11. A Novel That Nadiras Some Apadoses

Whether it’s because we’re in a ‘nice neighborhood’ or because we’ve cleansed the area of the Dragon’s influence, our westerly travels through the forest is a pleasant one, free from elemental disturbance or much in the way of monster attacks. A few Goblins and Giant Spiders (scary-looking but also very squishy) here and there, but nothing that would trouble a celebrated Elf Mage and her STSG-wielding companion.

Remember how I said Leto didn’t seem interested in ‘looting’ the monsters? I thought that might’ve had to do with the time-sensitive nature of the Dragon quest, but here, even as we take a leisurely stroll through the forest, she just leaves the Goblin and Spider carcasses be.

I wonder about this. Surely, even dirty Goblin rags or—I dunno—spider glands or something could be sold for spare change? Why don’t the adventurers of this world pinch, hoard, and scavenge for every scrap? Are they stupid?

But no. I soon see that normal RPG logic doesn’t apply here. Or maybe it does, depending on which RPG you’re playing.

I see it on the first evening as we settle in for the night. Leto has set up camp in a clearing where we just dispatched a gang of Goblins. I question her taste in camping locations, but maybe the benefits outweigh the view of Goblin carcasses in our background.

Except… the carcasses don’t stay in the background. One moment they’re there, then the next, they’re not.

I sit up in alarm, reaching for the STSG as I do. I don’t know what made the dead Goblins disappear. I certainly didn’t hear or see anything that might be construed as corpse-snatchers.

Leto looks up from piling firewood and says, “Mafanos?”, which I understand to mean “Problem?”. I gesture in turn at the ground where even the Goblin’s blood spatters have unspattered themselves. A corpse-snatcher and a crime scene cleaner?

My ‘question’ is so out of left field in this world that it takes Leto a few seconds to even realize what I’m asking. She then takes on this perplexed look, like this has finally stumped her. How do I explain to this idiot what happens to monsters when they die?

Our next conversation, conducted on empty stomachs and without much in the way of visual aids, is a confusing and ultimately unsatisfying one (probably for both sides). My best guess is that there’s no corpse-snatching or crime-scene-cleaning involved at all. Dead monsters in this world simply disappear without a trace, and that’s just the way it is.

“Mars Carver?” I ask, meaning, what happens to me if I die? Leto laughs and shakes her head. I assume this means my corpse would stick around and decompose like any sane, self-respecting corpse would. “Leto Iriden?” Same answer.

“Dragon?”

This one elicits a slight frown. A twist on a question that was already difficult to answer. I’m being a little mean, because I already know the Dragon situation to be different to the Goblins.

I mean, actual proof of the Dragon’s ‘permanence’ is currently embedded in the hilt of my sword. I’ve also seen the villagers make a few trips to and from the cave, each time bringing back carts full of Dragon parts, which I have to assume will boost Kanata’s economy for years to come (and that’s how you do it, Canada!).

It takes her a while, but Leto eventually gives her answer, with an unmistakable note of awe.

“Dragon aloàs Novellen. Novellen Nadira Apados.”

I sit with it a while before I nod slowly. There’s no way for me to nail down the specifics, but I think I sort of get the gist. And the gist is… both disturbing and fascinating.

First, ‘Nadira Apados’. I definitely remember that phrase, repeated by the grumpy trinketeer to warn Leto about me. But ‘Novellen’ is a word I’d never heard before, and the way it’s used here makes me think it’s at least tangentially (maybe even directly) related to Reliken.

Funny thing is, Novellen is yet another word in Quebecois High Valyrian that sounds suspiciously like English. Come on, you’re thinking the same thing right?

Novel? Used in place of Relic? Seems like way too appropriate a contrast to be purely a coincidence.

If I’m interpreting this correctly, big bad monsters like Dragons are Novellen and gun-toting swordsmen like me are Reliken. And we can both be ‘Nadira Apados’ depending on whom you ask. Also, we’re both ‘real’, unlike the critters that just go away upon death?

It’s all a bit too mysterious for my outlander sensibilities. Don’t get me wrong; I am super curious about it, but I figure I’ve also got plenty of time to learn the language and dive into all this lore myself. For now, I’ve got campfire stew to slurp on and an Elf Girl to chat up.

Day Two. Day Two is when I learn exactly why we only packed for two days’ worth of travel.

As Leto leads me further west, we eventually come to a part of the forest that’s dense, dark, and damp. Real ‘ancient forest’ vibes. Subconsciously, I grip the STSG’s hilt tighter, expecting another boss fight at any moment.

And we do get one… except it’s not the kind of boss I would’ve expected.

The thickets finally widen somewhat into a path of sorts, with signs that someone or multiple someones pass through here regularly. And at the end of this path is a… door? Mirror? Portal?

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The moss-laden structure is a flat, framed panel that stands on a metallic platform, about two meters tall and one wide. It’s obviously man-made and surprisingly (eerily) modern in appearance. No, ‘modern’ isn’t even the right word. It’s…

… Futuristic. Like, if I saw this thing on Planet Earth, my first thought would be I’d stumbled onto a movie set. My tenth thought, after nine failed attempts at bargaining and rationalization, would be that I’d discovered evidence of an alien invasion.

The aforementioned ‘metal’ that serves as the frame and platform—at least the parts I can see and feel around all the moss—is off-white in color with a texture reminiscent of carbon composites. Definitely not anything that belongs in a world with Elves, swords, and sorcery. Not to my mind, anyway.

The ‘panel’ that makes up the bulk of the structure is thin like paper yet sturdy like tempered glass. Its surface has this… mercurial quality, like I can’t quite pinpoint what I’m seeing at any one moment. Solid glass? Gossamer silk? The… the very universe itself?

Alright, that last one was a bit tongue-in-cheek, but you get my point. The whole thing is mysterious AF and decidedly not like anything I’ve ever laid eyes on—in real, virtual, or Isekai worlds.

“Portal.”

I spin to gape at Leto, shocked but not surprised. The Elf Mage herself said the word so casually, like she was just commenting on the weather.

How many of these English crossover words are we going to get? And also, holy shit! This thing is an actual Portal?

Sure enough, Leto sticks her hand into the panel, and the fucking thing gives way like it’s fully liquid. The entire structure ‘whirs to life’ with mechanical churning, and the panel itself—which I’ma go ahead and call a ‘screen’ from now on—lights up with an image that’s both impossible and more real than anything else it was ‘showing’ before.

Polished marble floor. Stone walls and pillars with fancy engravings. It’s… a room… probably inside a castle with proper fantasy vibes, not like this alien Portal bullshit.

Given my basic media literacy, coupled with the undeniable reality of my present situation, I’m able to forgo the nine bargaining attempts and skip straight to Thought #10: ah, Elf Girl expects me to step into this alien Portal bullshit so it can transport me to this fantasy-ass castle room.

It turns out I’m only half-correct. Remember that ‘boss fight’ I mentioned earlier? Well, it’s this. This Portal is my boss fight.

And I say my, because apparently, Leto is exempt from it. She unsticks her hand from the liquid glass and beckons for me to try the same.

I do, and… listen, I just gotta get this off my chest. Note to First Locals everywhere: if you’re going to walk someone through baby’s first Magical Portal Trial Realm, please warn them about it first? Simp or no, this might legitimately be the last time I fully trust Leto Iriden when she gets me to try a new thing.

I stick my hand into the screen, intending to go just forearm-deep like my Elf Example. But, as it turns out, I had no choice in the matter.

Next thing I feel is my whole body getting squished like I’m the subject in YouTube’s sickest hydraulic press experiment. The sensation is thankfully brief, and I’m spat back out onto solid ground, along with all of my bits and my trusty STSG.

My gratitude for not having been turned into human mush is short-lived. Because as soon as I open my eyes, I see that I’ve been transported into some weird sci-fi getup.

It’s a—corridor is probably the best way to describe it. A fairly wide passageway that leads towards another ‘Portal’ at the end of it, one that’s exactly like the one in the woods, except no moss and all shiny like it just came fresh from the Portal factory.

The floors and walls all around me have this smooth, glassy consistency to them while also giving off a bluish hue. That dim blueness is the only light source inside the corridor, which makes me feel like I’ve just walked into another cave, but one constructed and left behind by some advanced alien civilization.

Alright, enough letting my imaginations go wild. I better set to getting out of this weird in-between dimension, which I have to assume is the point of the exercise.

The what of it seems simple enough. Surely, I just have to get to the end of the corridor and touch that second Portal thing. But while the ‘cave’ looks empty enough at first glance, I have enough genre awareness to know that the how of it will be a pain to deal with.

Sure enough, the ‘how’ rears its ugly head, almost as soon as I take my first step forward.

One part of the walls suddenly bulges out into a basketball-sized pouch. This ‘pouch’ then detaches from the wall altogether, leaving behind a smooth, unbroken surface. The pouch itself continues its own transformation, with one portion of it deforming and elongating into…

… The barrel of a gun.

The Basketball That Grows Guns fires, even before I have a chance to be amazed and horrified in equal measure. And wouldn’t you know it? Its discharge comes out as a freaking laser beam. Like, genuine Stormtrooper shit, except unlike a Stormtrooper, this thing is accurate.

The laser beam goes through me. Straight through my abdomen. I even feel this searing heat in my tummy, real and alarming enough for me to look down and mouth, “what the fuck?”

But, readers, I have good news (or maybe bad news for some of you?). Getting laser-beamed through the intestines by an alien basketball isn’t how my Isekai adventure ends. Because the next second, I get that hydraulic press sensation again, before I’m spat back out onto solid ground, along with all my bits and my trusty STSG.

I’m back in the beginning of an empty corridor. The basketball’s gone too, back hiding inside the smooth blue walls, no doubt along with a bunch of other obstacles about to come flying my way.

I understand what this is now. And I can almost forgive Leto for throwing me into the deep end. Almost, but not quite.

This is a test. Of the magical alien variety. And let me tell you, I did not study enough for this one.