This was uncomfortable.

Aiden fought the urge to keep his eyes forward and focus on what was outside the carriage window as the carriage trudged along.

He’d been given the basic information of his story before the journey had begun by Vass. It had been a weird encounter simply sitting in his room, on his bed, while the young boy narrated the king’s message like an automated machine.

He was to maintain his alias used for his adventuring. He was a bastard son of some secret noble somewhere who was into adventuring and had gained favor in Valdan’s eyes. He was not Valdan’s student even though he trained with Valdan as it was not a simple thing to be squire to a knight.

Aiden could work with all of that.

As for the details of the trip. They would find their way to the teleportation center. There, they as well as their jepats and carriage and all that they had with them, would be teleported all the way to the South where they would be received by a waiting entourage from the Naranoff family.

The family was already aware of their visit and would treat them with all the hospitality for the duration of their stay.

As for why Aiden hadn’t heard the information directly from the king, it was because the king had been occupied at the time.

Vass had told Aiden this, and somehow he had a feeling it was not an important part of the message as far as Brandis was concerned. One did not ask why a king did not deliver his messages personally. They simply took the message however it was delivered.

Aiden’s real problem was in the complete hitch in his plan. She sat down opposite him, staring directly at him. He was forced to stare outside at views he knew all too well just to avoid making eye contact.

Princess Elaswit Brandis.

Aiden played around with his memories, remembering what he could about her. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been close with any member of the royal family in his past life. All he knew of them were rumors and open secrets.

A strong one he knew about Elaswit was that while she had her mother’s ability to be cultured and feminine, she was more inclined to her father’s way of things. There would be not politicking with her.

If she had questions, she would ask. If she felt that a challenge was necessary, she would challenge. She had the [Butcher] class which gave her a very powerful advantage in a situation where she had to fight multiple opponents.

And she used the class to its extremes in battles from what Aiden knew.

Why is she here?

He had asked Valdan the very same question when he had arrived at the carriage this morning to find her already seated within, waiting for them.

Valdan’s response had been simple and very lacking of information. “She has business in the South.”

Aiden would’ve liked to go into his old knowledge to claim that she in fact had never had business in the south, but he could not. That was the thing with his past life, he only knew what he knew. And in his earlier days, there had been a lot of things he hadn’t know.

At this rate he could not count on his knowledge of the miniscule things. All his actions had already set the miniscule things askew. He had clashed with Jang Su in unarmed combat, killed a Goblin Shaman that may or may not have gone on to do other things, and gained the direct attention of king and Sage.

Don’t forget you’ve also helped ensure the first person to know the location of two Sages outside of yourself.

“Does Lord Lacheart intend to stare out of the carriage for the duration of our trip, Sir Valdan?” Elaswit asked. “Is this how he is when he travels?”

Valdan wasn’t dressed as a knight currently, merely a simple man on a trip with his hair tied back in a blue ribbon.

“Unfortunately, princess,” he said in a respectful tone, “this is to be my first trip with the young lord, one I almost did not attend.”

“So you do not have the answer.”

“I do not. However, we did take a carriage to the ball hosted for the envoys from Nel Quan and there wasn’t so much outside the carriage staring.”

Aiden held back a scowl as they passed the adventure society hall.

“Lord Lacheart,” Elaswit said, addressing him directly.

“Princess.” He did not take his eyes off the road outside.

“You may call me Elaswit in the presence of Sir Valdan or when we are alone,” she corrected.

Aiden fought the urge to raise a questioning brow. When they were alone? You did not suggest etiquettes to be addressed when alone unless you either expected that events would lead you to be alone with the person or you planned on being alone with the person.

“I will remember that, Princess,” he answered.

You’re thirty years old and you do not know how to have a conversation with a woman, he chided himself.

It was a worrying thought.

Well, technically, I’m nineteen and she’s twenty-two. Also, I talked with Taliner just fine. It’s a princess I’m having an issue with.

“May I take this to mean that I am intentionally being ignored, Lord Lacheart?”

Aiden drew his attention from the boring road outside to look at amber eyes that watched him with a piercing purpose. Now all he had to do was figure out what that purpose was.

He gave her a polite smile. “Not at all, Elaswit.”

The princess’ expression went flat in an instant, empty. No, empty didn’t even come close to defining it. It was void-like, lacking of even emptiness itself.

Well that’s an interesting expression.

Beside Aiden, Valdan covered his mouth with a hand and failed to successfully suppress a laugh.

Aiden shot him a glare. “Not the time, Sir Valdan.”

“Says the man who called the princess by her name,” Valdan chuckled.

Aiden couldn’t believe the usually stoic knight was currently lacking in decorum. It was as if he became a different person when he was out of his armor.

“If I’m not mistaken, she asked me to…”

Aiden let his words trail off as he returned his attention to the princess. By the gods, he’d just realized what he’d done. It was not unheard of for the elite to make such a request in the name of being polite. It was like inviting a friend to join you in a meal out of politeness. The polite response was to refuse the meal with equal politeness.

Nobles did it all the time. You may call me Addlewit.

To which the response would be. Oh no, Lord Anded—or something like that—I wouldn’t dare.

And he had just dared.

“My apologies, Prin—”

Elaswit cut him off with a raised hand. “You have nothing to apologize for, Lord Lacheart. I was the one who asked that you call me by my name in the presence of Sir Valdan alone. I just didn’t think you would be so quick about it.”

The last part she muttered to herself.

Aiden nodded. Unsure of what to do next, he took his renewed interest in the roads outside. He was unlikely to refer to her by name anytime soon.

The trip to the teleportation center was longer than Aiden knew it was meant to be. The carriage followed a roundabout route. Whether it was for safety due to carrying the princess or something else was anyone’s guess.

Conversation within the carriage was scant. Words exchanged were few and in-between. Valdan spoke with Elaswit on the activities of the palace Knights, and she spoke to him on what she knew about the actions of the adventure society.

Aiden learned that the guild had put in a request for Ded, though the princess had referred to him as a random soldier by the name of Ded. Valdan had pondered on it and given Aiden a few looks here and there.

Aiden met none of them.

If the adventure society was looking for Ded, then that was between the society and Ded, for now. Granted, Aiden was going to ask the soldier what the inquiry was about when he got back.

It was good to know that they’d been able to get in touch with Ded in-between his trips for Aiden.

Remembering the task Ded was accomplishing for him made Aiden frown. He hadn’t gotten to see the soldier before this trip, which meant he would spend his time in Naranoff territory with no idea of an update.

When they got to the teleportation center, their carriage slowed down.

The place was a wide clearing close to the center of the capital city. It was a massive stone circle as wide as two houses with countless enchantments carved into the stone and smoothed over. Aiden had used it a few times in his life. Not necessarily this one, but ones in different kingdoms. Once, when they had gone to help the kingdom of Nel Quan defeat a powerful demon that had been terrorizing its outskirts.

Another had been on one of the quests Brandis had sent them on beyond the kingdom, to a ruined city were they had reclaimed an artifact. A massive battle axe Derrick had ended up using since it fit his fighting style best.

The elevated platform of round stone with its countless enchantments was not the teleportation device, however. The teleportation device was the two massive tusk-like erections that flanked it on both sides.

They were as high as a duplex and as wide as an elephant. Actual words were inscribed into them. From what the history of Nastild told, the words were as old as time, inscribed by people who lived so long ago in a civilization so ancient that the meaning of the words had since been lost to the annals of history. There were priests who claimed that they were words written by the gods in the language of the gods once upon a time when they walked Nastild.

Their carriage came to a final stop at the center of the circle.

“Oh,” Valdan said, reaching into his pocket as they came to a stop. “This is for you.”

He held out a folded up piece of paper and Aiden took it with a touch of confusion. He held it in front of him but didn’t open it.

He could feel the princess’ eyes on the paper.

“I ran into Ded this morning,” Valdan said in way of explanation.

Aiden froze, paper still held in his hands. His grip tightened a little.

“Did you read it?” he asked.

Valdan was hesitant.

Yes, you did, Aiden concluded. He couldn’t entirely blame the knight.

He was sure that Valdan had taken his time to persuade Ded to hand it over to him so he could pass it on since they were traveling together.

He probably thought it was important.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

And simply being folded up, it would take a very high level of will power not to have a look at what it was.

“You know the soldier called Ded?” Elaswit asked suddenly.

Aiden nodded, not looking up from the paper.

“And you share correspondence?” she continued. “What would a low ranking soldier need with someone of your position? And I ask from genuine curiosity. I have been told that I am often bland enough to come across as rude and pompous so I feel it is important to point that out.”

Valdan looked at her and she shot him a glare.

“And while I am very capable of those traits,” she continued. “I assure you that this is not it.”

Aiden nodded absently. He wasn’t really paying attention to her words if he was being honest. His mind was more on the result of Ded’s task.

“If I may ask, Lord Lacheart,” Valdan ventured cautiously. “Are those individuals you are searching for?”

Aiden wasn’t sure how to answer the question. The details on the piece of paper meant a lot to him, but they would mean nothing to Valdan. However, he couldn’t help the feeling of secrecy.

There were secrets that could mean nothing to the world but could mean so much to a single person that they would hesitate to share them.

Outside the carriage, enchanters and mages were working on the teleportation device. The mages chanted their spells while the enchanters scribbled away at the ground, adding enchantments to already existing enchantments.

None of them were truly activating the device. Instead, they were preparing the event and setting their destination.

Teleportation magic the likes of which they were about to use did a lot of damage to the environment around it when activated. It burned the ambient mana and scorched almost everything. The job of the enchanters and the mages was to ensure that nothing was destroyed beyond repairs.

“Lord Lacheart.”

Aiden recognized Elaswit’s voice but was already on to what was necessary. He unfolded the piece of paper and looked at its contents.

The words were simple.

Zen.

Shewa.

Tanor.

Vran.

Olstead.

Balt.

Only two of the six names were not struck out. Shewa and Olstead stared right back at him. His contact was yet to find them.

“Brace for impact,” Valdan said. His words were simple and without alarm.

“You should listen, Lord Lacheart,” Elaswit said. “Teleportation magic is not something to be trifled with; it leaves most people disoriented and shaken. I have seen mages who have been left unable to cast a spell for hours after a teleportation.”

Aiden smiled weakly, still looking at the names. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have a talent for magic.”

Outside the carriage someone shouted, “IMPACT!”

Then the world around them erupted in the darkest blue.

…

Lord Naranoff sat at his desk, studying the reports in front of him.

There were a lot, always one person or the other with some complaint or the other. A baker divorcing his wife for infidelity and disagreeing with how the court had handled it. A farmer who believed his neighbor had set wild jepats upon his field to ruin his crops.

What makes these people think just anything can be appealed to me when they disagree with the court.

He’d seen at least four such complaints already and had half the mind to be done with every other complaint. Sadly, he was not that kind of Lord. It was not all the time that one delegated. If he left everything in the hands of delegates he would be a lord who knew nothing of the happenings in his lands.

Also, he did often find interest in the absurdity of some request.

There was a slight knock on his door as he read the documents before it was opened.

“Announcing,” his attendant’s voice came through, “Lady Nella Naranoff of house Naranoff.”

Lord Naranoff sighed and looked up from the parchment in his hand in time to watch his daughter stroll into his office in all mocking haughtiness.

Behind her his attendant stood with an apologetic expression. He was an elderly man with white hair and was already balding at the top. His class [Scholar] had never gotten the chance to grow as the man had never found interest in its skills.

He’d spent most of his early years trying for a combat class, swinging the sword and thrusting the spear when he should’ve been reading books and theorizing. He’d given up on the path for a combat class a little too late.

The best he’d gotten was the spearman skill, and even that never went beyond the fifth percent mastery. Even now, Naranoff couldn’t remember why he gave the man this job.

Pity, maybe.

He motioned at the man, waving aside his apologetic expression. “It’s fine, Kalid.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Kalid gave a bow at the waist before leaving and closing the door behind him.

With Kalid’s absence, Naranoff turned his attention to his daughter seated on one of the chairs in the room.

She wore a nice purple gown, tightened by a corset that enforced her curves, and held her hair up in what he could only describe as a complicated bun. It was the complete presentation of a Lady out and about.

If only she’d agree to put on makeup.

“Is there a reason you’re dressed like a damsel about to go out with her friends?” he asked.

“A lady should always look her best,” Nella answered with fluttering eyes.

Naranoff shook his head with a smile. If only that were true for you.

“If a lady wanted to always look her best,” he countered, “she would remember to apply makeup.”

Nella, his daughter, snorted in a way that was most unladylike. “I hate those things. Always makes me feel like I’m wearing a mask. They make my face heavy.”

“Those are not the words of a lady, Nella.”

“Then think of me as a lady in training, father.” Nella adjusted on the seat and crossed her legs. “You summoned.”

“I did.” Naranoff cleared his front of the unimportant parchments and opened one. It carried the reason for her summoning. “Before we continue, please stop making my attendant announce you in. You are my daughter and he would be more than happy to announce you as my daughter.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” Nella laughed. “Besides, old Kalid loves the attention. He gets to make me feel all important and he gets to have someone look for his trouble. Everyone just treats him like your attendant and forget he’s a human who likes to be bothered from time to time.”

Naranoff had no idea what she was talking about.

“Again,” she said. “You summoned. Is it about Derendof? Has the king released him?”

“Gods no,” Naranoff snorted. “The king still holds him prisoner as per my request.”

Nella let out a low whistle. “Brother will not be happy to learn of that when he’s eventually released.”

“He’ll be fine.” Naranoff waved her words aside. “The gods know I’m tired of the boy as is. Thirty years of age and he still acts like a spoilt brat. But that’s my fault I guess.”

“It is. You and mother spoilt him to rot.”

Naranoff chastised his daughter with a look. “We spoilt you to rot, too. How come you turned out fine?”

Nella cupped her face in both hands and gave him a flattering smile. “I’m just built different, daddy.”

Naranoff shook his head, smiling. “Or maybe you’re just young and will become stupid at thirty. How old are you again? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”

Nella’s flattering smile turned into a scowl and she threw one of the seat cushions close to her at him.

Naranoff ducked on his chair and it flew over his head.

“I’ll have you know that I’m twenty-two,” she said.

“Still?”

“I challenge you to say that when I have a bow and arrow.”

“And I challenge you to have a bow and arrow.”

Both of them kept each other’s gaze for a while, then they started laughing.

“I don’t think most lords are this rude to their daughters,” Nella said. “I know a few of the Ladies that would go bawling their eyes out if you told them this.”

“Well, like you said.” Naranoff made a vague gesture with his hand, a simple twirl. “You’re built different.”

Nella adjusted on the seat, smiling fondly. It was a while before she schooled her expression.

“Why have I been summoned, father?”

Naranoff nodded, expression going as serious as his daughter’s. “It’s about the cave in the south.”

“I thought we’ve already controlled the spread of the demonic mana.”

“We did, but it’s growing again. It’s causing a problem for the adventurers.”

“That’s stupid,” Nella said flatly. “We’ve already instructed them through the society to stay clear of it.”

“We have,” Derenof agreed in a tired voice. “But you know how they are. They keep venturing within in search of a unique skill. You know those things aren’t easy to gain, especially when you already have a class.”

“And they are willing to risk death for it? That’s stupider.”

Naranoff didn’t have anything to say to his daughter on that. Despite being among a handful of noble ladies who liked the gritty side of life—combat and the likes—she remained, ultimately, of noble blood.

She did not understand what it meant to be a true adventurer starting from the bottom of the barrel. They had to claw and scrape and climb their way to the top. Most adventurers never got past the level fifty wall. Most adventurers never got a unique skill. Some adventurers never even hit level 50.

But Naranoff had made sure that every one of his children had gotten a unique skill before reaching level 10. They had not needed to struggle or suffer. They had not needed to risk their lives. They’d had tutors and had been trained in a manner that ensured it. And when they hit the level 50 wall, there would be people there to guide them as there had been for him.

Every noble did it for their children. A noble that did not was already a failure as a noble.

Sometimes he wondered if he should’ve allowed his children suffer, though. His father had made him suffer as a child but nothing beneath the suffering befitting of a noble.

Who am I kidding, no loving parent wants to watch their child suffer.

Nella did not know what suffering was, but she still had character. And not everybody had to suffer to have character.

“You’re doing that thing again, father,” Nella’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Naranoff shuffled a stack of papers, simply looking for something to do with his hands. “What thing, child?”

“That thing where you have a whole internal monologue.”

“No monologue.” Naranoff dropped the stack of papers back. “As I was saying. The adventurers continue to be—in your words—stupid, in search of a unique skill. And despite the society’s warnings, they will continue to be.”

“That’s why I said the guild should just tell them it’s demonic mana in the cave,” Nella scoffed. “That will get them to stay away. The gods know everybody avoids the thing like a plague.”

“And rightly so,” Naranoff said, pointing a finger at her. “Only a fool sees demonic mana and runs to it.”

“Then tell them.”

Naranoff shook his head. “We cannot. It will cause panic. In moments, the whole town will hear of it and the resulting panic will stifle the town’s economy. The reason you’re here is because we intend on resolving this issue once and for all.”

Nella’s brows furrowed. “How?”

“You.” Naranoff folded a piece of paper very neatly. “You, my dearest daughter, will be going to investigate the cave.”

…

Elaswit watched Aiden as the mages and enchanters worked whatever they had to work outside the carriage to ensure a smooth and less harmful teleportation.

For those inside the carriage, the only thing they needed to worry about was appearing where they were supposed to appear. There were points in history where people were known to appear in the middle of nowhere during a teleport of this level.

Sometimes the mages and enchanters got it wrong. Sometimes the receiving teleportation space wasn’t calibrated properly to receive them. Sometimes it was something else entirely.

She’d heard from her father once upon a time that they’d lost an entire company of mages and enchanters during one of their trips when she was a child.

Some mage or enchanter had failed to do their work aptly and the rebound form the teleportation had practically fried the mana in a very wide radius. He had left the story at a simple end. The group had died.

It was only when Elaswit was older that her mother had given her the gory details. The grotesque forms, the molded and melted flesh. There had also been something about the walking dead but her mother had been quick to point out that the last part was just a joke.

In front of her, Aiden Lacheart was staring down at a piece of paper as if it held the secrets to his world in it. His eyes were serious yet scared. She could see a mix of satisfaction and worry in them as he contemplated whatever it made him contemplate.

It piqued her curiosity to know what news could possibly shake a boy who had only been in this world for a month so greatly. A simple piece of paper had never been more enigmatic in her life.

“Brace for impact,” Valdan said to Aiden. His words were simple and without alarm.

Aiden didn’t even flinch.

From the little Elaswit had learned of the young lord so far, he wasn’t one for politics. He was simple and straight to the point, much like her father. It was no wonder he favored the young lord.

There had also been the thing with him calling her by name. She still wasn’t sure if it was an ignorance towards decorum or his way of telling her that he was not from her world and was not interested in any games the people of her status liked to play.

Aiden’s continued uninterrupted attention to his piece of paper was becoming worrying. If the boy did not pay attention to himself and prepare for the effects that would come, they could well have him vomiting all over the carriage when they arrive at their destination.

Elaswit had seen stronger men than him puke all over the place on their first teleportation.

“You should listen, Lord Lacheart,” she told him. “Teleportation magic is not something to be trifled with. It leaves most people disoriented and shaken. I have seen mages who have been left unable to cast a spell for hours after a teleportation.”

None of her words were a lie.

Aiden smiled weakly, still looking at the piece of paper. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have a talent for magic.”

Outside the carriage someone shouted, “IMPACT!”

Elaswit took a deep calming breath. Aiden continued to look at his piece of paper.

Maybe I should’ve added the vomiting part.

Then the world around them erupted in the darkest blue.

Elaswit’s senses vanished, taken from her by whatever powerful magic ran through the stones that ensured such a massive long distance teleportation.

Elaswit grew blind, deaf, and mute. Her world was nothing. It was a disorienting feeling. Up was down and down was up. She thought with her stomach and her brain rumbled from a lack of food.

The soles of her feet felt clammy and she balled them into fists and released them. Through it all she focused on her breathing.

In through the eyes, out through the navel.

How she hated teleportation.

Then she crashed back into her seat. Her body jerked as if under the recoil of blasting a powerful spell and it took her a few seconds to reorient herself.

Did I ask myself to breathe through my eyes and out my navel? She groaned, remembering her own words to herself.

If there was one thing she hated about teleportation, it was how stupid it made her feel once it was over.

The few seconds she took to reorient herself were already time spent. She couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Reaching under her seat with her foot, she pulled out a pan and kicked it in front of Aiden, prepared for this very moment.

She knew the pride of men that led them to stupid acts of bravado. Aiden Lacheart probably thought he could withstand the effects of the teleportation or simply wanted to test his mettle against it.

The outcome was obvious.

“I'll be happy if you can—”

Elaswit’s words died on her lips at the sight in front of her.

Valdan was a panicked mess hovering over Aiden. His hands kept reaching out to the young lord yet never touching him.

“Lord Lacheart,” he said with genuine worry. “What’s wrong, Lord Lacheart? What happened? Can you hear me? Where does it hurt?”

Worse than his words was Aiden. The young Lord was in a bad state.

Aiden was kneeling on the carriage floor, paper crumpled in his fist, balled tightly as if holding on for dear life. He was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily like a man on the verge of death.

Blood dripped from his nostrils, mouth, and ear as he fought to gather himself. More blood stained his clothes.

His mana and stamina levels had to be at rock bottom from what she was seeing.

In everything Elaswit knew about teleportation magic, this was not a registered sign or symptom. The only physical effect was nausea and vomit. The magical effect was skills not working properly for brief periods of time.

This… this is not it.

Valdan was already calling out of the carriage for a health potion.

Aiden’s breathing slowed, but his trembling went nowhere. Where he had once stared at a piece of paper, he now stared at nothing.

When Aiden finally looked up from the ground, she found he was also bleeding from his eyes.

“What the hell was that?” he stuttered in terror.

Elaswit left her seat to kneel down in front of him. She wished she had some kind of healing magic, something to help him. But she did not.

“What was what?” she asked, but he didn’t seem to be listening to her.

What was happening made no sense. Teleportation was never this bad.

Aiden's bleeding eyes trembled in terrified eye sockets. Elaswit had never heard more confusing words than the words Aiden uttered next.

“I,” he said quietly, “can’t fight that.”