While walking away from our landing site, we began to learn a great deal about this new world we had arrived on.
Apparently, there were over thirty different races coexisting here...
Something you didn't see on many planets.
I mean, with how often worlds get invaded, whether by demons or the forces of the Emperor... it was almost impossible for a planet to remain untouched by conflict like that.
But if this world truly had been peaceful...
Then it had just gotten incredibly unlucky the moment we made planetfall.
Even I wouldn't want someone like me descending onto my planet—bringing with him the kind of misfortune that turns everything to ruin.
"So, which school of magic are you both from... assuming such a thing exists on your planets?" Tiavus asked as he walked ahead of us, his hands clasped neatly behind his back.
"I didn't go to any school. That stuff is boring," Tom replied casually. "But we're from an academy called Paragon."
"That is... quite a peculiar name for an institution of magic," Tiavus said thoughtfully. "What does it teach? Abjuration, conjuration, divination, enchantment—"
He continued listing terms we had never even heard before.
"I don't think we've learned anything like that," I interrupted. "But if you don't mind me asking... could you explain them?"
"You're unfamiliar with the fundamental classifications of magic, despite coming from an academy?" Tiavus paused mid-step, clearly puzzled. "Hmm... how curious. Perhaps our terminology differs."
He turned slightly, studying us more carefully now.
"Judging by your presence alone, I would say the two of you could rival an Archmage... a Grand Sorcerer... or even a High Priest of a Cult, given enough effort."
"There are cults here?" Tom asked quietly, his voice low, a hint of restrained anger slipping through.
"Mostly hidden," Tiavus replied. "They serve various gods, though I doubt you would recognize any of them. While we refer to them as cults, they are essentially zealots, devout followers empowered directly by the deities they worship."
He adjusted the monocle over his eye.
"That said... some among them worship demons instead."
A brief pause followed.
"So it would be wise not to involve yourselves with such groups."
"Are you not alarmed by the fact that you're guiding two people who could very well be a threat to your planet?" I asked, letting a hint of hostility seep into my tone.
"Hm," in response, he gave me a tired, almost unimpressed look before continuing.
"Well, you appear to be educated individuals," he said calmly. "Which means you wouldn't be foolish enough to discard someone like me, someone who can provide you with the fundamental knowledge you require about this world."
He adjusted his monocle slightly.
"What you choose to do afterward..." he added with a small shrug, "is of little concern to me."
"That's reasonable," I replied after a brief pause. "It's rare to find someone like you these days... even in our world." I exhaled softly.
"Apologies for the harsh words. I simply wanted to confirm whether you were an idiot... or a madman," my gaze lingered on him for a moment. "But the odds of you being a survivor were... quite low."
"Oh, now that we've put some distance between ourselves and that place, let me tell you something..." Tiavus said, his voice lowering slightly. "I didn't want to alarm you earlier, but... the thing you landed on was a dormant feathered dragon."
He glanced back in the direction we had come from.
"It could have devoured us the moment it awakened. Fortunately, I cast an enchantment to prolong its sleep."
"What kind of bloody dragon has feathers?" Tom blurted out, clearly unsettled. "And what do you mean by enchantment? Is your mana path dream-related or something?"
"Mana paths?" Tiavus repeated, visibly puzzled. "What are those?"
He stopped walking altogether, turning toward us fully now.
"Enchantment magic is far more than simply inducing sleep. It allows one to charm minds—people, monsters, beasts alike, and even weave mental illusions."
His expression shifted from confusion to something closer to disbelief.
"Are you suggesting you're restricted to a single type of magic? We can learn any form of magic we desire, provided we have the resources to acquire the knowledge... and the capability to memorize the spells."
A brief pause followed. "...Wait. Are you seriously restricted to one type?"
We didn't answer... we didn't need to, our expressions had already said everything.
"Huh..." Tiavus muttered, studying us more carefully now. "But judging by your age, you can't possibly represent the peak of your world's power."
He began pacing slowly, clearly thinking out loud.
"Which means... instead of mastering one path, you've progressed across multiple... spreading your growth rather than allowing it to stagnate in a single direction."
He stopped and looked at us again. "Am I correct?"
"Somewhat," I replied. "We aren't exactly allowed to know everything. We come from what you could call a training planet."
I paused for a moment before adding, "I'm guessing your world doesn't have much advancement in technology, and instead focuses primarily on magic."
"Technology?" Tiavus echoed, raising an eyebrow. "That's a term mostly used by the dwarves..."
A thoughtful look crossed his face. "Hm, I suppose you're right."
"Well, we can continue this discussion after getting some food," Tiavus said as he turned toward us and lightly tapped our temples. "Welcome to Fernhold."
The moment his fingers made contact, a ripple passed through my mind, like a brief distortion in reality.
And then, a portal appeared before us. It hadn't been there a moment ago. A circular gateway, bordered in soft yellow light, hummed faintly as it stabilized.
Through it, we could see what looked like a small village nestled within the towering trunks of massive trees.
Wooden structures curved along the bark, blending seamlessly with nature, while a few buildings of smooth, pale stone stood out among them.
The moment we stepped through, the world shifted. Voices filled the air, layered and overlapping, while movement surrounded us from every direction. The scent of roasted meat and damp wood lingered faintly in the air. And people... no, species were everywhere.
All of them humanoid, yet none truly human. Some resembled humans but bore feline features, with slitted eyes and soft fur tracing along their cheeks. Others had long, elegant ears like elves.
There were towering orcs dressed in tailored suits, dwarves bustling about with tools in hand, and hybrids whose features blurred between races.
And then there were the children... or at least, what should have been children. Tiny bodies, round faces... and full, thick beards.
"By the Emperor..." Tom muttered, his voice laced with disbelief. "What have we stepped into?"