whatnot. Piers, beaches, and high places overlooking the cityscape were the best, apparently. That was the skeleton of what constitutes a date, according to his seniors.

He ended up ignorantly asking where dinners came in, and it seemed that they were supposed to just eat somewhere nearby whatever viewing spot got picked. There were usually a few spots nearby, as restaurant owners primarily competed over such business locations—which, ironically, probably ruined the view when too many popped up.

‘That adds up with one of Kyouka’s advice, huh?’

Reivan’s dearly departed sister had a chauffeur and multiple cars for her to use as she pleased, but she obviously didn’t use them much when dating, because while it was a big flex, it also meant they’d have an unwanted third party around. Plus, it would expose the proclivities she was hiding from their parents.

And since she didn’t have a driver’s license of her own, she did a crapload of walking. While strolls were apparently quite nice, it was important to keep them short. As such, each “stop” was to be within a ten-minute walk, and a minimum of thirty minutes had to be spent at each stop to have sufficient time to rest—which made it sound like there were a whole lot of stops, but Kyouka kept it at three, most of the time. An activity stop, an eating stop and if things worked out, there would be a hotel stop too.

As it turned out, Kyouka usually managed to get a hotel stop. The cheeky little brat. He still remembered all the times she had proudly flashed him double peace signs while boasting about it.

In any case, Kyouka insisted on keeping the distance between each stop short. There had to be a flow. And preferably, the stroll in between spots was scenic, which would make it easier because admiring the atmosphere could fill any awkward silences that would inevitably spring up.

Such intricate date planning was easy to organize with the help of online maps, accessible with a few taps on a phone. But there were no such things in this world.

So right after soaking up all the useful information from his seniors, Reivan went out to the Lower City and scouted out the area. This ended up eating a lot of time, but following a piece of wisdom from his senior mansluts, he found a spot to rent horses for a day.

Now, knights in Aizen were no longer attached to mounted combat. But he still knew the basics, though his middling expertise mostly pertained to riding giant huskies rather than horses. Then again, how much harder could riding a horse be? They were domesticated and didn’t try to bite you if you nudged them a bit too hard, after all.

Apparently, not all that hard but it was quite different all the same. Reivan didn’t want to admit how many times he almost fell off or how his butt unexpectedly hurt from being bounced up and down the whole way. All things considered, having a horse on hand helped him scout the Lower City as much as he wanted and even gave him ideas on how to possibly spice up his date.

He had gotten back quite late at night and managed to catch a very shy Mira before she ran away to her room, reconfirming if the date was still on among some other things, like if she was allergic to anything—which was incredibly important and in hindsight, he should have asked it way earlier.

She apparently had a bad reaction to poultry, of all things. Which eliminated seventy percent of the restaurants his seniors told him about, because Arkhan had a long list of birds offered up as sacrifice to humanity’s taste buds. Reivan was quite glad that he asked, avoiding a catastrophic mistake that would have ruined the entire date.

Thanks to all of that, Reivan had a pretty good idea of what he would do. There were no good hotels around any of the places he intended to take Mira to, but then again, the likelihood of something happening was low from the start.

‘Huh. Reminds me of something else that crazy sister of mine said…’

Kyouka, as a woman with a taste for other straight women, was met with plenty of reluctance. And one thing she always told him stuck.

“My dearly beloved brother who's still a super mega virgin,” she had said, which was infuriating because it could be argued that she was a virgin too, having never done it with a man before. “When a girl says she’s not the type of girl to have sex on the first date or the second date or outside of marriage or something, all she really means is that she’s never met anyone who made her want to have sex at that stage. The trick is making them want to! And I'm good at that! Kneel before my greatness!”

After setting aside all the useless bullshit she spouted, there was basically a threshold of attraction that, once surpassed, would make them jump under the sheets with you despite her supposed perception of herself. Which was dubious information all around. But coming from someone highly successful in bagging girls who weren’t supposed to be attracted to other girls, it had quite a bit of persuasive power.

Obviously, as a man who was about to die, Reivan didn't value the information at the time. But he also had proof that it was real.

Inaria, for one thing, had been a serious and somewhat prickly girl who wouldn’t have given most men a second look. In somewhat nice terms, she was cautious in who she interacted with. More frankly, she was a snob to anyone she wasn't already close with or anyone who happened to have a penis. Yet, the people who knew her would be surprised at how she acted around him—or rather, one of his fake identities. It was honestly scary what she would agree to do as long as he asked her to.

‘Oh, right. I think it’s about time for me to meet her… There’s just not a good chance to do so, unfortunately. Maybe that's why she's been especially cranky at times...? Eh, maybe not. A woman's life doesn't revolve around their love life, so maybe she has some other problem?’

Reivan finished his regimen and started taking off the weights strapped to his limbs, putting them back where they belonged. He glanced at Prince Alfon and decided to vacate the hall quietly, opting not to disturb the man’s apparent focus. Actually, Reivan usually would have worked out more and they would have ended their regimen at roughly the same time, but he didn’t want to be too sore for his date.

A quick shower later and he was back in the common room, where the rest of the squad but Mira was suspiciously present. Which was troubling, because he’d have preferred for them not to be around to see him and Mira go out together. Aldimir wouldn’t let him hear the end of it, for one thing, and Alini had some apparent interest in him that he had no plans to entertain—not only would it be insincere to her, but it would also further complicate things with Mira.

The last thing he wanted was for the trope of the kind older woman giving way for her much more timid junior in romance. He had to draw a clear line in the sand so Mira wouldn’t have any easy outs.

“Hey, Win.” Aldim lazily waved from one of the sofas, where he was, in a rare turn of events, reading a book. A book, of all things. Sormon’s mercy, the world must be ending soon. “You’re done early.”

“I have a thing.” Reivan shrugged. “Can’t get too tired.”

“Oh?” Aldim shut the book with a smirk. “Tell me more.”

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“No.”

"Yes?"

"No."

“Eh~? Why, though? Don’t be shy. Tell Papa Aldim everything, child."

“The fuck is Papa Aldim...?” He rolled his eyes. Deciding to derail the conversation, he looked around at all the others. “Why are you all here, anyway? Was there a meeting I wasn’t told about? Are we having secret meetings, now?”

Inaria didn’t even raise her head from the grimoire she was perusing. “This is the common room. It’s not that strange for us all to be here.”

“I’m hiding here,” Kantor said in a quiet voice, as if he was scared someone other than them would hear, but didn’t elaborate further.

“Since Mr. Kip is asleep, I thought I should learn a few more spells,” Alini volunteered, turning to face him with a shy smile. “The others except Kantor had the same idea. Would you like to join us? We’re, uhm, trying to coordinate with each other so we don’t learn the same spells… It’ll give our squad more versatility.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea.” Reivan nodded with a sheepish smile. “But not today. Maybe some other time. Don’t worry, I’ll adjust what spells I learn to what you guys are studying.”

“Okay…” her shoulders drooped, but she nodded in understanding.

Reivan waved at his squadmates and headed into his room, he’d just showered down—or was it up? He still didn’t know—at the training hall’s shower rooms, but he wasn’t exactly dressed to impress. Here in Arkhan, however, the general trend made it impossible to be too fashionably elaborate, as everyone just wore white tops and dark bottoms, with the obvious thick dark coats when outside because Arkhan’s horrendous weather would suck you dry of warmth otherwise.

Nonetheless, Reivan had bought a new set of clothes last night and tried to up his appearance where he could, such as a new black suit vest—with a nifty little pocket to put his new gold pocket watch in, its chain fastened to the part near his navel. It added a fair bit of elegance to his look, if he did say so himself.

While Clover Salwyn’s countenance wasn’t especially striking, a man would go a long way by simply dressing well and making sure his facial hair was under control. On the latter note, Reivan judged that Clover looked better clean-shaven and with his ash-blonde hair slicked back.

A contrast to his real self. He really wanted to grow a bit of stubble, though the results ended up quite lacking, unfortunately. Must be from his mother's side because his father and brother could grow very nice facial hair if they wanted to, judging by how often they shaved.

Anyway, none of Reivan's new drip was cheap. But he had the relatively generous salary of a battlemage to thank for his recently crazy expenses. It was a good thing they added a bit extra to his rates because he was apparently a vice-captain. It was the only good thing about being a vice-captain though. The twenty percent was a lovely little boon considering Clover Salwyn had no real sponsors to leech off of.

“Hm.” Reivan looked at himself in the full-length mirror in his not-so-private quarters, examining a body that didn’t really belong to him. It was as good as it was going to get. He’d just have to go confidently, he supposed. That seemed to help a little as long as one wasn’t too ugly—which Clover, thankfully, was not.

One last smooth of his clothes and he put on a new black overcoat while making sure the Tower-issued belt buckle that held his weapons and his money was securely fastened. Satisfied with everything, he went back out and ignored Aldimir's catcalls and jeering, rushing to the mini teleportation platform in their common room.

Mira would know that he intended to wait on the ground floor.

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Reivan had to admit that considering his date’s character, there was a very realistic possibility that she’d completely oversleep and make him wait for hours.

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

After about ten minutes of waiting by the yawning spatial marvel of a doorway leading outside the Tower, the incessant lights of teleportation finally gave birth to a familiar person on the platform. Obviously, it was Mira, and she found him after a quick scan of her surroundings, jogging up to him with an apologetic face.

“Sorry,” she panted. “I got a bit held up because the others kept asking questions…”

“It’s fine.” Reivan smiled and flopped his wrist dismissively. “I didn’t wait that long. And you’re early, besides. Which is surprising.”

“You didn’t have to add the last part.”

He shrugged and gave her a quick once over. In typical Arkhanian fashion, she wore a white top and a thick black skirt that reached just below her knees. Both pieces in question were of exquisite quality, however, and so was her black coat with white fur on the collar.

‘Never seen her with makeup before…’

It was barely noticeable, but her complexion, which was already fair and smooth from the start, had a nice glow to it that wasn’t normally there. Her pink lips were just a bit more eye-catching today too, drawing away from her sapphire eyes. Honestly, if he wasn’t around great beauties like his mother, Stella, Helen, Elsamina, his sisters, and Gwen all the darn time, Mira would have left him mesmerized.

“You look great.” Reivan smiled as he gazed at her lovely blue eyes. “Well, you always do. But even more so today.”

“Well, yeah. That’s what makeup is for.” Mira rolled her eyes and looked away, but she couldn’t hide how the corner of her mouth teased upward. “You clean up nicely too.”

“A bath from time to time can do wonders, I gotta admit. You caught me at a good time.”

“Ew, gross. Please bathe every day!”

She giggled and he smiled, his small jest going over well. In any case, it seemed things were fine so far.

“May I escort you, my lady?” Reivan offered his arm, speaking in fake accented English, which was surprisingly hard to do because he was fluent.

“Oh, fancy. Where’d you learn that?” Mira’s eyes widened. “I mean, it could use a bit more work, but that was great.”

“I know it sucks. Stop pointing it out.”

“Well, not that I’m any better. English is weird. They have words that sound exactly the same but mean completely different things.” She shrugged, placing a hand on his offered arm after a theatrical curtsy, holding up an imaginary skirt. In equally broken and heavily accented English, she spoke quite importantly. “I love to.”

“I would love to,” he corrected.

“You’re ruining the moment," she shot back in Arkhanian. "Just shut up and escort me, vice-minion.”

Reivan shrugged and did exactly that. It seemed she was a bit reluctant to walk too closely with him, even though they’d been in much closer physical contact. A good sign, he thought. it would have been a bad one if it was accompanied by obvious anxiety on her face, but in this case, she was just being demure.

This, to him, also meant she now considered him a member of the opposite sex in the truest essence, not just a squad junior that she joked around with, cursed to remain in that role for eternity. Like a more professional version of the friend zone, where they would literally feel nothing about asking you if their nudes were good before sending said nudes to the guys they actually like.

Kyouka had also told him of very unfortunate men who fell into that role, all while she was receiving said nudes.

“Wah! Damn, it’s cold!”

The moment they crossed the spatial boundary separating the Tower’s interior and the outside world, both of them were blasted with the frosty morning air and Mira couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise. Even the howling wind was almost deafening, making it difficult to hear each other.

It was a wonder how it could be so chilly without the republic being constantly snowy. Logically though, Reivan surmised that it was the southern winds blowing northwards from the expansive sea south of Sentorale. Though it felt a bit too much for just that. Southern territories in Aizen weren’t this cold despite being in contact with the southern sea.

Then again, it didn’t really matter. He just had to complain about the damned cold like everyone else did. As was tradition in the republic.

Mira took her hand off him in favor of rubbing both palms together, though the gloves she wore probably got in the way. A subconscious action, most likely. She eventually realized the futility of her actions though, instead pulling a thick white scarf out of thin air and wrapping it around her neck.

She turned to him with a pleading gaze. “Please tell me we’re not too far from wherever you’re taking me…”

“We’re not.” Reivan pointed somewhere. “I got us a ride.”

“You did…?” Mira followed his gaze and found an ornate white and gold carriage waiting by the gates, with two equally white stallions at the front to pull it forward. “Wow… What the heck is that?”

“It’s a carriage.”

“Thank you, for that obvious bit of information I already knew. But what’s it doing here? Why’s it so fancy?”

“I rented it.”

“Rented. You can do that?”

“Yes.” Reivan chuckled. “It’s a new service I chanced upon.”

Actually, it was surprisingly a venture by one of Ouroboros’ branch companies. A fact he almost missed if he hadn't seen a small decorative figurine of a serpent eating its own tail tucked away in a corner of the shop's reception area. Obviously, the decision was made while he wasn’t around, but he really had to thank Elsa. Or Gwen, honestly. Either of them could have arranged for it, though Gwen had a higher likelihood because she knew Reivan would be in Vel Ayala.

Not that he needed more proof the business was under Ouroboros' umbrella, but another piece of conclusive evidence was how the workers offered him a discount for no apparent reason other than just because he was one of their earliest customers. Obviously, they knew him by face. Which was dangerous, in its own way, but he simply had to hope Gwen had their reins held tightly so their mouths wouldn’t grow loose.

Anyway, the service provided a renting service for high-class carriages, plus a driver that could take them anywhere for the whole day as long as it was still within Vel Ayala’s vicinity. Reivan was surprised such a business model hadn’t already existed before Ouroboros came up with it.

‘With this, the proximity of each stop isn’t much of a problem.’

Kyouka had been limited because she couldn’t use her cars, but Reivan had no such problems, though he was careful not to plan stops too far from each other all the same.

“That looks like something a princess would ride on.” Mira couldn’t take her eyes off it.

‘Actually, we ride on better stuff, but this one’s pretty good too.’

Instead of horses, their carriages were normally pulled by giant huskies or at least horses with part monster blood, specially bred to be brave and ridiculously sturdy. These ones looked good but they were, in the end, inferior stock. Not that most would notice a difference.

“I didn’t rent it for you to ogle out in the cold, y’know.” Reivan offered a hand and nudged his head toward it. “Let’s go?”

“Okay…” Mira unconsciously took his hand and followed.

‘Gradual increase in physical contact.’

Earlier, she had merely placed a hand on his forearm. Now they were holding hands. Which was lewd, but hey, they were both wearing gloves so it should be fine.

‘Man, I miss memes…’

As they neared, Reivan noticed a middle-aged man with a kind face and a heavy-duty cloak that looked snug and warm on his crooked body. Their eyes met and they both nodded at each other.

“Clover Salwyn and Mira Serandina?” the carriage driver asked.

“That’s us.” Reivan pulled a slip of paper out of his inner coat pockets, handing it over. “They gave me this.”

“Ah, yes. That’ll do. Thank you for using the Wandering Wurm's Touring Services.” The man gave a deep bow, which wasn’t all that hard given how his bent back ensured he was always a quarter of the way there. “Please, step inside, dear customers.”

The driver opened the carriage door for them and Reivan gently led Mira inside, who was still somewhat spellbound by it all. He knew she would be, given how interested she was in everything related to the kingdom and its fairy tales; princesses being escorted by knights and riding carriages was a very common trope in Aizen's literature.

Reivan spent a moment confirming in a hushed whisper if the driver knew where they were initially headed. While they were generally free to dictate wherever they wanted to be driven to as long as it was within Vel Ayala, he’d already shared the basic outline of his plan. Of course, any plan with more than four steps wasn’t a plan—it was wishful thinking. As such, he left a lot of room for adjustment. Still, the first destination wouldn’t have changed.

After the driver gave a satisfactory answer, Reivan followed Mira inside and allowed the kind old man to close it after him. The carriage only had seats on one side, so that meant he had no choice but to sit somewhat closely with his date. This, obviously, was intentional. He picked this particular carriage not just because it would make Mira feel like a princess, but also because of this.

Sitting face-to-face was fine too, but he preferred the proximity. Plus, the legroom was hard to pass up.

As the door closed, Reivan fully noticed how comfortably warm it was inside. There was even a pleasant smell wafting in the air, like the scent of a freshly opened book.

‘These are enchantments.’

He recognized the feeling immediately, as the difference between artificing and whatever Arkhan did to make their magitech items was stark. It also reaffirmed his thoughts on Gwen being responsible, because the quality of the enchantments was beyond anyone but the experts working in the Royal Workshops could produce. Commercial workshops in Aizen only had access to the, well, commercial stuff.

These were a bit too advanced for that, considering that the enchantment responsible for the smell was a type that changed the smell depending on the recipient. It basically took on the scent of whatever was perceived as comforting—in Reivan’s case, that was a fresh book. Honestly, it could have also been Elsa’s body scent, though he supposed that would make him horny, not calm. In which case, his mother’s scent would have been good too. She always invoked this feeling of safety in him that he couldn’t quite grow out of, even when all she did lately was pester him about making babies and reviving the clan.

“Smells like the pie my Ma always made on special occasions…” Mira murmured quietly, though, in the enclosed space, she may have been yelling into a megaphone. “How’d they do that?”

“Kingdom magic, probably.” Reivan shrugged, answering as a normal Arkhanian would. “You know they have weird voodoo, right?”

“Right… Gosh, what I’d do to get a crack at their libraries…”

Reivan smiled as he watched her poke at even ordinary unenchanted parts of the interior, suddenly having the thought that perhaps this whole seduction thing was pointless. This girl did not look like she needed convincing if it involved going to Aizen.

‘Hm… Next time, I should arrange for some way to get her a visa. That would push her into going on her own.’

There was plenty of paperwork needed to get one, but such processes were trivial to a prince like him. He could wave his hand and it would be done. Who the hell would stop him if he said he wanted to let someone into the kingdom? With his discovery of Ouroboros’ new business here, he could just have Gwen make up some convoluted contest for a free all-expense-paid trip to the kingdom that was rigged for him and Mira to win.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be extra sure. Life had this weird tendency to flip the board from time to time, so it wouldn’t hurt to have contingencies anyway.

The carriage lurched forward and they went on their way.

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Since the carriage was going to take them out of the Lower City, it would have been a somewhat long and boring ride. But it was an opportunity for conversation, which was essential to getting closer.

Unfortunately, Reivan sprung a gift too early, and utterly lost Mira’s attention.

‘Goddamnit.’

Reivan chuckled wryly at his fellow passenger, poring over the book he’d borrowed from the store renting the carriage out. He had no doubts that the bookshelf and the tomes in it were simply meant as a decoration for the establishment’s reception area, but he’d taken advantage of it all the same.

Some of the books were translated from famous Aizenian classics, after all. He was quite sure an official translation for any of the books he saw there didn’t exist. For any language. But here they were, accurately translated to Arkhanian, though with some inevitable bias from its translator.

This reeked of something Gwen got up to. Somehow, the translation had a hint of her writing style, which he was quite familiar with since he read a lot of her reports. She must have done it in her free time.

'Actually, did she have any free time? And can I even call it free time if she's in another country, far away from her family?'

Anyway, Gwen was a great help yet again. Honestly, if Aizen could have a few dozen more Gwens, they’d rule the world. Or not. But life would be a lot easier for the royal family and the knighthood in general.

‘That woman needs a raise. Again.’

Reivan even considered the plausibility of going around Argonia and gathering up all the fatherless girls he could find in the hopes they’d grow up into another Gwendolyn. Sadly, there would be far too many girls to gather and he didn’t really think it was possible to mass-produce Gwens.

He’d just have to be satisfied with the one and only, he supposed.

“Interesting…” Mira murmured as she flipped through the pages.

Reivan peeked over and recognized the work, but still asked anyway. Just for the sake of asking. “What’s it about?”

“It’s an ancient treatise on the harmful effects of slavery on the economy and the deterioration of public morality it induced,” she answered him, thankfully enough, though it seemed most of her focus was still on the pages. “It seems the kingdom eradicated it extremely early on. Judging by the timeline, it happened even before the concept of democracy bloomed in what is later known as the Magitechnocratic Republic of Arkhan, which even now practices slavery, though in a very limited capacity.”

“I see.”

That was it. That was the end of the conversation and Reivan didn’t get much out of Mira after that. She had this lazy air about her most of the time, but she’d recently revealed a different side of her that came out in serious situations.

It seemed this situation was serious for her, because her focus was razor-sharp.

Sadly, it was on something else that wasn’t the guy she was supposed to be on a date with. Which was kind of sad. He lost to a book. A book. Reivan would not be forgetting this defeat for a long time. Though he could argue that he wasn’t the one who lost, because he wasn’t himself at the moment.

And so, he chalked this up as Clover Salwyn’s loss. Reivan Aizenwald was undefeated.

‘Eh. Whatever. She’s having fun, at least.’

That was the most important part of a date, he supposed. After today, she would remember who she had that fun with. He just had to hope that she actually remembered the part where he was right next to her the whole time and was somewhat responsible for why she even got her hands on the books.

As for getting to know more about each other, that didn’t necessarily have to be done today. They were in the same squad. And with a questionably successful date, he had the pretense of asking her out again.

Hell, the date hadn’t even truly begun.