It would have been a waste to part ways when fate and chance just happened to bring them together already, so Reivan and Hector chose one of the many private parlors in the palace to kill some time—which eventually transformed into sharing a drink.

Before he left to fulfill his duties in Arkhan, Reivan never liked drinking alcohol. That is, until his little foray as Clover Salwyn made him appreciate the devil's water a little.

Naturally, he wasn't a big fan of hangovers and blackouts. It was fortunate that his original body had some level of tolerance for booze. Or maybe it was just because his body—and subsequently, his metabolism and all sorts of other stuff—had developed to the extent that he needed a ridiculous amount of alcohol to feel even a little tipsy.

'Yep. It's great when I don't have the alcohol tolerance of a wet tissue. Now I can really take the time to take in the smell and the taste.'

"Good stuff." Reivan licked his lips and savored the finely aged wine. Though it was a bit too early to be drinking by Aizen's standards, nobody around would chastise them. Besides, they wouldn't be having very much so it hardly mattered.

Probably.

"Ah. We're all out..." Hector muttered with a frown, pouring the last drop of wine from the carafe into his own cup. He downed it all in one go and shrugged. "Oh well. It's a bad idea to drink too much anyway."

"Right, right. Adult responsibilities and whatnot."

"Speaking of adult responsibilities... I heard you brought home some Arkhanian girl. Pretty too, according to trustworthy sources."

Reivan found himself grimacing as he threw a suspicious glare at his best friend. "Where'd you even hear that?"

"Here and there." Hector motioned nonchalantly at nothing in particular while idly stroking a miniature dragon curled up on his lap—the same one Reivan had given him as a bit of a souvenir. "Sometimes, the winds bring news. That's all."

"You're so full of shit. Was it Helen?"

"Who else could it be?"

"Urgh..." Reivan groaned as he clicked his tongue. "Did she... uh, say anything...? Y'know, about being displeased and whatnot."

Hector shook his head. "No, I was informed only recently about her. Particularly, it's so I don't think she's some kind of intruder when I come visit. Which is funny, because who'd be dumb enough to infiltrate the palace of all things? You'd have to be a madman."

"is that all?"

"No. She also told me not to tease you too much about it."

"Then you should've done as she said, you ass."

"That's so lame though. Anyway, you didn’t answer the question. What’s up with the chick? Are you marrying her too? Don't you think you should ease up a bit?”

“Why are you being so damned persistent…?" Reivan massaged the bridge of his nose before shrugging. “And as for marrying her, that’s still up in the air. She kind of hates me a little… Or maybe not so much anymore. But for now, we're just trying to be friends.”

“If you say so,” Hector said in a tone that made it very obvious that he didn’t believe him. “Right. Also, I'm moving to Lageton eventually. Maybe a little bit after you arrive there, if conditions are right.”

“Huh. I thought you’d want to enjoy married life a little?”

“Things kind of aligned, y'see. Oh, but it'll have to be after the kid's born. And the rumored climate problems die down.”

Apparently, House Mercer was going to send a number of mortal knights to establish a branch family based in the new country—which Reivan was still supposed to name but hadn’t gotten around to yet because he wasn’t very good at naming things.

That went double for the Terracatta Clan, who would be sending even more. Unlike House Mercer, they didn’t have Fort Alexander to protect after all, meaning they didn't have a territory or much else to do other than activities in the Outlands. Even without all that, he understood that they wanted a place where they could prove themselves.

Because of that and his friendship with Reivan, Hector was tasked with being the de facto head of the subsidiary clan from the Mercer side of things. And Mimi, a member of the royal family, would be a good bridge between the Terracatta Clan and Reivan—the new ruler—even though she technically wasn't part of the warbeast's clan anymore.

Blood was thicker than water. That applied here too because Mimi just couldn't find it in her to completely break away from her people the same way Jiji did, as the former didn't suffer from the same ostracization as the latter.

In essence, there were political reasons why it was convenient for Hector and Mimi to go to Lageton. It was convenient for Reivan, so he wouldn't be complaining about the arrangements any time soon. Not that he had anything to complain about.

“Also, I just want to be there, ya know?” Hector shrugged, lightly punching Reivan’s shoulder. “I admit I'm not that great, but there’s gonna be a lot of fighting so someone’s gotta watch your back, right?”

Reivan couldn’t help but smile at that. “Thanks, Hector. It'd be great to have you.”

“Well, don’t thank me yet. Who knows, I might make a catastrophic mistake that dooms us all.”

“Pfft. Yeah… I can kind of see that happening...”

Hector punched him again. A bit harder this time. “I was joking. You’re supposed to reassure me that I’m not that bad."

The two childhood friends joked around like old times—times when their greatest worries seemed so trivial and irrelevant. Reivan felt his heart lighten because of precious moments like these, hoping he’d have more of it. It was a fantastic reprieve from constantly being on edge while behind enemy lines, far away from the home he'd found in his second life.

When he returned from his prolonged stay in the republic, Reivan and Hector had numerous chats and even drank together to catch up on things—which was mainly just Reivan recounting what had happened to him. It had taken multiple meetups to actually recount all that had happened, and only after did Hector begin to tell him about what happened while staying in Aizen—which wasn’t much, but that was a good thing because it meant no tragedies or mishaps occured.

Truly, peace was wonderful. It would be great if it lasted forever, but they both knew that wouldn't be the case.

“Hey,” Reivan crossed his legs and reclined, sinking even deeper into his soft armchair when the conversation had died down. “Remember the trainee battlemage in my squad I told you about? The one that chased skirts like his life depended on it.”

Hector raised a brow and seemed to dig through his memories for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Aldimir, right? What about him?”

“I told you about him but I forgot to say that he reminded me of you.”

“Oh yeah? Was he handsome and charismatic like me?”

“He was confident, yes.” Reivan rolled his eyes with a grin. “But he was actually the complete opposite of you in a lot of ways.”

Aldimir had been a womanizer while Hector surprisingly fixated on just a single woman like most men in Aizen. The former had been lazy while the latter was disciplined and secretly diligent to a fault. And though it wasn’t that important, their chosen fighting styles were opposites.

But with all that said, they had plenty of similarities: the way they talked, the way they both had issues with their parents, and the way they both didn’t have it in them to be disloyal to comrades.

Reivan sighed when he recalled what Mordred had told him about Aldimir's reaction to Clover's death. “He was a good guy. All in all.”

Hector nodded to himself as a somber mood filled the air. And only after a dozen heartbeats passed did he break the silence. “Is he dead?”

To that, Reivan could only shake his head. “I didn’t kill him, at the very least. But I’m not sure if he is. And if he is still alive, I'm not sure where he'd be. Apparently, he and the rest of the squad weren't in the Tower when the Sword Star ripped it out.”

“I see… Do you want him to be alive?”

“I…" Reivan paused to muse on his feelings but found himself nodding in just a heartbeat. "I think I do. No, I'm sure I do. There's no need for him to die, so... And I think this way about the rest of the squad too. They're all good people.”

“Then let’s hope that they're all okay. I’d like to meet this Aldimir in particular though. Tell him to stay away from my daughters, if I ever have any.”

“I don’t think he likes them that young.” Reivan chuckled, thinking that it would be nice to see a meeting between the two.

But then again, should Reivan even tell Aldimir and the rest of his squad about him being the Clover that they knew? Was there a merit to that? There were definitely demerits, such as revealing that there was a way to transform into people without being detected even by Ascendants—and that Reivan had access to that method.

‘Yeah… I probably shouldn’t.’

He supposed this was yet another conflict of interests between his selfish desires of the responsibility of being one of the kingdom's many swords. These kinds of things were going to pop out a lot in his life, he realized. But he was just going to have to agonize and deal with it because both aspects were him. They were two parts of a whole.

“Van,” Hector carefully called out, using the nickname that only a few people used. “Are you okay? You know… About all of this. There’s the whole concubine army thing. Then there’s being the head of a literal country. And then there’s helping those darkin ladies you mentioned too.”

Reivan looked up from his empty cup and saw the worry in his friend’s eyes. It was at these moments that he thanked whatever gods looked over him for having met a friend like this. He may not have had plenty, but the one he had was worth countless acquaintances who would only stick with him when the weather was fair.

Because troubled times were when you needed a friend the most.

“I’m fine. Really.” Reivan traced his empty cup’s rim with his thumb as he spoke. “I think I actually like the responsibility and the expectations placed upon me.”

Hector's brows furrowed in confusion. “You like it...?”

"Yeah." Reivan nodded with a sheepish grin. “You see… They look at me and see someone dependable. Someone they can share their burdens with. Someone they can count on. And I want to prove them right.”

He would complain, he knew, when the workload was heavy. Or when he was so busy he never had the time to indulge in hobbies or spend time with the people he loved. When he was leagues away from the people he wanted close, surely, he would be frustrated and homesick.

But he’d take this over being perpetually ignored as if he was some stain on the floor any day. Like the little boy who spent thirteen years sleeping alone in a lonely room that smelled of medicine, hoping his parents would visit at least once before he passed away.

Reivan didn’t want to be that boy anymore. He didn’t want to be a burden that was better off being forgotten.

‘I want them all to see me. Because I’m right here.’

“I…” Hector also seemed pensive, his gaze lowered to his own empty cup. “I think I can understand. I mean, if I wasn’t talented or friends with you, I don’t think my clan would even look at me. Now, that’s definitely not the case anymore. And I suppose it doesn’t feel all that bad.”

“Oh yeah?” Reivan raised a brow, finding the corners of his lip rising. “I thought you hated your family.”

“Hate… is what I thought I felt. I was young, after all. I didn't even know what I was supposed to feel. But I realized that wasn’t actually it. I probably just wanted to prove them wrong. That my mother did the right thing by giving birth to me. And I think I’ve already accomplished that.”

"They still kind of treated you like shit, no?"

"Some did, yes. But the clan still raised me and my sister, right? They didn't leave us in an orphanage just so they'd never have to see us again."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“I guess that's true." Reivan hummed in thought, suddenly discovering that his friend was a lot more mature than he was. Because he wasn't sure if he could let go of a grudge had their positions been switched.

'And to think I'm mentally twice this guy's age even without all the time I spend in my head.'

"Cheers, then." Reivan raised a toast. "To those who don't want to be ignored.”

"What kind of shitty toast is that..." Despite what he was saying, Hector still chuckled.

And with smirks, they clinked their empty cups together.

----------------------------------------

Men were strange creatures that were prone to feeling very awkward after a heartfelt moment, so Reivan and Hector split up after that.

Hector had been on his way to see his pregnant wife-to-be before he got sidetracked by the encounter with Reivan. Reivan wasn’t uncouth enough to butt into that so that was even more reason to say goodbye and do their own thing.

Funnily enough, Mimi had told Hector to visit her once every day to rub her belly. It was apparently a warbeast thing, but both Hector and Reivan were sure she just made it up. There was no such tradition, but that did remind Reivan that he should probably talk to his brother about setting Hector up in the palace. As it was, Hector was too inconvenienced by the everyday commute between the Mercer Manor and the Royal Palace.

Now that Mimi—a princess, though an adopted one—was pregnant, it made sense for Hector to be taken in too. It was the same for Stella in the past and Helen presently; both pretty much lived in the palace before their respective wedding ceremonies.

If he knew his brother though, arrangements to do so were probably in the works already. Maybe Hector would move in as early as today. There were just a bunch of other issues cropping up lately—such as the possible destruction of the kingdom if the Sword Star died in the Battle of the Titans or the literal discovery of the darkin race—that prevented his brother from noticing these relatively mundane concerns.

In any case, Reivan just ended up killing time until dinner at one of the smaller dining halls, where his whole family was surprisingly present.

His parents were there, as well as the reigning royal couple. Both of his adopted sisters too, plus the pregnant one’s fiancee. Despite the noise, his baby nephew was sleeping peacefully in a nearby crib and his young nieces were happily sitting on his Uncle Viktor's shoulders, enjoying the higher vantage point.

Naturally, his own fiancee was there too, looking as beautiful as ever.

It was a peaceful scenery, one that Reivan wanted to see every day for the rest of his life. Sadly, he wouldn’t get to see it as much after getting married, but such is the weight of responsibility that he would gladly bear. He’d satisfy himself with seeing it every once in a while.

After that, his uncle pulled him away so they could catch up and they were joined by his father, his brother, and his other brother—Hector. Unexpectedly, all the men of the royal family were gathered, though he supposed his nephew was missing on account of being an infant who was better off staying away from noisy drunks. With their cups filled to the brim with the really strong stuff, conversations stopped making sense at some point. And Reivan found himself forgetting what they even talked about as he stumbled back to his room.

“You stink.” Helen immediately told him when he got inside their shared chambers. "You drank too much, no?"

“Father pulled out the good stuff, see...” Reivan chuckled, looking at her and finding her extremely huggable. The moment he thought so, she was somehow already in his arms. He wasn’t very clear on who initiated it, but it didn’t really matter to his tipsy mind.

His hands naturally lowered and found two soft peaches.

‘This is great…’

“Hey, watch where you're grabbing...” Helen muttered, looking up at him with clear exasperation. “Are you just going to sleep like this?”

“I think so…” he muttered as he leaned down to rain kisses down on her neck. And he must have been doing it right because he felt an arm hook around his head to pull him even deeper in.

While in his stint as Clover Salwyn, Reivan was the type of drunk who didn’t remember what happened while he was drunk. But as himself, he realized that he was the dizzy type. Or perhaps that was just the particular alcohol he consumed.

He wasn’t sure. But sometimes, it would just make him horny or cloud his judgment.

‘Hell. Maybe it’s dependent on the moon and stars at this point.’

Helen eventually pushed him away, her nose crinkled. "I can't. The smell of alcohol is just too much."

"Eh, c'mon..."

"No."

Reivan pouted but relented, dispelling his drunkenness with [Effect Reproduction] and getting rid of his smell through a release of icy mist. If he did it too close to the furniture, he might ruin it in a moment of carelessness. Of course, he was adept enough to avoid such an outcome. Even half-asleep, he'd never be muddleheaded enough to damage his own chambers.

Maybe.

'Ah. Did I just raise a flag where I end up destroying my room...? Surely not.'

"What about now?" Reivan spread his arms wide with a grin before hopping onto their bed.

Helen sat at the edge and took a sniff. "Better. You shouldn't neglect bathing properly though..."

"Hey, I take a bath every day and brush my teeth twice a day, okay?"

They both changed into more comfortable clothing—which was easy, since they were products of their soul armaments and he could change with a mere thought.

And even though she just expressed her doubts about his hygiene, Helen still cuddled up to him under the covers. Which he really appreciated because he didn’t think he could go back to sleeping alone after these past few weeks. It had become one of his creature comforts and he couldn't bear to live without it.

Well, he probably could, but he didn’t want to.

“Van,” Helen whispered.

“Yes, my lovely wife?” Reivan played along with a grin as he matched her hushed tone. “Is there something I can do for you? Or is there something wrong?”

She shook her head, still buried in his embrace. "No. I actually wanted to ask you if there was something wrong. About everything that's been happening lately.”

“What are you talking about? Everything’s perfect. I trust your judgment on matters of our wedding.”

“What? No. I’m not talking about just the wedding. And it feels like you’ve been saying those exact words a lot lately…”

‘Fuck.’

He cleared his throat and found himself more sober than before. “What did you mean, then?”

“You know… About all sorts of things," she repeated slowly, seemingly mulling over every word. "Everything is happening all at once. For you, especially. The wedding, the concubines... and then there's the move to Lageton too. And that's right after you spent months infiltrating enemy lines. I just thought that you'd... be having a hard time. If you want, we could delay the wedding until things calm down a little...”

Reivan finally cracked his eyes open and looked down to his chest, where the worry was clear in Helen’s eyes. Despite the situation, he found himself grinning.

‘Is it because they’re twins? They’re similar in more ways than I thought.’

He once again found himself appreciating the sort of company he found himself around. Truly, few people had his lucky stars on this particular aspect.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Reivan said, almost telling her exactly what he’d told Hector. But he stopped himself in time. Because while his feelings were the same, one was his best friend and the other was going to be his wife soon.

In a moment of clarity, he spoke. “I can take on the world if you’re with me.”

That seemed to go over very well, because even Helen seemed to get shy, averting her gaze as the arms around him tightened. Really, he was going to spend a lot of effort getting all sorts of reactions out of her usually inexpressive face. It was his privilege as the husband, he thought.

“I’ll do my best…” she quietly said.

“I know.” Reivan kissed her on the forehead as comforting drowsiness completely overtook him. “I will too. Now, no more talks of delaying the wedding. I'm excited for it too, y'know?”

"Even though you think the preparations are a pain?"

"I-I mean..."

"Y'know, I've heard there's this slip of paper getting passed around with wedding tips for men..."

Reivan heart sank.

----------------------------------------

The next day, Helen was still in a very good mood, presumably because of their little chat before going to sleep.

During their early morning spar, she didn’t hit him in the face at all and was markedly more gentle with the strikes that did land. Obviously, he wouldn’t hit her that hard either. They were a little too in the mood for this, clearly. Because of that, the spar was quite useless because both of them unconsciously held back too much.

‘Yeah, this isn’t gonna work, huh?’

They were going to have to find different sparring partners soon.

While it was touching for it to happen when they had always been capable of putting feelings aside during spars, it was unhealthy for their skills.

‘Hector is going to be around a lot now, but…’

While his best friend was amazing in his own right, he wasn’t quite at Reivan and Helen’s level yet. In matters of technique, he was close or even on par with them. But there was still a gap in physical potency. Considering that close combat was a knight’s main weapon against an opponent of a similar level, that was a big disadvantage.

Most likely, he’d have to go with Gwendolyn or some other nearby knight instead. Because of the Treaty, all the knights he would have around him very soon would be mortal ones, giving him plenty of choices.

‘Ah. That reminds me. Valter’s going to be out of a job for a while…’

Officially, the Treaty of Alexander was an agreement not to utilize Ascendants and Transcendents against other signatories, and that a nation would need the votes of half the signatories to become one.

That said, there was an agreement that only Argonia and Aizen were a part of. And that was to keep their most powerful forces out of Arkhan entirely in addition to being confined to their respective capital regions—the Capital Province for the Empire and the entirety of Aizen for the Kingdom. Surprisingly, Aizen was only as big as one of Argonia's provinces, which really cemented just how expansive Argonia was.

This arrangement was actually great for Aizen because their biggest problem was the portal to the Outlands, not some other nation. Most countries only had one Transcendent, after all, but the Outlands had an innumerable number of them and it would continue to produce more.

An exception to the rule was the monthly patrol of one’s territory, where they were allowed to scour the lands for any Ascendants who were unaccounted for—such as ones that came from other continents or monsters that Ascended. Another exception was if their territory was attacked or threatened by a force above the mortal level, which was a reasonable exception to the rules.

In any case, Valter couldn’t actually come with Reivan because of those limitations. A sad thing, really. But they could see each other whenever they pleased because of the gate portal installed in Lageton. It cost resources every trip, however, so he couldn’t be too wanton about it.

Replacing Valter as his guardian knight was Sir Xander, Valter’s descendant and someone who had served as a spy for years. He’d be officially retiring his identity as “Xanthus” and handing the reins of leading Ouroboros’ paramilitary corps to someone else.

As for Ouroboros itself, he still had to talk to Elsamina about it but he essentially planned for the organization to be partnered with the government he would be heading. And by that, he meant all of Ouroboros, including all of its subsidiary and decoy companies.

Essentially, it would completely break away from its underground nature and become his government's partner. This would fully pull it out of the darkness and into the light, which was in line with what Reivan and Elsa's recent intentions for the organization.

‘Elsa…’

Reivan sighed wistfully when he remembered his other fiancee, who he hadn’t seen for quite a while now. He had exchanged messages over relay holostones, though. And Gwen had told Elsamina that Reivan—or rather, “Ken”—was fine, sparing her from any sleepless nights of worrying about him.

‘It’s about time I tell her the entire truth, huh?’

As far as he knew, Elsamina still wasn't aware of his true identity. And though she understood that he was supposed to marry another girl before he married her, he hadn’t told her that it would be happening very soon. Which was perfectly understandable because even he hadn’t been clear about the exact date until he actually came back.

“Helen…” Reivan cleared his throat and looked at the beautiful dark-haired woman he was going to marry soon, sporting that familiar ponytail that exposed her nape. It was a shame he was about to possibly end her good mood. “We need to talk about Elsa…”

“Mhm.” Helen’s face soured a little as expected, but she thankfully didn’t look outright upset or angry. “Have you told her who you really are yet?”

“No, not yet. I planned to, though.”

“Then you should head over to Lageton and do that. Today’s good. You’re not really doing anything since you’ve left all the wedding matters to me, big sis, and mother-in-law. Seriously, mother-in-law was right about men...”

Sheepishly, he chuckled and averted his gaze. “Today, huh…”

“Yes. You’d have to go before the wedding if you’re to invite her to it, no?”

Reivan’s brows shot up. “Is that really alright with you…? You wouldn’t mind?”

Helen grimaced for a brief moment before sighing. She then stabbed her sword into the grass and sat down. “I’ve done a lot of thinking on my own while you weren’t around. About our future.”

“Oh. Okay. And…?”

“And though I won’t pretend like I like her… I don’t think I hate her either. I’m sure you understand, but we won’t ever get along. I hope you never expect us to either."

"That... makes sense." he nodded with a sigh.

"I can tolerate sharing given your status, but I won’t ever like it. You understand, right?”

"Yes." Reivan bobbed his head repeatedly. Trying to think about it from her perspective, he wouldn’t like it if she had a lover other than him. Even if world peace literally depended on it or something, he would understand but he would hate it.

“But,” Helen said, turning to meet his gaze. Her dark eyes were clear, and there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “She’s worked hard for your sake and I can’t find myself disliking her for that. If she’s going to support you more in the future, then I’ll try to get along with her as long as you’re not around.”

“...Eh? Is that your way of telling me to fuck off?”

“You misunderstand.”

Helen stood up, hooked his chin, and held it in place. Her eyes narrowed in an almost predatory way that sent a tingle down Reivan's spine.

“When we’re together, I want your eyes to be solely on me.”

“Ah.” Reivan found himself breathless for a moment before nodding. “Yes, ma’am. Loud and clear.”

“Very good.” She smiled and let go, turning around and walking off to the palace. “Get going, then. Before I change my mind and lock you in chains. I already have the chains just in case."

"You're joking..." he laughed awkwardly but the notification of a lie being detected never came. So he cleared his throat and resolved to be a bit more on guard for a while. “Right. I’ll be back by tomorrow.”

“Not tonight, but tomorrow, huh…?” Helen’s steps halted before she sighed and continued. “Well, fine. I won’t mind what you do with others as long as I don’t see it and as long as you’re mine alone when we are together. As for Elsamina, I would rather she was absent from my wedding but I at least want to invite her. I don't think she'll want to come though... Because I wouldn't want to come to hers.”

Reivan wiped a bead of cold sweat running down his forehead. “I'll invite her.”

“Don't try too hard.”

And with that statement that sounded slightly threatening, Helen disappeared into the palace leaving Reivan in the garden. Inexplicably, he found himself rubbing his neck.

‘That went a lot better than I thought it would...’

Honestly, he didn't know how all those harem protagonists did it.

In any case, Reivan had expected some last-minute arguing regarding Elsamina. Sure, Helen may have already said that she wasn't going to stop him in the past. But there was always the chance that she had a change of heart. And he wouldn't have blamed her for it either.

Afterall, not all good things were better when shared.