Princess Thalia scowled at the tall, stark-naked man in front of her upon entering the second chamber of the underground tomb. The nude man had a sickly pale alabaster skin and looked thin and gaunt, as if he had been starved for years. Despite such a malnourished appearance and the surprised look on the man’s face, it could not belie his sleek, shapely muscles or his broad shoulders, and the dangerous, suffocating aura she felt from his presence.
Her eyes briefly, unthinkingly, traveled downward. That part of his body was the only thing that wasn’t malnourished. She had seen men naked before—it was something that could not be avoided especially considering her brief stint in the king’s army—but the man was entirely hairless, save for the silvery, lustrous white hair that framed his face, dropping just short of his shoulders.
She kept her calm at the sight before her, though her scowl remained affixed on her face. Despite Thalia being well over the marriageable age of sixteen, her being twenty-three years old, she was still chaste. Thalia had vowed to herself to never be relegated into the role of a demure housewife to a hateful noble.
The red irises of the man’s eyes, reminiscent of blood, were startling as they casually glanced over her. Thalia had seen a few people with red irises before, for the fickleness of the Esotherial could not be avoided, but the pair of eyes in front of her was mesmerizing, like peering into a dark abyss. His nose and brow were strongly defined as were his finely shaped cheekbones. His ears were vaguely pointed like those of the elves she had read about, though not as sharp. Thalia admitted to herself she could not deny the man’s handsomeness despite his gauntness.
She briefly wondered who the man was. Could he simply have been an adventurer who had come in before them? No, that didn’t make sense. The treasure chest had not appeared when they arrived at the first chamber. There was no way the gates to the second chamber could have opened had he not defeated the raven abomination in the first chamber. Thalia also saw no ships moored near the island when they went ashore. This naturally narrowed down the few possibilities to but one, and it was a conclusion so outrageous that Thalia did not even dare consider it.
Could the man, no, the Sanguis before her, truly be Azul Ragna san’Oblis Xolron? But that would mean the Sanguis before her was, at the very least, over three thousand years old. No man, not even a Sanguis, could live that long without resorting to unsavory means.
Thalia shelved the thought for now, though her vigilance grew greater. She focused on what had been drawing the majority of her attention—the hourglass vial and the longsword in his hands. The color looked to belong to that of Yggdrasil’s Dew, the potion that could cure her father who had been afflicted with an extremely rare magical disease. And the purported ancient weapon of power that was said to have the ability to rival a thousand strong army if held in the right hands.
[Analysis].
Thalia mentally targeted her quirk ability at the man, but the results were disappointing with the notification that her analysis had failed. Either the man had a form of protection against scrying abilities and spells or his level was so far beyond her that it wasn’t possible to use her quirk ability against him.
“I come in peace,” the naked man said, his baritone voice somewhat hoarse, though there was a lilting quality to the it that Thalia could not put a finger to. The words he spoke had been said in perfect Trade Commons, the language a majority of the races used to communicate with each other.
Quite suspicious. Trade Commons was a language that had only recently come into existence two to three thousand years ago and the man, if he was Azul, was speaking it perfectly. Perhaps he was using some kind of linguistic skill?
Raising both his hands, the man attempted a disarming gesture which was made less effective by his longsword, the ancient weapon of power, radiating both power and a disconcerting aura that seemed to absorb and distort light. There was a bloodthirsty and dominating presence to the exquisite black blade, yet the man held it casually as if it were a mere weapon.
“Who are you?” Thalia questioned, her muscles tensed and her hand itching to draw her sword at the slightest sign of threat. But she tempered her agitation. There was no telling what would happen if she offended him. Who knew what his level or power was like? In addition, the man held the ancient weapon of power and the Yggdrasil’s Dew she desperately needed.
Vaeril paused in hesitation. The him as of now had two names, his real name from Earth and the name of his current body. Given his current appearance and the complexity behind his Earth name, Vaeril figured it was better to assume the mantle of Azul. He doubted the humans in front of him would accept such a far-fetched truth. All of them held weapons and looked prepared for a small war.
“I am Azul Ragna san’Oblis Xolron,” said Vaeril calmly, trying not to show his unease. Even to his ears, his voice sounded harsh and raspy. Certainly, thousands of years without water would do that to a man, even a Sanguis.
Thalia did not allow her surprise to show at the revelation. Indeed, the Sanguis before her truly was the master of the tomb they were trespassing to loot, though he appeared unconcerned at the offense. The people beside her, however, reacted in an entirely contradicting manner to her calm indifference. Thalia could see scholar Johan and her best friend Jess bubbling with excitement. To their minds, this was most likely an opportunity that came once every few thousand years. Such a specimen that had lived through history itself would surely hold knowledge otherwise unobtainable.
Scholar Johan was the first to break the silence. Contradicting his old and thin frame, he bolted forward a few steps like a startled rabbit, almost stepping over the hem of his brown robe. The Sanguis of the Fabled Warring Ages had been the topic of his research for more than two decades. To see a true Sanguis, not those fake descendants, was a sight for sore eyes. And the Sanguis in front of him was a legend even to the Sanguis of the past themselves. “Truly, you are the Azul of legends? The Dragon Slayer, the Guardian of Sanguis, the Blood Ruler?” The excitement in his voice was almost palpable.
It seems you have an admirer. But where are Loliya’s admirers? Do they not see this Exalted One, the powerful exquisiteness and the charming elegance of this one?
The old scholar continued, “And is the weapon you are holding Dragon’s Bane, said to be an exalted ancient weapon of power? Such power and beauty. I wonder of its origins.”
Loliya likes this one. We should keep the old man.
Vaeril ignored the prideful remark of the Zenitence weapon and turned to look at the scholarly old man. It was time to squeeze out every drop of limited acting skills he possessed. Vaeril shook his head slightly. “My memories are hazy and blurred from my long slumber. I cannot recollect most of them, but I am certain that I am indeed this Azul you speak off. It is what my status portrays me as.”
Like a small boy that had been told by his parents they weren’t going to buy him his favorite truck, visible shock appeared on the old scholar’s face. “But..but…how will I ever learn the true history of the Fabled Warring Ages if you can’t remember?” A groan. “Alas, such a truth can only be buried in the history of the lies and perception of men who have never experienced it.” But excitement soon lighted up his face. “Perhaps we can obtain a rare soul memory potion from the Beldini Empire to incite your forgotten memories.”
Thalia lightly coughed to interrupt scholar Johan from derailing the conversation further. The old man had the temerity to unabashedly fall silent, as if he had done nothing wrong.
“How will we know that you come in peace?” Thalia asked, staring at the man’s forehead so as to not get distracted.
Vaeril assumed from the stories Loliya had told of Azul that he was a well-spoken man. In her stories and judging from his various titles, Azul had been both hero and villain, as well as having lived longer than a hundred years. Many of his titles, including [Dragon Slayer] and [Myriad Killer], were nothing to sneer at. The latter title’s description, for example, could only be obtained by having killed 10,000 entities of different races or species.
Vaeril stared at the gray eyes of the scarlet-haired woman, summoning as much dignity and elegance as would be allowed for a naked man with a sizable audience before him. “May I know to whom I am addressing? It is only fair that you reciprocate your identity after having asked for mine. And especially your purpose, considering that you have trespassed into my tomb.”
Princess Thalia was not a foolish woman. She knew when to advance and when to concede. Only fools would start unnecessary fights in such an ambiguous situation if it could be avoided simply by parley. And while there was still some doubt regarding the naked man’s true identity, she was almost certain he was who he professed to be.
With manners befitting of her status, despite not looking the part by wearing frilly dresses and such, Thalia placed a foot slightly behind the other and gave a small curtsy to the Sanguis before her, a short smile replacing her scowl. “I am the Third Princess of Havenrise Kingdom, the daughter of King Gavin Havenrise the Wise Flame. My purpose here is simple. I wish to exchange for the Yggdrasil’s Dew you hold in your hand.”
Thalia had wisely changed the purpose of her coming here. She knew she could no longer obtain the ancient weapon of power that was in his hands, but she could still exchange for the dew. And if she truly could not exchange for it, Thalia would have no choice but to use force.
Gasps and murmurs could be heard among the adventurers and soldiers not in the know. They had all heard of the legendary Yggdrasil’s Dew that could cure any ailments and restore one’s health to full with but a small sip. Sure, they didn’t know what the dew looked like, but they certainly knew of its name and its purpose. Even an illiterate goblin savage would probably know of the legendary Yggdrasil.
Logically, their minds instantly wondered toward the next direction. For what purpose exactly did the princess want the Yggdrasil’s Dew for?
Vaeril had not realized before, but he had surprisingly sharped ears, as he could hear the soft murmurs even from about a fifty feet distance if he focused. When he focused, he could hear the words even more clearly. In fact, even his sense of smell sharply improved. The foul stench, the lingering smell of decay in the air, reminded him of the smell of zombies. Had the humans recently fought some zombies?
Whispers, more clear-cut to his ears, could be heard.
“—the dew said to cure anything?”
“I would even sell my mother and—"
“What does the princess want with it?”
The whispers mostly came from twenty humans dressed in various different attires with dissimilar weapons. He could see bows, daggers, swords, staves, and even a large hammer as their choice of weapons.
Quite different from the other division of the party, in which almost all were dressed in uniform armors and standard weapons. Soldiers, by the looks of it. This meant that the twenty or so ragtag group were likely hired hands. Mercenaries? Or adventurers such as those in the games he played?
As he listened to the murmurs which soon died down, Vaeril was the spitting image of tranquil contemplation, like The Thinker sculpture except he wasn’t posing, or sitting down pensively, or human at all. But still, he had the spirit of the meaning.
The inside of his mind, however, was anarchy. His gamer senses were tingling. A princess. An honest to goodness real life princess. Would he, Vaeril, now embark on a quest to save her kingdom from destruction? Would he be like Link saving Zelda, like a transmigrated Mario saving a transmigrated Peach? Surely, there were no such coincidence in the world. A coincidence in which he met a princess the moment he had awakened from his slumber. He thought suspiciously back to the [Isekai World Traveler] title and its description of “Strange plots are likelier to happen in your presence.”
His mind a furious storm of jumbled thoughts contradicting his calm appearance, Vaeril quickly assessed his situation and the offer from the princess.
First, and the most important point, Vaeril was stuck on a deserted island with an expansive jungle filled with monsters and with the closest land at least two weeks away—if Loliya’s skewed judgment could be trusted.
Secondly, he was hungry, thirsty, and naked. And naked. That bore repeating. Perhaps the concept of modesty was nothing to the original owner of this body, but Vaeril with his human modesty cared deeply for it.
Third, his shadeblood was at 3%, pitifully low, and Vaeril was worried about it becoming lower, despite Loliya’s assurances. Anything that had the word “blood” in it, Vaeril believed, would be quite important to his continued existence. Vaeril sighed, wishing there was a user manual for the usage of shadeblood, and both holy and demonic mage. Loliya had not cared to explain them further to him and probably did not know either.
In her time with Azul, she had left such matters alone. Despite the sword’s boasting of Azul, in which of course she also included herself, Azul and Loliya had not known each other for long. They had only been together for a brief five years before his death.
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Judging from the rarity and function of the Yggdrasil’s Dew in his hand, Vaeril knew that he could exchange it for a great price. Thinking of the other two vials in the chest, Vaeril was instantly regretting not putting them in his system inventory. With so many people watching him closely, Vaeril knew he could not risk sneaking the other two vials into his inventory. To use the system inventory, he had to be touching the item of target and such an action would make him even more suspicious. Human greed could not be trusted on Earth. Even more so in an unknown world.
Unbeknownst to Vaeril, the long, contemplative pause of his had unnerved the humans. It wasn’t their fault as there was simply something distinctly uncanny about the Sanguis, both his behavior and appearance. Now, the long pause had made a majority of them think the princess had offended the Sanguis by making an offer to exchange for the Yggdrasil’s Dew.
“I wish,” Vaeril finally said, “to exchange this Yggdrasil’s Dew for passage to the closest land, some clothes, and food and water.”
Four thousand years was a long time, enough for major changes, so Vaeril could only take Loliya’s past memories as references with a grain of salt. “And for a sizable amount of money or whatever currency is used, along with a perusal of your library and other means of information,” he added. He had left the amount of money for the princess to decide for two particular reasons. One was to test her greed and trustworthiness. And the other was simply because he had no idea how much money was worth in general in this world. Loliya was no help as she did not subscribe to the concept of money and trade. She was a subscriber to the pillage and looting idea, of might is right.
The princess was somewhat perplexed by the Sanguis’ modest demands. Thalia would have thought the demands to be far more extravagant, considering the true worth of the dew. In the worst-case scenario, she had even expected the Sanguis to demand human blood sacrifices. “Are you certain that is all you want?”
“Yes. I have two more of these vials in the treasure chest so it is of no matter to me,” the Sanguis said casually, reaching into the treasure chest to reveal two more vials of Yggdrasil’s Dew. Both vials promptly disappeared in a heartbeat.
Inert magic! Thalia’s eyes widened at the show of power. Out of the ten types of mana-based magic, Inert magic and Soul magic were the rarest types and the only two that were not limited by tiers. The coveted space magic, necessary for the creation of spatial storage carriers, was a subtype of Inert magic. Holding such an extraordinary and valuable power from birth, space mages were prized, secret assets of kingdoms and empires alike. Thus, it was a great shame no space mage had been born in Havenrise Kingdom. And seeing that the Sanguis held no spatial storage carriers, he was undoubtedly a space mage.
There was no hesitation from Thalia. It was an extremely worthwhile deal to her advantage, so much so that she almost felt guilty for accepting it. Almost. He had left the sizable amount of money for her to determine too. But Thalia would be fair, however, if only out of sensibility. She did not want to cheat the Sanguis, thereby creating ill will between them.
“Then let us proceed to the Esotherial covenant. But would you mind if I add the conditions of you not harming our group and the people of my kingdom in the duration of your stay? Of course, it is given that you can retaliate out of self-defense.”
Covenant? What exactly does that mean? Vaeril was confused by the new term and attempted to ask Loliya, not wanting to be seen as ignorant. It was most likely an official agreement of some sort, but he knew not of the specifics.
A slight annoyance. You ask Loliya far too many questions, wielder. Loliya is a Zenitence weapon, not a talking book of knowledge.
There’s a talking book of knowledge? Vaeril could not help but ask, curiosity getting the better of him. I apologize, Loliya. I am just a dim-witted man while you are the greatest Zenitence weapon with such preeminent knowledge.
Prideful contentment. Loliya forgives you, but only because you are her wielder. And you are not dim-witted. Loliya would not choose a feebleminded wielder.
Checkmate. The Zenitence weapon, like a sulky girl, was easily pleased by any superlative praises he threw her way. Of course, Vaeril buried such a thought in the far depths of his mind, so far down that Loliya could not sense it. It would not do Vaeril any good to anger the talking weapon bonded to him, especially since she shared his headspace. Or was it mindspace?
The Esotherial covenant, Loliya explained, is simply an agreement officiated by the Esotherial. You simply need to repeat the terms of the covenant out loud and officiate it by willing the Esotherial as witness.
Thank you, Loliya.
Vaeril nodded at the redhead. “Very well, Princess Thalia. Those are conditions to which I can agree to.”
Nodding in return, the princess began in a ceremonial and solemn voice, “I, Thalia Havenrise, will escort Azul Ragna san’Oblis Xolron to Fenlan Port in Havenrise Kingdom. As part of the accord, I will do him no harm present to him clothing, food, drink, and three hundred standard gold coins. In addition, I will honor his request of information, letting him browse the royal library as well as other channels of information. In return, I will receive a vial of Yggdrasil’s Dew and no harm shall be made to my party and the people of my kingdom unless said harm is made in self-defense for the duration of your stay.”
All around him, Vaeril could hear heated whispers.
“Three hundred gold standards? What I wouldn’t do for—”
“That’s the wealth of a small noble.”
“—many quests would it take for me to save—"
“—adventuring days would be over with that kind of wealth.”
Putting the whispers out of focus, though a good source of information they were, Vaeril repeated his own part of the covenant in a similar fashion.
“Witness be the Esotherial to our covenant,” sounded the princess’ voice as soon as Vaeril had finished with his terms.
“Witness be the Esotherial to our covenant,” Vaeril repeated half a second later, closely following her words.
Not unexpectedly, a system notification appeared.
You have formed a covenant with Thalia Havenrise. Endeavor to the spirit of the covenant, for betrayal and duplicity against the covenant will result in random, corresponding negative effects, depending on the extent of the infractions.
Vaeril willed the word Covenant. And voila, as he had expected, a system screen appeared.
Active Covenant: 1
[Covenant with Thalia Havenrise]
He closed the status screen and proceeded to climb down from the raised dais, confidently strutting toward the princess and her group as if he were not naked. Of course, Vaeril was still wary of them, but he decided to believe in the general decency of humans and the truth of the system covenant. That, and the fact that there was no apocalypse here.
When he was within spitting distance, Vaeril realized just how tall his new body was. He judged his height to perhaps be a little over six feet tall. A few of the closer by soldiers glanced at him warily while the seven shadows behind the princess impassively measured him. The only friendly faces he could see among the crowd was from a few adventurers, the old scholar, and the short, goggles wearing woman with excited brown eyes that was quietly gazing at him—far too quietly.
Commandeering a tall-looking soldier of his extra clothing, the princess handed a sleeveless brown tunic, black leggings, and a pair of black boots to him. In turn, Vaeril handed over the vial of Yggdrasil’s Dew to her.
Astonishment flashed across her face for half a heartbeat before disappearing. Her indifference was replaced with a slight curve of her lips which too vanished just as promptly as her surprise. She shook her head. “Keep it. I have not fulfilled my end of the covenant yet.”
“Very well,” said Vaeril, putting the vial into his system inventory. He then thanked the princess for the clothing.
With a sizeable audience watching him carefully, Vaeril slowly put on the tunic and leggings with as much dignity as he could muster. All the while, Vaeril felt as if he was giving a strange, surreal reverse-strip-tease show.
If his parents were watching him now in heaven, they would surely laugh at the sight. Vaeril could not rule out the idea of heaven or hell, given that in the very beginning of the apocalypse, angels and demons—black-and-white winged humanoid figures—had been spotted fighting in the skies.
A solid softness. The texture of the clothing felt like a strange mix between cotton and linen. Given his thin body, the tunic and leggings were a loose fit and draped over him like a blanket or a shirt and pants a few sizes too large. Still, it was a blanket of relief for Vaeril as his immodesty was finally covered up. It seemed to Vaeril that beggars, even transmigrated ones, could not be choosers.
Loliya does not understand why you two-legged races are so fond of covering your nudity. Armor, Loliya can understand as it offers some form of protection—not against Loliya, of course. But such thin clothing? Loliya doubts it offers much protection. My wielder might as well wear nothing. A burst of self-confidence and disdain projected from the bond. It is why Loliya wears no feeble sheath.
Vaeril shoved his rebuttal into the back of his mind. How would one even go about explaining the concept of modesty to an intelligent weapon, one that took pride on being naked without a sheath.
“Here is some food and water, Azul.” The voice of the princess, a steady soprano, jarred Vaeril back into his present situation.
Thanking her again, Vaeril took the waterskins and the various types of cured meat wrapped in a clean cloth from her. The waterskins were surprisingly modern-looking. In fact, they looked more like plain metal canteens with none of the modern aesthetics.
Perhaps seeing Vaeril stare too long at the waterskins, the princess reassured him. “Not to worry. They are not poisoned. I wouldn’t dare go against the covenant.”
Vaeril could see her then leaving to give orders to the uniformed soldiers to prepare to leave the chamber, all the while the four men and three women, her personal guards most likely, shadowed her from behind.
Taking a sip of the cool water was an indescribable feeling. Like clarity that replaced the blurriness of sleepy eyes, except with the tongue. A tangible clarity. As for the cured meat, while it was firm and a bit chewy, it was still the best thing Vaeril had tasted in a long while. Well, perhaps the only thing he had tasted in this new world.
And now that he reflected on it, cured meat being the first real food he tasted in a brand-new world filled with unknowns was disappointing. Truly, man was a greedy glutton. Vaeril should have been satisfied quelling his starvation, but he could not rid himself of the slight disappointment.
While disappointment was seeping through Vaeril at the lack of variety in the food, one of the adventurers came up to him. It was the man with the unshaved stubble, the one who had called the naked Vaeril his nightmare. The ever-present roguish grin was still plastered onto his face while a hand was outstretched toward Vaeril.
Almost instinctively, Vaeril moved his own hand to meet it, shaking the outstretched hand.
The grinning man glanced down at their handshake. “An interesting greeting. I have heard traders in the Beldini Empire use this greeting often. I was trying to do a different kind of greeting, but this works too.” He looked back up at the Sanguis. “Name’s Mahar. Mahar Swift. An adventurer, rogue, and dungeon explorer.”
“Azul Ragna san’Oblis Xolron.”
“Do you mind if I call you Ragna? That sounds better than Azul,” said Mahar.
Vaeril took a deep gulp of the water. “Do as you will.”
“So Ragna, I hear you are a dragon slayer and a cultured man of many experiences,” said Mahar offhandedly. “But have you seen or have had any experiences with unicorns?”
“Oh, lay off of the Sanguis, Mahar,” the old man with the multicolored beard interrupted. “Didn’t you hear his memories have been affected. And nobody wants to hear about your fornication with unicorns.” Casually, as if he had never said the latter sentence, the old man introduced himself with a flourishing stroke of his beard from chin to waist. “Name’s Kote Lunsari, an adventurer, Neutral and fire mage extraordinaire, and part-time alchemist.”
Vaeril barely managed to stop himself from coughing out the cured meat he had been chewing. “Azul Ragna san’Oblis Xolron,” he repeated again.
“I have told you that it was not fornication with a unicorn. It was magic I had with it. You would not believe it until you see a unicorn transform into a beauty.”
“And where is your proof? Surely, that unicorn would leave you a memento or something?”
“It did leave me with a unicorn’s horn. But that horn disappeared---”
“Surely, it was simply you being too drunk and forcing one of your harlots to dress up—"
Wielder, you may also keep these two humans. They are amusing to Loliya. A respite to her boredom.
While the two adventurers were busy arguing, the short woman with the goggles and the old scholar introduced themselves to Vaeril.
“I am Jess Parvati, an artificer and demolition expert. You can count on me for all your explosion needs,” she said, adjusting her goggles with a smile. “Your sword…please let me see it, touch it. Such unbelievable craftsmanship. Such power emanating from it.”
You may also keep this—
Yes, Loliya. I know. I will keep this one, for she is wise in recognizing your exaltedness.
The sarcasm was lost on the Zenitence weapon. Loliya is pleased you are learning, wielder. Now, Loliya only need to train you to become a Sword Saint.
Uncle Ben was truly wrong, Vaeril was beginning to think. With great power comes not great responsibility, but great ego.
The old scholar coughed lightly, smoothing his thinning white hair. “I apologize for my outburst previously. In my excitement to speak to you, I had not even thought to introduce myself. I am the Royal Archivist of Havenrise Kingdom.” A slight bow. “Scholar Johan Maseri, at your service.”
Princess Thalia called out upon seeing Vaeril finish eating and drinking. “Are you ready to move out now, Azul Ragna san’Oblis Xolron?” Her tone was formal, though perhaps lighter and less somber as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
“If I may ask,” scholar Johan began, “why exactly was your tomb located underground on an island far away from land and made in the fashion of a dungeon?”
Vaeril did not have any clues either. And now that the old scholar had mentioned it, he was curious too.
Perhaps, mayhap, perchance, that was Loliya’s fault. Loliya did not wanted her nap to be interrupted so she set up some guardians and left instructions for her followers. And her wielder loved dungeons too.
Of course. That explained it all.
“I have not the slightest idea either,” Vaeril answered the old scholar, feigning ignorance.