Two days have passed since our encounter with the adventurers, and there have been no further intrusions. DP-7 continues to monitor the road, observing similar groups of people traveling as before. I finally received a response from my probes, providing me a comprehensive map of this world. From my gauntlet, a three-dimensional hologram of Aranthia shimmers into view. The live video feed from the probes I launched into the upper atmosphere beams the planet back to me in real-time. It spins slowly, revealing the vastness of this strange world. I marvel at how large it truly is, how the landmasses—three sprawling continents—are held together by the endless oceans that wrap around them like a great, living sea. Every detail, from the tallest mountain to the smallest island, is illuminated by the hologram's glow.

I'm awestruck by the sheer complexity of this planet, by the diversity of life and the many different kingdoms that have somehow found their place within this vast landscape. It's all so foreign to me, yet so strangely captivating.

My attention is drawn first to the large continent to the west, where towering mountains stretch across the northern reaches like jagged spines, their peaks lost in a swirl of cloud and snow. Within these mountains, I see vast networks of tunnels carved into the rock, their entrances flanked by massive stone statues. The people there have built their homes deep within the earth, their cities hidden beneath layers of stone, visible only by the grand archways that lead into their subterranean world. Forges glow like embers in the dark, lighting the halls with a faint orange glow. These people themselves, stocky and bearded, go about their work, hammering away at anvils or tending to the glowing fires within the forges. These must be the dwarfs. Their banners, deep blue and gold, hang from the walls of their fortresses, displaying symbols of hammers and axes, signifying their craftsmanship and their pride.

To the south, the plains of this western continent stretch out endlessly, a patchwork of fields and villages connected by winding dirt paths and stone roads. Villages dot the landscape, their homes simple and practical, built from stone and timber with thatched roofs that rise like small hills. The roads are well-traveled, bustling with activity as merchants guide their wagons filled with goods toward the larger cities. Farmers work their fields, harvesting crops beneath the warm sun, while hunters stalk through the forests, their eyes sharp as they track down prey. Soldiers march along the roads, their armor gleaming in the sunlight, their banners flying high—deep red with gold emblems, their insignias unfamiliar but clearly marking their allegiance to different kingdoms.

The largest and most impressive kingdom of man resides on the eastern shore of the Western Continent, its walls towering above the surrounding landscape like a fortress meant to withstand any siege. The stone buildings rise tall and proud within the city walls, their structures a fusion of medieval and classical architecture. Tall spires and domed roofs dominate the skyline, their surfaces gleaming in the sunlight. The streets are narrow and winding, lined with houses made from stone and timber, their walls adorned with statues of warriors and mythological figures. The harbor is massive, filled with ships of all sizes, their wooden hulls creaking as they bob in the waves. The ships are intricate, their figureheads carved from wood in the likeness of gods, heroes, and beasts. Some are large and imposing, built for long journeys across the ocean, while others are smaller and swifter, designed for quick voyages along the coast. Aqueducts snake across the landscape, bringing fresh water into the city from the mountains, their towering arches casting shadows across the fields of crops that stretch out beyond the city walls.

Among these plains, I spot an unusual structure—walled and ancient, rising from the earth like a relic of a long-forgotten era. It resembles an old temple, its surface weathered and cracked from centuries of exposure to the elements. Surrounding this temple is a bustling city, filled with activity. Merchants, soldiers, and common folk swarm around it, as though it were some kind of religious site or place of deep significance. It's strange, seeing such a grand and ancient structure surrounded by the bustle of a modern city. I wonder briefly what purpose it serves. Perhaps it's a temple, though the activity around it suggests something more. Whatever it is, the people here revere it.

Further west, near the cliffs overlooking the sea, another elven kingdom comes into view. The architecture here is more formal, the towers rising from the cliffs like graceful fingers reaching toward the heavens. The elves of this kingdom have crafted their homes from stone, their walls adorned with intricate carvings of animals, plants, and stars. Their banners, green and silver, flutter in the sea breeze, displaying symbols of trees and moons, hinting at their deep connection to both nature and the stars. Their ships, sleek and agile, sail across the ocean, their sails made from enchanted silk that catches even the faintest breeze. These elves are sailors and warriors, guardians of the sea.

In the heart of the western continent, where the forests grow thick and tangled, lies another elven kingdom, this one unlike any other. The trees here are massive, their trunks as wide as the largest buildings, their branches spreading out like canopies over the forest below. It's in these trees that the elves have built their city, their homes woven into the very fabric of the forest. Bridges of woven vines connect the tree homes, allowing the elves to move gracefully from one level of the city to another. The city is alive with activity, the elves moving with an elegance that seems almost unnatural. In the center of the city stands a colossal tree, its trunk wider than any structure I've seen before. Carved from the tree itself is what appears to be a castle, its towers and halls formed from the living wood. This must be the elven capital, a place of great power and ancient magic. A large temple glows with an ethereal light, its silver spires reaching up toward the sky, casting long shadows across the city. The elves are peaceful here, their connection to the natural world evident in every aspect of their lives.

Moving south along a land bridge that connects the western and southern continents, I spot roads made of stone winding their way across the landscape. These roads are bustling with life—merchants in wagons, soldiers in armor, and families on foot all travel along the same paths, their destinations unclear but their purpose evident. The merchants' wagons are laden with goods, their wheels creaking over the stone as they make their way to the larger cities. Soldiers march in tight formations, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight, their eyes focused on the road ahead. Children run alongside their parents, their laughter mingling with the clatter of hooves and wheels. As I watch, I notice a small encampment of soldiers, their tents arranged in neat rows, their banners flying high—deep blue with silver stars, likely marking their allegiance to a nearby kingdom.

Across the oceans, ships of all sizes and shapes sail the seas, connecting the kingdoms of Aranthia in a vast network of trade and commerce. The ships are built from wood and sail, their designs varied and unique, reflecting the culture and craftsmanship of the people who built them. Small, sleek ships dart between the islands and along the coasts, while large, imposing vessels carry goods and passengers across the vast distances of the oceans.

As the hologram shifts, the southern continent comes into view. The landscape here is lush and teeming with life, the jungles dense and green, their canopies thick with vines, moss, and leaves. The kingdom of the beast folk lies hidden within these jungles, their homes built high in the trees, suspended from the branches like nests. The beast folk are a diverse people, their forms varying from feline to canine to avian, their movements agile and quick. Their city blends seamlessly into the jungle, with wooden platforms and rope bridges connecting their homes. Rivers flow through the jungle, feeding into lakes that sparkle beneath the sunlight. The beast folk banners are earthy and untamed, their colors blending with the natural hues of the forest.

In the eastern reaches of the southern continent, the land becomes rocky and arid, with tall mountain ranges rising from the earth like jagged teeth. The dragon folk have made their home here, their kingdom built into the cliffs of the mountains. The buildings are carved from the red stone, their surfaces smooth and imposing. The dragon folk themselves are large and powerful, their bodies covered in thick scales, their eyes glowing with an inner fire. Their banners are black and crimson, their symbols resembling flames and wings. The dragon folk ships are sleek and dark, their sails black and sharp prows cutting through the water like blades.

In the heart of the southern continent, deep within the jungle, I spot another ancient temple, its walls covered in moss and vines, its surface weathered by centuries of exposure to the elements. Surrounding the temple is a bustling city, filled with activity. Beast folk, man, elfs, orcs, dragon folk, and dwarfs along with merchants move through the streets, their goods piled high on wagons drawn by strange creatures with long legs and thick hides. This temple is larger than the one in the western continent, its stone walls towering over the surrounding buildings. It is clear that this temple holds great significance for the people here, though what exactly it represents is unclear.

In the farthest southern reaches of this continent, the jungles gives way to snow-covered mountains. The air is cold and harsh, the landscape dominated by icy peaks and glaciers. Here, life clings to the mountainsides, with only the hardiest creatures able to survive in the freezing temperatures. Beasts with thick fur and large claws roam the snowfields, searching for food among the sparse vegetation.

As the hologram continues to spin, the eastern continent comes into view, its deserts stretching out like a golden sea. At the foot of the mountains, I see fortresses carved into the cliffs, their walls thick and brutal, their gates adorned with jagged symbols. The people here are fierce and warlike, their bodies clad in thick armor, their weapons sharp and heavy. Their skin is a hue of dark browns and black, standing tall and muscular. Must be the orcs. Their banners flutter in the wind—black and red, with symbols of axes and skulls, marking them as warriors.

To the east, nestled between the mountains, I see a massive city, its architecture different from anything I've seen so far. The buildings are tall and slender, their rooftops domed and covered in gold and copper, their walls smooth and white. Arched doorways and tiled courtyards give the city an elegance and refinement that contrasts with the harsh desert surroundings. The harbor is filled with ships, their sails intricate and colorful, their designs more ornate than the ships I've seen elsewhere. The banners of this kingdom are deep purple and gold, their symbols intricate and refined, denoting royalty and nobility. The inhabitants there are mostly man though their skin tone is a darker, atoned by the desert life and sun.

In the middle of the desert, I spot another ancient temple, its walls smooth and polished, rising from the sands like a relic of a lost civilization. Surrounding the temple is a city of stone, its streets crowded with merchants, soldiers, and common folk. The temple's banners are blue and silver, their symbols unfamiliar but clearly important to the people who live here. This temple feels older than the others, its walls worn by the harsh desert winds.

Far to the north lies a mass of ice and snow connecting to the northern ends of both the eastern and western continents. This frozen wasteland is desolate, with little life to be seen. The creatures that do live here are strange and foreign to me—massive white-furred beasts with large claws and powerful bodies roam the icy plains, while smaller, black-and-white creatures waddle across the ice, diving into the frigid waters to hunt for fish. On the shores of a rocky island, more of these creatures bask in the weak sunlight, their sleek bodies glistening as they laze about on the ice. The seas around this frozen land are teeming with massive creatures that breach the surface of the water, their black-and-white forms cutting through the waves with ease.

In the center of this frozen landmass, I spot yet another ancient temple, though this one is far more remote than the others. The walls are thick with ice, the surface cracked and weathered by the freezing temperatures. An encampment surrounds the temple, though it is much smaller than those in the other regions. A few tents and campfires dot the landscape, the banners of the encampment fluttering weakly in the cold wind. It's clear that this temple is not as accessible as the others, though it still holds some significance for those who have braved the harsh conditions to reach it.

Finally, the islands south of the eastern Continent come into view, their shores dotted with wooden structures, their surfaces covered in dense jungle and rocky cliffs. One of these islands is home to another of these mysterious temples, its walls carved from stone, its surface covered in moss and vines. The city surrounding the temple is smaller than the others, but still bustling with activity. The banners here are green and gold, their symbols resembling the flora and fauna of the islands.

As I watch the hologram spin, I can't help but feel a deep sense of wonder at the sheer variety of life and civilization that exists on this planet. The biomes shift and change with every continent, yet life thrives in even the harshest environments. From the lush jungles of the southern continent to the frozen tundra of the north, the kingdoms and cities of Aranthia have adapted to the land in ways that are both beautiful and awe-inspiring. The ancient temples, scattered across the land like relics of a long-lost civilization, only add to the mystery of this world.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I study these strange temples with particular interest. Each one is different from the next, yet all of them are surrounded by cities and bustling with activity. Whether they serve as religious centers or something else entirely, I cannot say, but it is clear that they hold great significance for the people of Aranthia. The more I observe, the more questions I have—questions about the origins of these temples, about the civilizations that built them, and about the world itself. There is so much more to learn, so much more to explore. Aranthia is alive, a place of wonders and mysteries, its kingdoms teeming with life, its cities filled with activity, and its lands rich with history and secrets waiting to be uncovered.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Aranthia is primitive—there's no mistaking that. Its sprawling kingdoms stretch far across the landscape, but they lack the imposing grandeur of galactic civilizations. Instead of towering skyscrapers or bustling spaceports, I see stone castles—fortified, yes, but rudimentary. Around them, small villages cluster together, connected by winding dirt roads that meander through the countryside. Carriages, pulled by hooved beasts, slowly trundle along these paths. It's surreal—no speeder bikes, no starships, no hovercraft zipping across the horizon. Just the steady rhythm of hooves on the ground, the wheels creaking under the weight of supplies and passengers. A world untouched by modernity.

I shift the angle of the display on my gauntlet, zooming in on a military encampment nestled deep in a valley. It's large, teeming with activity, yet primitive by galactic standards. Soldiers, elfs it seems by their long, pointy ears, move between rows of tents, their armor glinting in the sunlight. Iron swords, shields, and bows hang from racks, while blacksmiths hammer away at crude forges. The tools of war here are basic, forged in the heat of flame and sweat. No blasters, no vibroblades—just steel and grit. And yet, there's something admirable about their simplicity, their resilience. These people are fighting in a way that the galaxy has long forgotten.

Then, something changes. My eyes catch it—magic. It weaves itself into the scene, adding an unexpected dimension. I watch as an elven mage, her long fingers tracing glowing symbols in the air, releases a bolt of energy that arcs like lightning through the sky. It's mesmerizing. I flick the controls, scanning the camp further, and see more. Beast folk shamans, invoking the spirits of the earth, cause the ground to tremble and heal their wounded. A towering orc, his presence commanding, raises his hand and summons a wall of flame to shield his comrades from an unseen threat. It's not just raw power—it's a connection, a deep and ancient bond with the forces of this world.

And it's not confined to the battlefield. As I shift the display again, I spot a nearby village. There, a human woman gestures to lift heavy stones into place, effortlessly repairing a crumbled wall. Children gather around a mage, chasing after shimmering illusions of glowing animals as their laughter fills the air. Magic isn't just a weapon here—it's life. It breathes into every corner of their world, shaping their existence in ways I've never seen before. It's awe-inspiring, and terrifying. These beings, untouched by technology, use something far more intrinsic, more organic.

I zoom out, turning my focus to the mines far from the encampments. They're so small, so humble, barely noticeable scars on the land. Miners chip away at the earth with primitive tools, their progress slow and deliberate. There are no massive machines, no endless rows of conveyor belts, no signs of vast industrial excavation. These mines, as crude as they are, respect the land in a way the galaxy never has. It's clear—these operations are far too small, too unsophisticated, to be Imperial in origin. They're extracting resources, but without the ravenous hunger for expansion that fuels the Empire. There's no destructive ambition here.

Relief washes over me as I observe this world. No Imperial forces. No Star Destroyers hovering ominously in orbit, no TIE Fighters screaming through the sky. There are no spaceports, no towering factories belching smoke into the sky, no excavators tearing apart the earth. For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm on a world that's free. Truly free. It hasn't been swallowed by the galaxy's insatiable desire for power and control. This place is pure—untouched by the relentless march of industry, free of the fear and oppression I've grown so accustomed to.

I feel a strange sense of joy, something I haven't felt in a long time. It's not just that I'm free from the Empire's reach—I'm free in a way I never imagined. I don't have to hide who I am here, because there's no one hunting me, no one ready to throw me into servitude. For the first time in my life, I have a second chance—to begin again, on my own terms.

My thoughts drift to Lyra. I imagine her here, in this untouched world. She'd be showcasing droids or mechanical wonders these people never could have dreamed of. I can almost see it now—the amazement in their eyes as she introduces them to the marvels of a galaxy far beyond their understanding. But she's not here. A pang of grief settles deep in my chest. She's not here to witness any of this, to enjoy the freedom this world offers.

I sigh, a weight hanging on my breath. I won't waste this chance, I silently vow. This world, this opportunity—this is my second chance. I will set a foothold on Aranthia, build something new, and honor the life I've been given. I'll make it count—for her, and for myself. I zoom back out, watching as Aranthia's untouched landscapes stretch across the display. This world is raw, unpolished, and free. And in its freedom, I find hope.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

I pinpoint our own location. We are in the center of the western continent, not far from a large city. In fact, the direction of the city is where the three adventurers had headed. According to Eldrin's input, this city must be of man, so Apollo and I shouldn't have any problems fitting in. I then turned to the confiscated gear.

Draping the leather armor of the rogue over my chest plate, I find it conceals everything perfectly. The supple material hugs the contours of my gear, making me less conspicuous. I slip the leather gloves over my gauntlets, relieved they're large enough to cover them completely. After some quick adjustments, I create slits in the gloves that open when I engage my gauntlets. Testing the hologram display on my wrist, I watch the map of Aranthia flicker to life. The missile launcher and blasters retract smoothly. Everything functions as it should.

Next, I move the holster for my Malorian Arms 3516 to my lower back, ensuring it's concealed beneath the cloak. My Glie-44 blaster, hidden within my boot, requires some adjustments since the rogue's boots are far too small. After modifying my own, they now fit the rugged, worn look of this world. I drape the rogue's white cloak over my body, pulling the hood low to cast a shadowy void over my face.

As I reach for my lightsaber, I hesitate. This weapon is a part of me—an extension of my will. But here, on this primitive world, its presence would draw far too much attention. Carefully, I conceal it beneath the cloak, positioning it where it can be easily accessed but out of sight.

Apollo watches me closely, its photoreceptors flickering with curiosity. "Ryu, why are you putting on their clothes?"

I glance at it as I adjust the cloak, tucking the sword away. "In our current attire, we'd stand out too much. You saw how that woman reacted when she saw you—she screamed and ran. If we want to blend in, we need to look the part."

Apollo studies me for a moment. "And what about me? I doubt I can pass as anything but a droid."

I consider this and then spot the knight's armor among the confiscated gear. "Why don't you try the knight's armor? It'll cover up most of your, let's say, metallic features."

Apollo picks up the pieces of armor, its photoreceptors scanning the materials. "You think I can pull off the look of a knight?"

I chuckle, continuing to adjust the straps of my cloak. "We don't exactly have a lot of options. Besides, in that armor, you might look more imposing than most knights we've seen so far."

Apollo sighs mechanically but begins donning the chainmail first, pulling on the knight's chainmail pants and shirt. The fine interlocking metal rings fit snugly over its frame, producing a soft clink with every movement. Then, it starts strapping on the armor plates, piece by piece. The metal is intricate, with detailed etchings and a fur-lined cape that adds a regal, intimidating look. The skull-shaped pauldrons and the great sword strapped across its back complete the transformation.

Apollo, now fully clad in the armor, glances at me. "This armor isn't resistant to blaster fire, you know."

I smirk, tightening the straps of my boots. "Lucky for us, this world doesn't have blasters. Their weapons are primitive—swords, shields, maybe some magic. You'll be fine."

Apollo stands, adjusting the great sword on its back. "Are you sure this is convincing?" it asks, its tone uncertain as it looks down at the armor.

I step back and take a good look at it. "Impressive," I nod. "You could pass for a knight from any kingdom we've seen on the map."

At first glance, no one would ever guess there's a droid underneath that armor. The chainmail and plating conceal Apollo's mechanical frame, making it appear as a fully armored, battle-hardened knight. With Apollo now resembling a proper knight, I glance at my own appearance, pulling my hood lower and ensuring my lightsaber and blasters remain hidden beneath the cloak. We're as ready as we can be.

I rummage through the rest of the confiscated gear and find pouches filled various metal coins. "These are bronze, silver, and gold," Apollo explains, identifying the metals. I pocket the coins and find pouches of dried fish, fruit, and cheese, which I stash in my messenger bag. We're disguised, equipped, and prepared to blend in. Now, we'll see if our new looks can keep us from drawing unwanted attention in this strange world.

As I ready the speeder bike, Apollo stops me. "Are we heading to the same city those adventurers were heading to?" it asks.

I confirm. Apollo then raises a valid concern. "You made them think they were ambushed by bandits. What will happen if we come across those adventurers? They would recognize their gear and accuse us of being the thieves."

I frown, realizing the oversight. "You're right. We need to change our appearance."

"Fortunately, we have some paint," Apollo suggests. "And I can reshape the armor."

We set to work. The cloak gets painted black, while Apollo uses its strength and mechanical knowhow to reshape the armor. It removes the skull pauldrons and reshapes the shield into a large pauldron. When it's finished, Apollo's appearance is transformed. The armor now fits snugly, without the skulls, and the black cloak gives me a more menacing look. The great sword remains, adding to the imposing figure Apollo has become.

Apollo now stands before me, looking much like a knight ready for battle, minus the skull decorations. The reshaped armor and red cloak create a formidable presence, perfectly suited for blending into this medieval world.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

I relaunch the probes but keep them in low orbit. This way, we can observe our surroundings via the hologram and get an up-to-date map. Their fuel cells can be recharged through solar power, so they can remain active for a very long time.

After one last check of our equipment and gear, Apollo and I hop on the speeder bike and head out. We avoid the main road to not gather attention and stop just a few kilometers from the city. We conceal the speeder bike under a large tree, covering it with foliage and large branches, then embark on the path.

As we walk, we pass by several people. One is a farmer on a wooden wagon, hauling bundles of a golden crop that sways gently with each bump. The animal pulling the wagon is sturdy, with a thick mane and large hooves clopping rhythmically on the dirt path.

Next, a man clad in leather armor rides by swiftly. A bow is strapped behind his back, with a quiver full of arrows and a messenger bag bouncing against his side. The animal he rides is powerful, with muscular legs and a sleek body, its hooves kicking up dust as it gallops.

We also encounter a squad of armored knights marching by in formation. Their polished armor glints in the sunlight, each knight holding a long spear and a round shield emblazoned with a crest. Their movements are synchronized, a testament to their discipline and training.

Despite the groups we pass, we manage to avoid drawing much attention, save for the occasional glance. As we get closer to the city, the activity on the road increases. Merchants with carts filled with goods, travelers with heavy packs, and more armored figures on patrol make the path busier. The air is filled with the sounds of chatter, hooves, and wagon wheels, creating a bustling atmosphere as we approach the city.

Apollo and I stand before the city gates, observing the line of people waiting to enter. The queue is composed of various individuals: merchants with carts laden with goods, farmers with livestock, travelers, and families. The guards at the gate are vigilant, dressed in sturdy armor with tabards bearing the city's emblem. They let people in one at a time, questioning each then letting them pass.

When it's our turn, we step forward. A guard with a stern expression and a spear in hand looks us over. "Identification badges, please," he says in a commanding tone.

Apollo and I exchange a quick glance. I was about to use a force mind trick on him when the guard continues talking. "Ah, I see you don't have identification badges. You must be new here. That's not a problem. To enter the city, you'll need to buy a temporary visa. They cost ten copper each."

The guard gestures towards a small room within the gate. "You can acquire your identification badges at the city hall or the Adventurers Guild. The visa is only good for one day. If you wish to stay longer without an identification badge, you'll have to buy another temporary visa or risk serving a week in prison."

He ushers us into the room. The interior is simple but functional, with wooden beams supporting the ceiling and a few benches along the walls. The most notable feature is a large wooden desk at the far end, where an imposing figure sits. The man behind the desk is introduced by the guard as Captain Adolf, head of the southern gate guard.

Captain Adolf is a man of medium build but exudes an air of authority. His hair is short and graying at the temples, and his eyes are sharp, missing nothing. He wears a well-maintained uniform with a badge of rank pinned to his chest. His demeanor suggests he has little patience for nonsense.

"Newcomers," he grunts, not looking up from his paperwork. "Step forward and let's get this done quickly."

We approach the desk, and he finally looks up, his gaze assessing. "Names?" he asks curtly.

"Ryu Chikara," I reply, then motion to Apollo. "And this is Apollo Steelton."

He nods, jotting down the names quickly. "That'll be ten copper each for the temporary visas. Pay up."

I count out twenty copper pieces and hand them to him. He drops them into a small chest and begins preparing the visas. His hands move swiftly, filling out the necessary details on small parchment slips.

"Here," he says, handing us the completed visas. "These are good for one day. Make sure you get your identification badges before it expires. Welcome to the city of Arroyo."