"A teleportation gate will be installed in the castle being constructed in Lageton," Gwen assured him with her signature professional tone. "There will be no conflict with your concubines should they decline to live with you in Lageton."
"That's great." Reivan smiled, but more about the teleportation gate. Now he could give his brother a piece of his mind whenever he wished.
Furthermore, if things ever got too uncomfortable there, he could just zip back over here for a while. Nothing could compare to having the everlasting option to run away from one's problems. It was great, once in a while.
"Mother said she wanted to live there, however," Jiji said with a giggle. "But she likely won't get to do so because of the Treaty."
'Damn right. She'd probably step in to save me no matter the cost if I'm in danger. Can't have her doing that.'
"Oh!" Jiji exclaimed, her ears shooting upward, and her eyes widened as if she remembered something. "I almost forgot to tell you. The Matron of the Terracatta Clan expressed a desire to migrate most of its population to this new nation."
"Hah?" Reivan's jaw slackened, momentarily stunned. "Why...? I think we've been treating them well though? We gave them so much land."
Jiji waved her hand dismissively. "It's not because of anything negative. They want to do it so they can be as far away from the eastern continent as possible."
"Oh. Okay, that kind of makes sense..."
"Also, it's harder for their clan to distinguish themselves in the kingdom. They're nice to have around and the crown values them. But they lack the prestige of, say, House Mercer for example. They want the opportunity to truly make a name for themselves."
"Uh-huh..."
'You really don't wanna be treated as part of their tribe, huh?'
Reivan was naturally aware of the grudge Jiji harbored for the way she had been treated for her appearance when she was young. But clearly, those feelings had festered into cutting herself off from them. A full severance of all connections, so to speak.
'Hm... How do I fix this, I wonder? Ah, but should I even fix it? Does it require fixing at all? Would I be too nosy if I tried?'
He wasn't really sure. Reivan wasn't exactly a professor on how to make up with estranged family members.
Holding back a sigh, Reivan continued the topic as if they never had the non-verbal exchange. "They do understand that we can't have Ascendants muddying the waters there, right? Argonia and Aizen even went on a joint clearing operation, killing all Ascendant monsters throughout the republic's lands. Those bastards took the chance to kill off any battlemages they found though, but we can't do anything about that now."
Jiji nodded. "Their Ascendants and the young are going to stay. Only the Warbeasts who have unlocked their qi will migrate."
Reivan frowned. "So... thirteen years old and above?"
Understanding the unspoken sentiments behind his words, Jiji rolled her eyes. "You lived all civilized, Yani, so you don't know just how savage it was in the East. A Warbeast tastes blood way before they experience their first mating season."
'Jesus Christ.'
Scratching his head at the sudden bout of culture shock, Reivan didn't know how to respond. What, was he supposed to send a bunch of thirteen-year-old kittens into war? That sounded incredibly foolish and highly unethical. But apparently, according to Warbeasts, he was the weird one for thinking anything strange about that.
‘Ah. Well, I suppose I don’t have to make them do anything.’
There were probably still monster habitats all over the former republic, so he’d just throw them over there to sharpen their claws and sate whatever bloodlust they had. Since all of them would have Soul Armaments, they should be fine—
“Hm...?” Reivan grunted, suddenly realizing something. “Wait, you said Warbeasts that have unlocked their qi, right?”
“That is what I said, yes.” Jiji nodded, hugging Sen to her chest and ticking the white kitten’s tummy. “Does something about that concern you?”
“Just making sure, but they do have Soul Armaments, right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“...Huh.”
Gwen stepped in with her own input. “While unlocking qi is a vital requirement for a knight, they must also have prerequisite martial expertise in a variety of weapons, honed combat decision-making skills, sharp reflexes, and a whole host of other things including the capability of acting in accordance to the prestige their title grants them.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh.” Reivan nodded. “So basically, not thirteen-year-old Warbeasts who are probably horny and thirsty for battle?”
The blonde knight nodded. "I believe the king was open to granting all the eligible warbeasts soul armaments in advance, only to call them trainee knights. But the Terracatta Clan's matriarch refused. Apparently, she didn't want their clan's youth to grow dependent on soul armaments."
‘Goddamnit. Even more reason not to send them anywhere dangerous! They’ll have, like, a hundred Might or so. That’s so weak! They’ll get murdered in war! I mean, I heard the empire utilized peasant levies so young Warbeasts could probably deal with that, but…’
Reivan massaged the bridge of his nose. The country he would rule wasn’t even born yet but he was already facing its problems.
Luckily, he had a very competent person by his side.
“We can simply continue their knight training in Lageton, Your Highness,” Gwen said, like the angel of salvation that she was. “It lacks much of the capital’s infrastructure, not to mention the instructors, but that shouldn’t be too much of an issue. Additionally, most of the warbeasts coming with us have sworn their oaths after training these past few years. They're quick learners when it comes to combat, though certain other qualities apparently leave much to be desired. The percentage of warbeasts you're concerned about is only around twenty percent of the warbeasts coming with us."
"Oh. That's a relief..."
"There is also no need to force yourself to utilize them. You can even send them back if you wish.”
“Eh, but won’t that upset them?” Reivan scratched his head. “They’re future knights. I don’t want to piss them off to the extent they don’t sign up when they complete training.”
“There’s little chance of that happening, Yani.” Jiji also offered some input. “Also, the Matron’s no buffoon. She won’t send all the newly minted youths of the clan to war. Just the bravest ones, probably. Most of the Warbeasts involved will be a lot older than that, seeing as they have very few Ascendants.”
‘Oh. That’s true…’
Warbeasts were a cheat-like race that would automatically unlock their qi just from becoming horny teenagers. They also had extremely strong bodies, higher physical growth limits than humans, and the ability to transform into a beast form that granted them even greater Might.
But they had less magic power capacities than humans and this had various effects, eventually snowballing into a glaring difficulty when attempting Ascension. That was why the Terracatta Clan had very few Ascendants.
Of course, this meant that any Ascendants they did have were true elites in their realm.
“In that case…” Reivan gave it some more thought before sighing. “I guess it’s fine, then. I’ll just have to monitor this issue.”
Even if there were weaklings, they could simply be helped out by the others in their tribe. The Warbeasts weren’t like the traditional Aizenian Knight, after all. They actually had plenty of experience working together—unlike the solitary guardians that the kingdom trained.
“Dame Gwen, please monitor them for me when we get there,” Reivan said, realizing that delegating the task to someone better at it would be much more ideal than leaving it to someone who might half-ass it.
In other words, someone like him.
“Of course, Your Highness.” Gwen dipped her forehead before she hummed in thought. “Or perhaps I should start calling you Your Excellency now?”
“Not you too…”
Jiji giggled from the side, standing up and walking over to his side to massage his shoulders. “Cheers, Hierarch Reivan. Please treat this humble subject kindly.”
“I haven’t even started my term yet and I’m already surrounded by insubordinate staff? Woe is me.” Reivan rolled his eyes but let his sister do her work. She was oddly good at massaging his shoulders even though he wasn’t particularly stressed there. “Oh, by the way. What has the republic’s government been up to? The remnants of it, I mean.”
Gwen pulled out a stack of papers and offered them to Reivan as she said, “The capital city of Arkhana was utterly obliterated right after Sir Valter and the other Ascendants fled the scene—which was, in turn, after you fled. Since most of the republic’s politicians resided in the capital and fulfilled their duties in the Capitol building, the republic’s government has been crippled. The terrain itself has also reportedly deteriorated in a variety of ways and for a variety of reasons.”
“Shit…” Reivan couldn’t help but curse. He’d been to that city and actually interacted with a few people there. Memories of the orphanage Filth visited as he followed were brought to the surface of his mind as he asked, “Who did it?”
“We are not completely certain,” Gwen said. “Sir Rolf reported that the place was already in that state when he arrived. We can only assume that it was the other Transcendents, as the depth of the damage exceeds what an Ascendant could wreak. These are, of course, the assumptions of Ascendant Knights I’ve consulted on this topic such as Sir Valter and Dame Mordred.”
“I see…”
‘To think that just a few months ago I was agonizing over the death of one girl and a stranger.’
Because of the information he discovered and divulged, he had sparked the series of events that led to this massive loss of life. He’d be lying if he said he felt nothing. And he didn’t think the deaths of those people were just and right.
Yet Reivan would have done the exact same thing given the choice.
Steeling his expression, he gestured for Gwen to continue.
“From what I’ve gathered,” Gwen said with aloof professionalism. “All surviving settlements are operating on a system of self-governance. They haven’t gotten around to establishing contact with other towns or cities because they fear that Ascendants are still fighting elsewhere.”
“What about Argonia?” Jiji asked. “I bet they’ve swallowed the entirety of north Arkhan. They border it, after all.”
“That is the case, Your Highness. Though I haven’t ascertained to what extent, it is unlikely that the borders have remained secure these past two weeks. What with the Tower’s collapse and the empire’s full assault.”
“Even if Argonia left the mortal battlemages and the war golems alone for their own mortal forces to fight according to the Treaty, they would have already taken out any silver cloaks. North Arkhan stands no chance.”
‘North Arkhan…’
Listening to the two young women talk, Reivan recalled how Mira’s hometown was in Northern Arkhan. It had likely been razed by now. There was no concept of “war crimes” in this world, after all. Any ethics that knights practiced was unique to them and weren’t shared by the rest of the world.
Slavery wasn’t outlawed in the empire and was actually thriving. It seemed they would receive an influx of Arkhanians soon.
‘She’s not gonna be happy about that. Well, it’s not like I’m completely at fault for it though.’
On his orders, Mira’s entire clan was brought over to ensure their safety. So at most, she’d mourn friends and acquaintances. Still, hearing about the unfortunate fates of people you knew, even vaguely, wasn’t pleasant for anyone.
It seemed their topic also reminded her of Mira, since Jiji turned to him and asked. “What happened to that woman, by the way.”
“That woman has a name.”
“Right. Mi-something something. Where’d you hide her?”
“Mira.” Reivan corrected before he sighed, knowing that anything he said on this topic would be futile. “I taught her English using one of the pearls before giving her a visitor’s pass for the royal archives. That's quieted her down by a lot.”
Jiji grimaced. “Are you sure that was wise?”
“Why not? Everything there exists in the Great Library and that’s accessible to any normal citizen. We just keep a copy in the castle in case the library burns down or something. Right, Gwen?”
The knight nodded promptly. “One would require at least knight-level clearance to have access to anything truly sensitive.”
“And what about her spirit beast?” Jiji pointed at her own, which was busy nuzzling up to her stomach. “Spirit beasts aren’t exactly restricted by walls and floors.”
Reivan turned to Gwen again because he lacked a rebuttal to the logical jab from his sister.
To the rescue once again, she answered in his stead—almost as if she was ready to answer before the question was even asked. “The space between the normal archive and the one for knights is cut off in a way that even spirit beasts cannot go. Sir Valter’s spirit beast has tested this.”
“Right.” Reivan crossed his arms and grinned smugly at the cat-eared princess. “See? It’s fine.”
Jiji rolled her eyes as she stopped massaging his shoulders, opting to return to her seat instead. “One of these days. I’ll catch you without Dame Gwen around. That'll shut you up nice and good.”
Reivan feigned fear by rubbing his arms and shivering. “Don’t say something so scary!”
Even though she was acting all snippy with him, his antics still caused her to grin for a fraction of a second. She killed that spark of a smile quickly, however. “In any case, are you bringing that woman to Lageton when you take your post?”
'I've actually been thinking about that...'
On one hand, she was safer here and her family seemed to be adjusting fine to their new lifestyle. On the other...
In the end, he just shrugged. “Dunno. I suppose I’ll ask her. Even though she’s currently absorbed with the archives, she’s still a little mad at me, y’see. I think she’ll want to come though.”
‘She loves her homeland, after all.’
Mira would be a good asset to have considering how she could provide him with the perspective of a native Arkhanian. She was also relatively trustworthy—relative in the sense that Reivan had a more fun time sussing out information from her than, say, an Arkhanina prisoner or some other person who hated his guts.
“I think that’s all, for now.” Reivan decided. “My wedding’s at the end of this month and I really don’t want to sour this happy time with troublesome thoughts. Gwen… and you, you troublesome brat. Go ahead and recruit whoever the hell you want to come with us. You’re a better judge of ability in your respective fields than I am.”
“Delegation of duty is a vital skill for a leader.” Jiji recited an old royal proverb. “My Yani is coming along quite nicely.”
“Oh, shut it.” Reivan rolled his eyes and stood up, walking over to his sister and offering a hand. “I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere. My treat.”
The white-haired princess immediately beamed. “Can I pick the place?”
“Hm? Yeah, sure. It's whatever.”
“Great! I don’t have anything lined up today, so we can really—”
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Everybody in the room except Sen the mini white panther could perceive who was beyond the door so none of them were particularly on guard. Reivan merely flicked his wrist and opened the door with his will.
Valter stepped into the room with a dip of his head. “Your Highness.”
“Hey,” Reivan waved with familiarity since they didn’t need to maintain pretenses in their present company. “You didn’t have to do the whole knocking thing, Valter. Just teleport in.”
“I have decided to be more discreet considering how you will be spending your time in the near future.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
It didn’t take much thinking to realize that his guardian knight meant that.
Sex, that is. Reivan was going to be married soon and would be making babies with dozens of concubines. So he supposed it made sense for Valter to adjust to that not-so-little change in lifestyle.
Clearing his throat, Reivan changed the topic. “Something wrong, Valter? I said you could take a long break since I won’t really be leaving the capital for a while.”
“That isn’t it.” Valter shook his head. “Your uncle has safely returned from the expedition deep into the Outlands.”
Reivan’s brows shot up and he shared a smile with his sister. His uncle treated Jiji well too, so she understandably liked the old dog. “That’s great news. We’ll come see him, then. I don’t know if this news warranted you taking a break from your break though. A different Ascendant or even a maid could have done it though.”
“They’ve brought back natives.”
Immediately, Reivan realized what was needed of him.
‘It’s the darkin…’
It’s been eighteen years since Zell the World-Devouring Serpent implored him to help the darkin out. He’d never forgotten about it, though he couldn’t really take action himself considering how fast he’d die in the Outlands should he walk around unguarded.
The kingdom, however, held no particular desire to aid the darkin. They didn’t owe an Archon for their second life like Reivan did. As such, they treated the darkin as potential guests but also potential enemies. Caution that was warranted, in his opinion. And though he owed it to Zell to try his best, Reivan would still prioritize the nation’s interests over some foreign species.
Reivan was expected to use his [Supreme Insight] to check if they had any troublesome abilities to watch out for and he would take this duty very seriously.
“Kindly take me there, Sir Valter.” Reivan put a finger on the seated Jiji’s head before she could rise to join him. “Stay.”
“What?” Jiji scowled. “I wanna go too!”
“No. What if they have some kind of disease that only affects Warbeasts?”
“What the hell are you talking about? You’re a Warbeast too!”
“Only half.”
“Still…!”
Reivan sighed as lightning sparked from his fingertips and traveled into Jiji’s brain, paralyzing her momentarily. It wouldn’t last long, however, so he nodded to Valter to signal that he was ready.
Valter snapped his fingers and a dark puddle appeared on the floor, swallowing both of them whole.
Just before darkness overcame him, however, Reivan met Gwen’s gaze and the latter understood his intentions. She nodded and embarked to resume her duties.
----------------------------------------
Reivan opened his eyes to the sight of a familiar dark stone room with glowing obelisks scattered around a swirling portal of cyan and black. There were knights at the ready at all times, but among them was a figure that stood out like a sore thumb.
It was the Saintess of the Sun God floating directly above the center of the portal. Instead of priestly garbs, she still wore a white lab coat over what seemed to be normal work clothes.
She was a Saintess in all but fashion sense. Everything—her personality, her power, her face, and even her dream—was fine. Said Saintess was even chatting happily with some of the Ascendant Knights around the massive hall, as if they weren't hovering near the portal to an incredibly perilous place.
Saintess Frey immediately noticed his arrival, her pretty pink lips curling into a benevolent smile. “Your Highness. It has been many dawns since we’ve seen each other.”
Reivan steadied his feet and walked over to the portal’s edge. “Truly, it has. I must apologize for how Aizen’s matters have interrupted your research.”
Saintess Frey’s smile fell just as quickly as it appeared. Her gaze fell to the portal beneath her feet as she shook her head. “No, Your Highness. I’m glad the palace has revealed this to me. I’ve peered beyond and judged that there is no plague or sickness greater than what this world suffers. I would be happy to help in matters concerning this portal any time. You merely need to tell me and I will run you your aid.”
Smiling, Reivan dipped his head to one of Sentorale’s most powerful people. And likely the kindest one too. Remembering something, he took out a few boxes he’d purchased from here and there, letting them float toward the Saintess.
“It’s nothing much,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But I’ve been collecting tea leaves from all over to share with you. I hope you’ll accept them.”
‘It’s kind of a bribe. But not really.’
He just knew that she liked tea, so he got her some from different places in Arkhan. Some of the sources may have been wiped off the map now though, which was a sobering thought.
“Oh, my. You didn’t have to.” Saintess Frey smiled, sucking them all into her spatial storage ring without shame. “But since the prince has gone to all the trouble, it would be rude to refuse. I’ll accept them with gratitude.”
Reivan nodded in satisfaction. He never liked the whole back-and-forth that involved modestly refusing a few times before finally accepting. It was a big waste of time and was obviously very fake to people so used to piercing falsehood like them.
“Oh, I heard you’re getting married soon, Your Highness?” Saintess Frey's warm gaze fell on his face like the pleasant light of dawn. “Congratulations! Since I’m out of the lab already, I could officiate the ceremony. If you'll allow it, that is.”
“That would be amazing, actually. You really wouldn't mind?”
“Oh, it's no problem at all! I’m looking forward to it.”
‘Heh. Helen, I got us, like, the best priest for the wedding! And I didn't even need to ask first!’
Smiling widely, Reivan shared a few more pleasantries with the Saintess before jumping into the portal. He’d gone through it plenty of times, so he didn’t even feel disoriented nor did he grimace at the horrifyingly atrocious odor that permeated the Outlands.
He was also met by knights surrounding a group of beautiful raven-haired women.
With wings. Beautiful raven-haired women with wings.
‘What the…? Why are they all women though? Where are all the dudes? Also, these are fallen angels, no two ways about it. The first race an edgelord would select if they were available in a game.’
Honestly though, he would also select them first if they were available. Actually, maybe he was a bit of an edgelord too. And maybe that was okay. Edgelords never hurt anyone. Being one wasn't illegal either.
Regardless of whether he was an edgelord or not, Sir Valter appeared to take up a position behind him—just in time for his Uncle Viktor to step forward with a big grin.
“You brat.” Viktor roughly but lovingly ruffled Reivan’s hair. “You got bigger while I wasn’t looking.”
Reivan smirked. “I’m getting married soon, so you can’t call me a brat anymore.”
“That’s what a brat would say. Does a wolf stop being a wolf just because you paint it black or blue? It’s still a wolf. And you’re still a brat to me.”
Snorting, Reivan reached over to give his uncle a quick hug, only to receive a bear hug that would have made a normal person's spine scream. When he was finally released, he nudged his chin toward the darkin with a questioning gaze. “You brought home some interesting stuff, Uncle.”
“Interesting is an understatement.” Viktor shook his head. “Anyway, you probably know why I called for you.”
“You want me to check if any of them have anything particularly dangerous.”
“Not all of ‘em, but yeah. Just check one and that’ll be enough.”
Reivan shook his head. “May as well be thorough. I’ll check every single one. 'Sides, it's not like I'm busy or anything.”
“Suit yourself. You’re the brat with the eyes. You get to decide.”
Doing just that, Reivan’s eyes fell on a particular darkin that stuck out to him.
While all of them were pretty, had luscious dark hair, red eyes, and had a pair of ebony wings sprouting from their lower backs, this one had two pairs of black wings. There were two other darkin with two pairs of wings, but this one seemed younger than the other two. And also, for some inexplicable reason, she felt more special.
There was also the fact that the other two seemed to surround her protectively. So there’s that. Not to mention how she was dressed a bit better than literally every other darkin present. They weren't making it hard to tell that she was special in some way.
‘Lemme see what you’ve got…’
~^+— Unit's Statistics —+^~
Name: Iselle
Species: Darkin (Matriarch Bloodline)
Realm: Ascendant
Age: 18
Sex: Female
Special Abilities [None]
Might: 8,890 Extra Skills Elemental Affinities: [Darkness]
[Fire] [Essence Theft]
[Nightmare Manipulation]
[Qi: Unleashed] [Suffering Resistance]
[Sleep Immunity]
Favor: (Curiosity / Uncertainty) 15/ 100 Threat Level: Absolute
‘Huh. She’s weaker than ordinary Ascendants. Well, the ones I usually see, that is. That said, she’s eighteen so I’m trash compared to her. Even Helen falls behind. What the actual fuck…’
It would be a bit rude to their guest if he spent ages looking all of them over, so he quickly checked the two extra skills to see if they were dangerous to them, moving on to others when he realized they weren’t. The other two four-winged darkin, surprisingly, were weaker than the youngest one, only having around 6000 Might. That meant they were physically weaker than even human Ascendants.
A hastily thrown-together hypothesis was how their race wasn’t really made for physical combat, and as such, were physically weaker as a result. This Matriarch Bloodline that the first darkin had must have contributed to a slight boost because no other darkin in the group had it.
On average though, most of the mortal darkin had around 200 Might and already had their qi unleashed. Every single one had the same set of extra skills too, even though most of them were also in their teens.
‘Holy fuck. As expected of a race that literally lives in the Outlands.’
Come to think of it, since nightmare spawns were said to be born whenever someone slept, then that meant an essential aspect to have if one wanted to live in the Outlands was to not require sleep. These people seemed to have that, making them ideal residents of this accursed place.
Nobody would want to live there though. Even if they were the most suited to do the task.
“So?” Viktor nudged him on the shoulder after a while. “Hurry up. The knights have been through hell getting these people here. We didn’t lose any, but we were swarmed along the way. We even lost one of the black wings. A kid. First one we saw too.”
It was clear that whatever happened weighed heavily on his uncle, so Reivan didn’t bother to ask about it. Not now. And not while they were sober.
Consequently, he tried to lighten the mood a little. “Black wings? Is that what you came up with?”
“Well, we don’t know what to call ‘em.” Viktor shrugged, the dark shadow in his eyes vanishing slightly. “So we went with black wings.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit too literal? C’mon. Aizen’s Knight Commander can do better than that. Where's your creativity?”
“You wanna go think of a new name then?”
“You know what? Black Wings sounds good,” Reivan immediately replied.
Viktor snorted before shaking his head with a smirk. “So? Anything strange.”
“They’ve got some stuff I've never seen before, but none that we need to be bothered about.”
“Yeah? Can I let ‘em in, then? Give the order.”
Reivan raised a brow. “I mean… Just let them in if you want. Why ask me for permission? This ain’t my palace!”
“Bah. You’re a prince. Even if you’re a brat. So I gotta ask.”
Groaning, Reivan rolled his eyes with a shrug. “Fine, fine."
Then he turned to the knights and spoke aloud, with the intention for everyone to hear. "Go ahead, Sirs and Dames. Kindly escort our guests into the world that doesn’t try to kill you.”
That unexpectedly got a few chuckles from some of the more easy-going knights, only to get slapped in the back of the head by the more serious ones.
Reivan quickly realized something though—a language barrier existed between the knights and the darkin. The darkin were being coaxed through the portal using gestures and exaggerated body language. It wasn't going very well though, as the darkin were justifiably wary of the enormous swirling portal in front of them.
Anyone would, so their behavior wasn't weird.
‘Oops. Of course they’d have a language barrier. English only exists in this world because of the First King.’
Luckily, he still hadn’t reset the pearl of wisdom he used to teach Mira the English language.
The process was pretty simple, really. He took a linguistics scholar’s entire English repertoire, used the subsequent pearl on a death row prisoner, returned the pearl’s stored knowledge to the scholar, and then had the death row prisoner store all of his linguistic knowledge into the pearl.
As for the death row prisoner—who, in his opinion, deserved the punishment given his crime of participating in illegal slave trading in Worgon Outpost—he was rewarded with a painless death.
Then voila, he now had a pearl of wisdom that could teach anyone perfect English just by holding it for forty-seven seconds. Reivan intended to keep the stored knowledge in there so he could teach any Arkhanians they recruited.
“Uncle,” Reivan called out. “Give me your honest opinion. You think they’ll kill me if I touch them?”
Viktor’s face twisted into a grimace. “Brat. They haven’t even made it through the portal and you already want to have your way with them? Can’t you calm yourself down a little? You’re already an adult, so you should have learned to restrain the heat, right? This level of perverseness is a bit much...”
“Can you please not treat me like I hump everything I see? Look at this...” Reivan showed him the pearl, quickly summarizing what it could do.
Naturally, Viktor was shocked, his jaw growing slack as he marveled at the tiny pink sphere. “There’s such a thing? Where’d you get it?”
“It’s a long story. We can just talk about it over drinks.”
“Heh. Well, look at you. Drinking alcohol and shit. Fine, then. You owe me an empty bottle.”
Reivan then brought up the pearl, forcing the topic back on track. “So, see? They need to touch this for forty-seven seconds for it to take effect. I can’t really explain that before they learn English though. So I’ll have to touch them without their permission.”
“S’long as you’re not being a creep about it, shouldn’t it be fine? Don’t wriggle your fingers like you used to do or smirk like a pervert.”
Reivan stepped forward and rolled his eyes. “Gee, that’s some good advice right there.”
Just as he was contemplating which of the mortal darkin to approach, the first one he examined earlier flew forward and landed softly a few paces in front of him, a graceful smile on her face. Valter was nearby and there was no way any sane creature would try something when it was obvious how important he was to all of the scary warriors surrounding them.
‘Wow, she’s a little thin but she’s prettier up close, huh?’
Not as much as Helen or Elsamina though. Maybe he was a bit biased because his brain was filled with both love and carnal desires for particular people, but nobody was better than his fiancees. That said, the darkin called Iselle was a close runner-up right next to a bunch of other people he knew—if she wasn't malnourished, that is. Her red eyes were especially striking too, like two lunar eclipses happening at the same time, boring into his soul.
“Hm, well, there goes my right to choose,” Reivan muttered, deciding to just go with the flow. "Guess I'll go with you."
But as he was thinking of how to mime his intentions, the fallen angel suddenly did something unthinkable.
She knelt in front of him—no, she prostrated. Hands flat on the ground and her forehead touching it too. Her beautiful black wings were folded, her current posture allowing him a full view of their magnificence. He’d initially likened them to a crow or a raven’s but it was more than that.
When he stared at her wings, he felt like he was peering into an endless abyss.
It almost sucked him in.
But he snapped out of it and tried to help her up by gently holding her hand as he pulled. “There’s no need for this, miss. C’mon, please get up. You're getting dirty. You should know just how foul this place's soil is.”
‘Oh, wait. Actually, this is the perfect opportunity to get her to touch the pearl! I’m a genius.’
Reivan took out the pink pearl and pushed it into her hand while he himself held it tight. She seemed surprised by this, but he just needed her to hold on. Just forty-seven damned seconds and they could actually communicate like civilized people.
Trying to find something to distract her, he thought of something.
“Iselle,” Reivan said. It was the name of the darkin whose hands he was holding, though he wasn’t sure if he was actually pronouncing it correctly. With any hope, he was close enough. It was a name that sounded as if it would be right at home in this world, which gave him a bit more confidence.
Her name.
To distact her, he went ahead and said her name. Because nobody would expect someone they were meeting for the first time to know who they were. As a consequence of the language barrier, none of the people they traveled with for an extended period knew her name, probably.
That one time when he blurted out Freed’s true name was still a memory burned into his mind, but this time, there wasn’t a mention of true names. Maybe it was a bit optimistic, but he assumed it would be okay to say her name.
Suddenly, however, the other darkin around them started to stir. And even Iselle, wings fluttered as she stared at him with eyes widened in shock.
‘Fuck. Fuck, I did something again! Shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it this time!’
Reivan closely observed his surroundings and noticed that the other darkin weren’t really agitated or angry. Rather, they seemed to be… squealing? Or swooning? Like those crazy fangirls who got front-row tickets to their favorite boy band’s concert tour. Or like how Kyouka acted when she pulled a bespectacled character in a gacha game.
Even the other two Ascendant darkins were smiling in what appeared to be pleasant shock.
‘What the fuck is going on...!?’
The language. He just had to wait for a few more seconds and he could ask for an explanation.
Before time was up, however, Iselle stepped forward and wrapped her surprisingly soft arms around him in a gentle embrace.
“Eh?” Reivan dumbly exclaimed as he stood there, stunned but unharmed.
Behind him, he could hear his uncle complaining, exasperated beyond measure. “Fucking brat seduced another one…”
‘No! NO! This isn’t my fault! What the hell are you even saying!?’
Well, it kind of was his fault, but still. He felt very aggrieved.
'I know there was a meme about it back on Earth, but holding hands shouldn't be such a big deal!'