Clatter. Clatter.
The constant rattling of wheels echoed over the uneven ground, as the black, shaggy mounts trudged heavily along a path more overgrown with vegetation than covered in solid earth.
They were Mountain Olux—creatures only slightly smaller than their conventional cousins, but far more muscular, more resilient... and far more temperamental. Difficult to tame, rare to find, and so expensive that most nobles used them only for ceremonies. Not out of utility—but out of ostentation.
And yet, here they were, pulling an immense, overdecorated carriage, so absurdly adorned it looked less designed for travel than to be seen.
Traveling like this wasn't just inefficient—it was reckless. A carriage like this was an open invitation to every organized bandit group within miles. Was it a decoy? Some kind of joke?
But there was something different from mere recklessness that emanated from this carriage... That was because it bore the royal emblem of the Kingdom of Vectoris. At the sight of it, everything became clear: this carriage's purpose was neither to boast nor to deceive, but to demonstrate the authority and importance of the bloodline of the person inside it.
And inside that carriage... was me.
Six months had passed since I, Takato Kiyoshi, arrived in this world.
I'm not someone particularly extraordinary. If I had to name one achievement, I'd say I was a professional player of the most popular video game of the decade: Runes and Worlds. I was once considered the best—though I was never unbeatable. That might sound like false modesty coming from someone who won four world championships, but to me, a game was always just that: a game.
Or at least, that's what I believed...
After participating in the tenth Runes and Worlds World Tournament, where I was defeated in the final, I publicly announced my retirement. I thought I'd finally left that chapter of my life behind.
But twenty-four hours later, while waiting for my flight back to Japan, everything changed.
Without warning, I was transported to another world. Just like that—right out of a fantasy cliché.
And yet, the biggest surprise wasn't arriving in a new world, but doing so in the form of my in-game character. I didn't just inherit his appearance—I had his gear, his stats... and his power. Power that, in this world, could easily be considered broken.
Luckily, I had modeled the character after myself. Only now, I was taller, and muscular.
I was dropped into the capital of a kingdom called Vectoris, and before I had time to adjust, I got caught up in the kidnapping of one of the princesses. I saved her. From there, everything spiraled—one conflict after another, as if every corner of the realm wanted a piece of me.
It didn't take long for me to draw attention.
Greedy nobles tried to control me, monopolize me, turn my very existence into a tool of power. After all, with my strength, it was understandable that any kingdom would want me.
Fortunately, that problem was—at least partially—resolved when the princess herself named me her knight. A gesture that allowed me to shake off the influence of those nobles trying to use me for their own ends.
And now, finally, I could begin to focus on my true goal.
My goal...
My goal was to find a way back to my original world.
It wasn't that I hated this place. In fact, in many ways, it amazed me. The natural beauty, the magic, the landscapes I'd only ever seen in games or movies... all of it had a charm that was hard to deny.
But no matter how dazzling it was, I couldn't shut my eyes to what I'd left behind.
I had a wife.
We had just recently gotten married.
During my years as a professional gamer, time was something I never managed well. I failed her. Gave her less attention than she deserved, less room for us to grow together.
And just when I had finally retired, just when I had decided to be a better husband, to devote myself to her... I disappeared.
The image of her face came back to me.
Serene. Calm.
One of those people who seem too kind to complain about anything.
But she was also fragile. She had a condition that made it dangerous to leave her alone for too long.
Too much time had already passed.
The only spark of comfort I had left was thinking that her brother—who had always looked after her—was probably taking care of her in my absence.
That person...
Kobayashi Arata.
Eccentric in every possible way.
And, to my misfortune, my childhood friend.
The last memory I had of him was from that unexpected visit, just before the final match of the tenth tournament. He looked exactly the same as always—grumpy, with that constant air of being bored by the entire world... Even though he made loads of money and lived without a care, there was always something in his eyes that told me nothing was ever enough for him.
The kind of guy who got tired of everything too quickly. Who lived like every experience was disposable.
And even though he acted like he hated Runes and Worlds after quitting, I knew the truth. Deep down, he was fascinated by fantasy worlds.
"If he were here, he'd definitely love this world," I murmured, almost without realizing it.
But sadly, enough time had passed since my arrival, and I hadn't seen a single sign of any other players.
So, with reasonable certainty, I could assume that I was alone in this world.
The reason why... was still a complete mystery.
In stories like this, there's always something: a divine voice, a mysterious god, a system that wakes you up with a holy mission...
But in my case, there was nothing.
Just a brief blackout at the airport.
And then, this world.
No explanation.
No purpose.
Maybe... this was some kind of divine punishment for deciding to become unemployed.
...Although no.
I wasn't unemployed.
I was retired.
Was that such a great sin?
"I still don't think it's better than yours," said a childlike voice, abruptly snapping me out of my thoughts.
In front of me stood a girl around ten years old. Her vivid blue eyes, wide and curious, looked like two fragments of sky trapped in a freckled face. Her hair, a fiery red that seemed to burn under the sunlight, fell in messy curls over her shoulders. She wore a soft fabric dress, pastel blue with golden trim, slightly wrinkled from her habit of running through the palace halls without a care for her appearance. She had that kind of lively presence that seemed to light up the air around her.
She was Elsya Poincaré Vector Lux, third princess of the Kingdom of Vectoris.
The very same one I had saved some time ago... and, to my surprise, the person I'd spent the most time with since arriving in this world.
She had a unique personality, no doubt. Despite her young age, she was incredibly smart. She was fascinated by books of all kinds: history, magic, mythology, political treatises—even medical encyclopedias. You'd always see her with one under her arm, or quoting passages from memory. But unlike the stereotype of a quiet, withdrawn "bookworm" you might imagine, Elsya was actually quite outgoing... or well, at least she tried to be.
She'd talk to anyone unlucky enough not to cover their ears in time. Guards, servants, nobles, or cooks—none were safe from her long-winded lectures on topics they didn't even know existed. Her enthusiasm was contagious... but also exhausting. And of course, no one dared interrupt her. How do you tell a princess you're not interested in what she's saying? Once she got started, all they could do was accept their fate.
In my case... well, I never really minded. Deep down, I knew she was a good kid. She just wanted to connect with people, despite the golden cage she lived in. She had helped me a lot since I got here—even in ways she didn't fully understand herself.
Unfortunately, that same insatiable curiosity often led her to forget her status... and land herself in situations as dangerous as they were ridiculous.
She was like having a troublesome daughter.
As much as I found her chatter endearing, it didn't always manage to pull me out of my own head. It was still easy to lose myself in thought while she talked.
"Sorry, sorry, I wasn't listening," I said, snapping back to the conversation. "Something about a sword?"
"The sword of the hero Grutus!" she replied, frowning. "See? I knew you weren't paying attention!"
She puffed out her cheeks like a balloon, crossing her arms in childish indignation.
"All right, all right, I'm sorry. I got a little distracted... Please, go on."
"Hmph. If you insist... then I'll tell you a fun fact about the hero Grutus."
I already knew where this was going.
"Do you know how the hero Grutus avoided having a bad day?"
"How?"
"He woke up at night!"
...
I fell silent.
She looked at me, waiting for a reaction.
Two seconds passed. Then she jumped up from her seat, bursting into laughter as if she'd just told the most brilliant joke on the continent.
"Hahaha! It's hilarious! Come on, admit it!"
Yeah...
Aside from her obsession with books, she also had an unfortunate fondness for bad jokes—what we used to call dad jokes back in my world.
The kind of jokes so terrible they could ruin someone's whole day.
And the worst part was... she genuinely found them funny at her age.
I don't even want to imagine what she'll become when she grows up.
Elsya kept laughing at her awful joke while I forced a smile, not wanting to ruin her moment.
I took advantage of her distraction to glance out the carriage window. The landscape had changed. Gone were the forest trails and scattered villages. Now, well-kept fields stretched out before us, with neatly pruned trees and white stone roads gleaming under the sunlight. In the distance, among gentle hills, stood a majestic estate surrounded by tall cypress trees and protected by a decorative wall draped in ivy.
"We're almost there," I murmured.
Elsya leaned forward to look with me, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Ah! Then you'd better act like someone important, okay? I don't want you ruining my reputation," she said with a mischievous smile.
"Oh, ruining the princess's reputation... I wouldn't dare."
"For some reason, the way you call me 'princess' really annoys me."
"Well, it's a habit. I used to annoy someone else with that nickname too."
"Oooh? Kiyoshi knows another princess? That's the first I've heard of it. You'll have to tell me all about it later in great detail."
"I don't know another princess. Or... well, it's complicated."
"Again with your excuses to avoid talking about your past."
"Sorry, sorry. It's just really hard to explain."
I smiled softly, but my thoughts had already wandered ahead, recalling the history behind this place.
The estate belonged to the House of Mathrael, an old noble family based in eastern Vectoris. What few knew—and even fewer wanted to remember—was that this house had almost vanished not too long ago. I'd only been in this world for a month when it all happened.
That was when the sky over this land turned an oppressive black, shrouded in ash. A gray veil fell over the fields and villages. Rumors spread quickly: forbidden rituals, dark magic, an unleashed curse. The noble council, eager to calm the people, decided to blame the Mathrael family. Without trial, without proof, they had already condemned the patriarch, his wife, and their two daughters to execution.
But the princess and I intervened.
We gathered evidence that the phenomenon wasn't magical. It was just a massive forest fire in the eastern woods, caused by unusual circumstances. The ash and smoke had traveled on the wind, covering the sky above the estate and giving it that ominous appearance. A logical explanation—yes—but no one had bothered to look for it until we stepped in.
Thanks to that explanation—and to the princess's authority—the family was cleared. Their lives were spared.
Since then, the House of Mathrael had become a loyal ally, and this estate a place that always welcomed us with open arms.
Our visit was a small detour after resolving a minor incident with giant ants in the south. We were making use of the route to greet them before returning to the capital.
The carriage came to a stop in front of the mansion.
The large wrought-iron gates opened with a smooth creak. The staff came out to receive us with ceremonial discipline: butlers, gardeners, maids—all lined up, bowing in unison. Standing out among them, waiting at the front, was a young woman.
It was Sara Mathrael, the eldest daughter of the family.
She was about sixteen years old, though she already carried the elegance of a fully-formed noblewoman. Her dark brown—almost black—hair was tied in a flawless braid resting over her shoulder. Her light green eyes were expressive and calm, holding a quiet intelligence, as if silently observing and analyzing the world. She wore a modest yet refined outfit adorned with geometric embroidery.
"Welcome back, Kiyoshi-sama," she said with a gentle but flawless bow. "It's been a while."
"Yes... it has. I'm glad to see you again, Sara."
I didn't say much else, but it was enough. Her cheeks instantly turned red, and her eyes darted nervously for a moment before she regained her composure.
Elsya, of course, didn't miss the opportunity.
She leaned over and whispered to me:
"Hooo... another heart conquered without even trying. You're going to have to write a book about this, you know?"
I sighed as I stepped out of the carriage.
My day was just beginning.
From inside the mansion, a tall man emerged—firm posture, face weathered by the years. His hair, now mostly white, was slicked back with care, and his neatly trimmed mustache gave him a dignified air. He wore a long dark blue velvet coat, with bronze buttons and the family crest embroidered on his chest: an ash leaf pierced by a circle.
It was Baron Aldren Mathrael, lord of these lands.
Upon seeing us, he approached with a steady gait and, once before the princess, dropped to one knee without hesitation, placing a fist to the ground and bowing his head in solemn respect.
"Your Royal Highness," he said in a deep, firm voice. "My house welcomes you with eternal humility and gratitude. It is an honor to receive you once again in our lands."
The rest of the staff, seeing the baron's gesture, immediately followed suit. One by one, they knelt in perfect unison, bowing their heads in the presence of royalty. The silence that followed was absolute— as if even the wind had stopped so as not to interrupt the scene.
Elsya, for her part, let go of the mischievous smile she usually carried through life. She stepped forward with measured grace, lifting one side of her dress lightly with her left hand, and nodded with the poise of a well-educated princess.
"Baron Mathrael, the gratitude is mine," she replied in a soft but clear voice. "Your loyalty and hospitality remain worthy examples for all of Vectoris. You may rise, please."
The baron obeyed, standing smoothly. Behind him, the servants also stood in perfect order, as if it had all been rehearsed.
"Then allow me," the baron continued, "the honor of offering a light banquet. The dining hall is prepared. I'm sure that after your travels, a moment of rest will be most welcome."
"Tempting," Elsya replied with a slight smile.
"This way, please," Aldren said, gesturing elegantly with his arm.
The transition into the mansion was swift and ceremonial.
The dining hall was spacious, with a high ceiling and open windows that let in the midday breeze. A long dark wooden table, decorated with a floral centerpiece and crystal candelabras, awaited us. The silverware was perfectly aligned, and the glasses gleamed.
We sat according to protocol: Princess Elsya took the central seat—the one of highest prestige. To her right, Baron Aldren Mathrael; to her left, me. A few seats down, Sara took her place. Though her demeanor was composed, I noticed how her eyes would now and then drift toward me, her curiosity only barely concealed.
The servants entered in an orderly line, serving a sequence of dishes: spiced meats, clear soups, delicately arranged side dishes, fruits carved like works of art, and warm, freshly baked bread.
The food in this world—as I tasted a bite—never quite reached the flavors of my previous one. It wasn't bad, certainly, but it lacked that spark of extraordinary. I was never a picky eater, but ever since inhabiting this new body, my needs had changed. The craving for meat was stronger than any other urge, almost instinctual. And the amount I had to eat to feel full had increased significantly. Perhaps it was due to this body's size... or the constant effort it took to maintain its strength and agility.
"By the way, Princess-sama," the baron said in a calm and courteous tone, "I've heard that you plan to apply to the Lucciola Magic Academy in two years' time."
Elsya nodded gracefully, setting her goblet down on its saucer before replying.
"That's right, Baron. Once I reach the minimum required age, I intend to enroll at Lucciola. My elder sister studies there and has always been a role model to me."
"An admirable decision," Aldren replied with a measured smile. "Given your natural talent, it is nearly certain that Her Highness will become a distinguished mage. It would be a significant step for Vectoris to have a princess formally trained in the magical arts. Without doubt, it would inspire its study across the realm."
It was true. In the Kingdom of Vectoris, magic still lacked the prestige it held in neighboring nations. Many said it was one or two generations behind in terms of application and development. Military and political traditions still dominated the stage, relegating magic to a secondary role.
"I appreciate your words," the princess said, "but I must admit I don't consider myself particularly exceptional. What truly fascinates me is understanding the logic behind magic, more than its direct use."
"A noble pursuit," the baron approved, clearly moved. "Those who study from passion rather than pride are often the ones who go the farthest."
After a brief silence, Baron Aldren turned his gaze to me, wearing a calm yet inquisitive smile.
"And you, Sir Kiyoshi... As you surely know, the Lucciola Academy does not allow personal guards or escorts, even for royalty. Have you considered what you'll do once Her Highness begins her studies? Perhaps you've thought about joining the Front Lines?"
I maintained a firm but relaxed posture and answered with a measured tone:
"For now, I have no concrete plans. Thinking about joining the Front two years from now would be assuming that the war will still be ongoing. I prefer to believe that by then, the kingdom and the empire will have reached peace."
The baron nodded slowly, though his brow arched with mild skepticism.
"A commendable hope... though, to be frank, I don't see this conflict ending so soon. Still, it would be reassuring to know that someone with your skill is willing to serve the kingdom when the time comes."
I gave a slight nod, polite in gesture.
"I'm sorry, Baron. But I don't believe I'm the right person to take part in a war."
It was the truth.
While I did have the power to protect lives... I also had the power to take them.
And that power, in itself, solved nothing. It was just a tool.
True solutions had to come from understanding between people—not from the edge of a sword.
And in that, I held neither the power nor the right to interfere.
The baron fell silent for a moment before speaking again, this time in a more reflective tone:
"I see... That's unfortunate, but I respect your decision, Sir Kiyoshi. Not everyone is born with a heart set for war. And sometimes, it takes time for one to feel they truly belong somewhere. Perhaps, in the years to come, once you've put down roots and built deeper bonds here, you'll consider using your strength to protect the people you care about."
I didn't reply. I simply held his gaze with a calm expression.
But then, with a more relaxed smile—too casual to be entirely innocent—he followed up with his next question:
"Speaking of less serious matters..." the baron said casually, "tell me, Sir Kiyoshi, has any young lady caught your eye lately? You're of age to marry, after all. Perhaps, once the princess begins her time at the Academy, it would be a good opportunity to find a wife."
Ah.
So this was his true aim all along.
The question had been elegantly phrased, but its intent was clear.
To gauge my ties.
To assess my political worth.
To confirm whether I was "available"... for a convenient alliance.
I glanced down at my plate for a brief moment before raising my eyes again, calm and composed.
Even though I had arrived in this world with no way of returning, I still held on to a vow made in my previous life. As long as I didn't lose hope of going back, I would keep it.
Because I knew she would be waiting too, true to her word.
"About that..." I said clearly, "I'm already married."
The silence that followed was abrupt—and total.
A faint metallic clink broke the air as a fork fell to the floor, its noise amplified by the sudden stillness.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sara. Her face was frozen in pure astonishment—eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. There was something else in her expression, though... disappointment?
Was all this fuss really necessary?
The princess, in contrast, barely reacted. She simply kept eating with her usual serene elegance, as if she had already known—which she did—and, more importantly, as if it didn't matter at all.
Aldren, for his part, seemed caught off guard only briefly. Then, narrowing his eyes slightly, he studied me in silence. He leaned in gently and spoke again with the same refined courtesy as always:
"I see... That is wonderful news. Though a bit belated, allow me to offer you my sincerest congratulations. May I ask the name of the lady who's had the honor of sharing your life?"
"Her name is Kobayashi Rena," I replied, my voice softer. "She's gentle, kind... and above all, incredibly intelligent. So kind, in fact, that sometimes I feel I don't deserve her."
The baron nodded with a subtle smile.
"It's always heartening to hear a man speak that way about his wife. Genuine affection is always worthy of respect. However..." —his eyes gleamed with curiosity— "I haven't heard of her. Not even a rumor about a lady accompanying you. Might she be from a noble family abroad?"
"Y-yes," I said, inserting a deliberate pause. "Her health is delicate, unfortunately. She avoids public appearances. Rarely leaves home, which may explain why she's not on the social radar."
"I understand... My respects to her. May her condition improve in time," Aldren said, bowing his head politely, not pressing further.
The tension in the room seemed to dissipate little by little, as if the very air decompressing. Soon, the conversation resumed a more relaxed rhythm.
The tension from the previous night had faded like mist under the sun.
Morning arrived faster than expected, golden light filtering through the windows.
The mounts had rested.
The breeze was fresh, and the clear sky promised good weather for travel.
While I loaded a few belongings into the carriage, Sara approached with a slightly hesitant look.
"It's a shame you have to leave already..." she said with a kind smile. "You should stay a bit longer, if you'd like."
"I truly appreciate the hospitality, but the princess can't be away from the capital for too long. If the king finds out, he'll probably scold her. Besides, I need to deliver a verbal report on what happened with the southern ants."
Verbal—because for some reason, people in this world couldn't understand anything I wrote.
Even though I could speak and read their language.
Was my handwriting really that bad?
"I see... Well, someone as important as you must be busy all the time. I'm not surprised."
"I'm not as busy as you might think," I replied, tightening the straps on the luggage. "Though lately, yes... I've been traveling quite a bit."
"Is it... to help that person?"
"That person?"
"Your wife," she said, glancing at me sideways.
"Ah... well. It's complicated, but yes, you could say many of my decisions are made for her sake."
Sara lowered her gaze slightly, as if searching for words. Then she took a deep breath.
"I see... You're still as kind as you were when we first met. I never really got to thank you properly for that day. It's not much, but please... take this."
She extended her hands and offered me a small object. I took it carefully.
"What is this...?"
It was a simple but well-crafted necklace. Hanging at the center was a stylized cross with four interwoven lines. I recognized the symbol instantly.
"The Faith of the Four Encounters..." I murmured.
It was the main religion of this world.
According to its followers, everything began with Linaz, the goddess of paths and promises—she who wove the cycle of life with threads of stars and wrapped them in an eternal circle. She wasn't a goddess of towering temples or divine punishments. Linaz didn't demand sacrifices, but understanding. She didn't ask for obedience, but for each soul to find itself along the journey it had been given.
And to guide mortals, she planted four inevitable Encounters within every soul.
The Encounter with Life, the very first, was when the soul awoke in flesh and tears, recognizing for the first time the world it had been granted. In that moment, bonds were formed: family, language, identity.
Then came the Encounter with Love. This wasn't only about loving another person, but discovering what made your heart resonate—an art, an ideal, a cause, a gaze. To love meant to find something or someone that gave color to the world, that made routine sacred, that made everything worthwhile.
Later came the Encounter with Destiny, perhaps the most mysterious of all. It was when one understood why they had been born. It wasn't always a glorious or obvious moment. Sometimes it was a simple act, a silent sacrifice, a word spoken at the right time. In that moment, the soul left its mark on history—whether small or grand, it would be eternal.
And lastly... the Encounter with Death.
Not as punishment, nor as an abrupt ending, but as the natural close to a sacred cycle.
In this faith, death wasn't a fall, but an understanding. Death, like life, had to carry meaning.
Only by finding that meaning—the purpose of their departure—could a soul leave in peace, free, and whole.
It was said that those who fulfilled their Encounters would be guided by Linaz through the veil, where their memories would be planted like seeds for the souls to come.
I was never particularly devout. Not in my world, nor in this one.
But I never mocked others' beliefs either. After all, who could claim certainty in a world full of magic, spirits, and unexplainable miracles?
What was strange was that I could use the same sacred arts as the paladins—even without faith in the goddess.
Sometimes I wondered whether that was proof she did exist... or that she didn't.
I then recalled an old conversation with Arata, my best friend since childhood. He always said that religion, at its core, had just been a tool for those in power. First temples, then the press, and finally, social media. Controlling faith, controlling information... it was the best way to dominate the masses.
He was always a skeptic.
But if you listened to him long enough, you'd end up agreeing with him—unfortunately.
Well... maybe four out of five times.
Here, the Faith of the Four Encounters took on different shades depending on the region. In the Kingdom, they exalted the encounters of Life and Love: family, home, harmony.
Meanwhile, the Empire of Algorythia honored above all the encounters of Destiny and Death: war as sacred duty, sacrifice as divine purpose.
I weighed the necklace in my hand for a moment. Then looked up.
"Thank you, Sara. I'll take good care of it."
"May the goddess Linaz bless your Four Encounters," she said, her voice serene.
She smiled, though her eyes swirled with a storm of unspoken words. A smile that carried more than she dared to express.
"What about you come with us to the capital, Sara. A trip every now and then wouldn't be so bad," the princess commented, her tone casual—but her invitation sincere.
At her words, Baron Aldren turned his gaze to his daughter, awaiting her response.
However...
"I must politely decline your offer, Your Highness," Sara said, bowing her head slightly. "I have no business in the capital, and I'd only be a burden during your journey. I'll work hard so that one day, I may be worthy of joining you on a real adventure."
It was a polite and firm response.
To her, perhaps, the best way to thank us for saving her was to avoid becoming an obstacle—and to maintain some distance out of respect for my wife.
That decision, while noble, went directly against her father's ambitions.
It wasn't that I was unaware of her feelings. I'd noticed them long ago.
Deep down, I knew she was a good girl—kind, thoughtful, with an honest gaze untouched by the pretenses of noble society.
Perhaps, in another time, we could've been good friends.
But spending more time together would only prolong a pain she didn't deserve.
So I remained silent.
"In that case, I wish you a good journey. I'll return to my duties, if you'll excuse me," said the baron.
"Take care, Kiyoshi... Princess. I hope we meet again soon," said Sara, offering one final bow before vanishing behind the mansion doors.
Both she and the baron went inside, closing the doors behind them.
Everything was ready to depart. I had one foot on the carriage when—
Slap!
The echo of a slap cut through the air. A sharp, clean sound.
I didn't need to see it to know what had happened.
I turned immediately, heart pounding with anger, and took a step toward the mansion—but a hand gently closed around my arm.
It was the princess. She looked at me with a mixture of sorrow and seriousness.
"Don't, Kiyoshi," she said, almost in a whisper.
"But..." I protested, holding back my fury. "That wasn't right. We can't just stand by."
Elsya lowered her gaze for a moment, her expression hardening from frustration.
"I know," she replied. "But you know what it means to interfere in noble family matters."
My fist clenched tightly. I wanted to act—do something, anything.
But what right did I have to intervene?
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "It was my mistake to invite her. I know the situation of House Mathrael. I shouldn't have put her in that position."
I shook my head, frustrated.
"It wasn't your fault... it's just... I hate standing by, doing nothing."
"I know," she whispered. "And that's why... you're you."
I wanted to keep going—to say something more.
Something that could justify that part of me that always wanted to dive into problems that weren't mine.
But I didn't.
I knew full well that if I stepped in now, I'd be accepting responsibilities that didn't belong to me.
And the cruelest part of all was that, sooner or later, I would return to my own world.
And when that happened... who would bear the consequences of the damage I left behind?
"I can't take on bonds I'm not willing to protect until the end," I thought.
I already knew the baron wanted his daughter to grow closer to us—both to me and to the princess.
A visible connection to royalty would boost his house's prestige.
But what enraged him was Sara's refusal of the princess's invitation.
No matter how polite, it could be interpreted as an offense to royal blood.
And in the politics of this world, that was enough for a family to lose its honor... or even fall into ruin.
Even though we all knew the princess hadn't been offended in the slightest, in the twisted logic of nobility, that didn't matter.
The baron lived in paranoia. I couldn't blame him. His lineage had already been on the brink of extinction once.
For him, politics wasn't a game—it was a matter of survival.
I climbed into the carriage in silence, a knot in my throat.
It was time I started asking myself just how far I was willing to commit to this world.
And so, with thoughts I couldn't shake off, we resumed our journey back to the capital.
--
We had finally arrived at Axis, the capital of Vectoris.
We were now in the palace. Although I had seen it before, seeing it again left the same impression as the first time: a mix of awe, admiration... and a slight sense of unreality. It was immense, luxurious, perfectly clean—almost like something out of a dream. I had heard rumors that the palace of the Algorythian Empire was larger in terms of sheer size, but none claimed it had the same level of refinement as this place.
From my original world, I couldn't find anything truly comparable. Even though architecture and engineering had advanced enough to build skyscrapers, it wasn't a fair comparison—those belonged to a completely different era. Maybe the closest thing would be the Milan Cathedral, that marvel which supposedly took 500 years to complete. Or so I had heard.
And yet... this was something else entirely.
Many might imagine this world as a replica of our European Middle Ages: damp stone castles, narrow muddy streets, towns reeking of smoke and livestock. But that was the romanticized version from books and movies. The truth—the real history of our world—was far rougher, more chaotic, and dirtier. Probably only the Roman Empire came close to being as majestic as it's often described.
Here, though, everything was different. This city, this palace... they weren't an idealization. They were the ideal made real. Immaculate streets, harmonious structures, details carved with inhuman precision. Even the air felt purer, as if the atmosphere itself was part of the design. It wasn't just beautiful—it was functional, efficient... and in a way, alive.
I knew perfectly well that this difference wasn't a coincidence. Magic and fantasy—that impossible element in my world—changed everything here. It served as a tool in construction, an invisible guide that made even the most complex processes possible.
Thanks to it, this world could afford to have a Middle Ages... that was beautiful.
After an extravagant reception, we were already inside the great palace.
The princess and I were walking down its corridors, heading to a chamber that resembled a chapel, a place very few within the palace had access to.
"Quickly! Before those two old men stay so still we'll have to carve them a gravestone right there," said Elsya with a mischievous grin.
"I really hope that doesn't happen..." I muttered, a bit uncomfortable.
Inside the room, two nobles dressed in high-ranking attire were arguing heatedly.
"Are you saying they've finally made their move?"
"If so, that could be good news. With their support, maybe this war won't end too badly for us."
"Father..."
One of the men, red-haired, dressed in majestic robes with a crown upon his head, turned at the sound of the princess's voice.
"Elsya! You're back!"
"Father!"
Elsya ran to him and hugged him tightly. He was none other than Jordan Gauss Vector Solari, the King of Vectoris. He lifted her in his arms with a joyful smile.
"How have you been? Did you enjoy your trip? Papa missed you so much."
At first glance, he seemed like a good father... or at least one who tried to be.
He was the most important person in the kingdom, and he rarely had time to spend with Elsya. Unlike his other three children—two older sisters and an heir—she was the youngest, and therefore had the fewest royal responsibilities. That's why he usually allowed her more freedom.
But therein lay the problem.
Ever since Elsya had named me her knight, he'd begun using that closeness as an excuse to send her to various regions, knowing I'd accompany her as her escort. He even entrusted us with relatively dangerous missions, despite the risk to her.
And yet... he was still the most reasonable noble I'd met so far.
The kingdom was in crisis; maybe the shortage of personnel had forced him into drastic measures. Still, it was clear: to him, Elsya was also a disposable piece.
He was trying to be a good father, yes.
But deep down...
He was a king first, and a father second.
"It seems you've returned unharmed, Kiyoshi. I appreciate your hard work," came a firm, restrained voice.
It wasn't the king who spoke, but the man standing beside him.
A calm face, with a calculating expression and a gaze that seemed to pierce through words: Marquis Edrion Veld Gram Numir, one of the crown's closest advisors.
He wore black, carrying himself with an air that commanded respect. Unlike many nobles who clung to luxury as a symbol of power, he exuded authority simply by being present. He had the kind of intelligence that made itself known without ever raising his voice.
It was well known that he was one of the kingdom's brightest strategists—an expert in politics, diplomacy, and administration. His relationship with the king was built not just on trust, but mutual reliance. He was always present when difficult decisions had to be made.
"Thank you... Marquis Gram," I replied, bowing my head slightly.
He held my gaze for a brief moment. He said nothing more.
There was something about him... something hard to define.
Not exactly hostility, but not warmth either.
It was more like that uncomfortable sense of uncertainty.
If Arata were here... he'd probably have sensed something already.
He always had that strange ability to see deeper. To read between the lines without all the pieces. His intuition bordered on the absurd. I remember once, almost jokingly, he claimed a certain country was using secret technology to manipulate the weather. That their interference was wreaking havoc in nearby regions.
At first, we all thought he was exaggerating. Just one of his conspiracy-fueled fantasies.
Until, a year later, the documents were leaked. Scandals, sanctions, accusations. Everything escalated so quickly it nearly triggered an international conflict.
There was no doubt: Arata had that strange gift.
Though... not all of his predictions hit the mark. Like that time... when he was wrong about the identity of that girl...
Thinking of him now made me feel even more alone.
For some reason, being in this world stirred a deep nostalgia for the time when we started playing Runes and Worlds together.
Simpler days. When just having fun was enough to fill a day.
But that feeling had slowly faded after Arata quit the game.
Maybe I should have stepped away, too.
he probably didn't enjoy games anymore.
And yet... there were so many other things we could've done together, if only...
"How did it go with the southern ants?"
The marquis's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Oh, right..." I cleared my throat. "It was trickier than expected. Turns out that if the queen dies, some of the workers can metamorphose and take her place. That's why adventurers couldn't fully eliminate them. But we found a definitive solution. They shouldn't pose a threat to that region anymore."
"You're as capable as ever, Kiyoshi. Once again, thank you for your service to the kingdom," said the king with a smile, approaching while still holding Elsya in his arms.
"You know, Papa?" the princess suddenly interjected with her usual mischievous tone. "Kiyoshi said something weird... That in his homeland, people eat seeds that came out of poop."
The king raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Is that true, Kiyoshi? You certainly come from a... mysterious land."
"Uh... well, it's not exactly like that," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "There's a type of coffee in my world, called kopi luwak. The beans are eaten by an animal called a civet. After passing through its digestive system, the beans are collected, cleaned thoroughly, roasted, and then brewed into a luxury drink. It's not like we eat them straight from the... well, from the poop.
Elsya, please don't confuse your father with those kinds of summaries."
"Oh, ah. I see..." said the king.
The girl chuckled subtly, clearly pleased with the confusion she'd caused.
As always, I felt compelled to explain everything in detail.
I had this belief that any misunderstanding could be solved with a precise explanation.
Those kinds of games just didn't work on me.
As the conversation continued at its natural pace, two figures crossed the threshold unannounced. Their presence went almost unnoticed... but only by those who didn't know where to look.
Both wore armor stained with blood and dirt, the metal's shine dulled by the dust of the road. It was clear they had just returned from the front lines. They belonged to Vectoris's elite unit: the Knights of the Gradient, an order both feared and respected in equal measure.
"Look at them, still having the audacity to keep us waiting, and we're dragging our bones in after a day of war," muttered the shorter of the two in a dry tone—Leira Parameth Deltaris. Petite in build, with short blond hair and sharp eyes, her figure was almost comically mismatched with the heavy plate armor she wore. Nothing in her expression suggested she was joking.
"Well... you've got a point," her companion replied in a more mature voice, "but show a little respect. The king doesn't get much time with his family. Same as us."
Anis Synthia Modula was taller, with serene features and an imposing presence. Her hair shared the same golden hue as Leira's, though tied back in a braid. She carried a mace on her back—massive and intimidating.
"As if I care," Leira snapped, crossing her arms.
"Leira, please... behave."
The shorter woman rolled her eyes and then gestured subtly toward Kiyoshi.
"And who's that guy next to the marquis? Who is he?"
"Mmmh... I think he's the third princess's knight. Cedrek's been talking about him a lot lately."
"Oh, that guy? And what's he supposed to be doing here?"
"Well, if you see the princess is present, it's obvious. He must be here as her escort."
"What more protection does that brat need? We're already inside the palace."
"Leira, your vocabulary..." Anis warned with a sigh. "The palace may be the safest place for royalty, but even here, vigilance is required. Perhaps he's delivering a report on some mission."
"The king entrusted him with a mission? Is he supposed to be strong?"
"In Cedrek's words..." Anis paused significantly, "he's the pinnacle of the paladin's path."
Leira raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
"Cedrek said that?"
"Yes. And I don't think Cedrek is the type to make careless judgments about someone's abilities."
Leira turned back to look at Kiyoshi, who was chatting cheerfully with the king, seemingly carefree.
"I've never seen him at the front."
"Well, that's not exactly the role of a royal knight. Especially if he's a princess's personal guard."
"A bodyguard? Sounds more like someone hiding behind a title to avoid real work."
"Leira..." Anis frowned, tired of her companion's sarcastic tone.
"If he's really that strong, they should send him to the front to help us. We're terribly short on people."
Leira fixed her gaze on Kiyoshi again, this time with a mixture of disdain and bitter expectation.
"The pinnacle of the paladin's path... What nonsense. If he really was, he'd be helping people. Not having tea with the princess."
The scene shifts to three days later.
When the princess and I didn't have any particular tasks or weren't sent on one of our spontaneous trips, we usually stayed in the palace. On those days, my routine consisted of training in the mornings and spending the afternoons reviewing books in the royal library, searching for any clue that might help me return to my original world.
That day, however, something was different: I was training with someone, which was uncommon.
Crack, crack.
The dry sound of wooden swords clashing echoed through the palace training grounds.
"Phew... As always, it's so hard to stop your blows," said Cedrek, shaking the sweat from his forehead.
"Hehe, coming from you, that sounds like false modesty, Cedrek. You always manage to see and stop my attacks," I replied laughing.
The man I was speaking with was Cedrek Radialis, general of the Vectoris Gradient Knights and, according to many, the strongest person in the kingdom. Normally, no one had the chance to train directly with him, but given the circumstances, in the six months I had been in this world, I had truly become friends with him.
"Well, I didn't mean seeing them coming, but being able to hold them back," he clarified with a tired smile.
"Oh, really? Well, anyway, I'm still a novice with the sword. I'm far from the level I want to reach."
Although I possessed incomparable strength thanks to having been transported with my character's stats, that didn't mean I could be complacent or arrogant. I knew well that skill and strength were very different things. That's why, even though no one in this world could match my brute strength, I still trained daily to perfect my sword technique... since in my original world, I had never wielded a real sword.
"I wouldn't say that," Cedrek replied seriously. "I think you've improved quite a lot since the first time we trained. It's just that..."
"Just that...?"
"From my point of view, your style looked a bit more complete at the beginning."
"More complete?"
"I'm not very good at explaining these things," he confessed. "What I mean is, in that first fight, you had a way of holding the sword that projected more confidence. It was different from how you hold it now. Not that your progress isn't real... let's put it this way:
»Nowadays, you've gotten better with the sword. Your stances, your movements... everything is more technical. But is that really the style you need?"
"My style...?"
"That's right. The first time we fought, you had several openings that I corrected that day, do you remember? However, after a certain night, and getting to know more about your abilities, I reflected on your initial stance... and I don't think it was so wrong after all.
»I don't think many people in this world could lift that greatsword you carry, much less with one hand. The training I'm giving you is designed for conventional swords, but your original weapon and your skills require something different... a unique style. For example, if you wield that greatsword, you can not only use it as a cutting weapon but also as an impact tool. And also, with such an aggressive and pointed structure, it's difficult for enemies even to get close to you."
Cedrek's deduction was undoubtedly accurate.
My main weapon was called Heart of the Sun, a legendary greatsword in Runes and Worlds. It wasn't only one of the largest in the game but also one of the most strength-demanding weapons to use. It was, without exaggeration, one of the most broken items across all versions of the game. One of its most abusive features was that all damage dealt with it was simultaneously considered slashing, blunt, and piercing damage.
That Cedrek had come to these conclusions without ever touching the game spoke volumes about his experience and real combat knowledge.
The stance he referred to was the one I adopted in my early days, when I knew nothing about fencing. I only tried to replicate from memory the moves and positions I remembered from my character since each weapon had a unique animation in Runes and Worlds. To think that this was technically correct was beyond my imagination.
"Oh, looks like they're giving it their all so early in the morning."
The carefree voice came from Nerov Logharis, a warrior who had recently joined the Gradient Knights. His abilities were above average, at least by this world's standards. But his biggest weakness was, without a doubt, his relaxed personality and lack of responsibility.
After all, he had been the original escort of the third princess—the very same whose drunkenness the previous night had allowed her kidnapping... an event that coincided with my arrival in this world. Of course, he was fired and sent directly to the front lines. And I, unintentionally, ended up taking his place. Sometimes I felt bad about that... but what could I do?
"It's rare to see you awake at this hour, Nerov," said Cedrek as he lowered his practice sword. "What do you say? Don't you want to join the training?"
"Nah, the time I spend in the capital I prefer to use for resting. I just arrived, you know? And with how things are... who knows when they'll send us back to the front."
"Has the situation intensified with the empire?" I asked.
"Quite a bit. Night attacks, squads of mages, sabotage of our supply caravans... it's a hell out there. You go to sleep not knowing if you'll wake up next to a corpse. If this keeps up, the king will have no choice but to send all the knights."
"That's strange," Cedrek interjected. "There's only a month left until the Eclipse Convergence. This should be precisely the calmest period..."
"That's what we all thought," Nerov replied, shrugging. "But it seems there's something pushing them. Though if things get worse, luckily we have you, Cedrek-chan."
"Give me a break..." the general scoffed. "If things get out of control, I don't want to face that guy again."
"That guy?" I repeated, intrigued.
"You mean the Witherer, right?" added Nerov. "So? Do you think you could beat him this time?"
That name... The Witherer of Steel. I had heard it before. One of the six Rootaris of the Algorythia Empire. Elite warriors, each strong enough to be considered an army unto themselves.
"Even you couldn't defeat him?" I asked, puzzled.
Cedrek fell silent for a moment. Then, with a serious expression, he replied:
"The last time I faced that monster, he almost tore my arm off with his mace. If I faced him in close combat, he'd probably beat me. In open field... maybe fifty-fifty."
My expression tightened.
If Cedrek—the strongest man in the kingdom—couldn't take down just one of the Rootaris... then we were clearly at a disadvantage. Especially if there were six of them. The difference between the Kingdom of Vectoris and the Empire of Algorythia was not just power... but numbers as well.
But then Cedrek smiled slyly.
"I don't think I can beat him... but I know someone in the kingdom who could."
"Who?" I asked, genuinely intrigued.
That's when I noticed they were both looking at me directly.
"Ooooh, sure, Kiyoshi could take on that monster without problems," said Nerov with a mischievous grin.
"They're both towers of strength," added Cedrek. "It would be a fascinating duel: who's stronger, the Witherer of Steel... or Kiyoshi?"
For a moment I didn't know what to say. Were they really serious?
But their expectant looks left no doubt.
I shook my head, uncomfortable with the sudden attention.
"Don't exaggerate. I don't know if I could beat him... I'm not even sure I want to find out."
"Again with that modesty. At this point, I'm sure you do it on purpose," said Nerov, squinting with a smile.
"You have a good point," Cedrek added, giving me a light nudge.
While they teased me with their casual conversation, a figure came running down the corridors of the east wing. It was a young woman with chestnut hair tied neatly in a braid, dressed in a simple pale blue uniform: one of the castle's servants. Seeing us, she immediately stopped and bowed respectfully.
"Good morning, Sir Cedrek, Sir Nerov... Sir Kiyoshi. Sorry for the interruption, but I bring an urgent message."
"What's going on, Noelia?" Cedrek asked, recognizing her instantly.
The young woman looked up, visibly uneasy.
"The Marquis and His Majesty the King request the presence of both of you in the meeting room. Immediately."
"Both?" Nerov repeated, now more serious.
"Yes. They expressly instructed that you both must attend together. There is... an important matter to discuss."
Cedrek straightened up. His carefree tone vanished instantly.
"Understood. Thank you, Noelia. Tell them we're on our way."
The servant nodded and quickly left the way she had come. The atmosphere shifted. It was as if a gust of cold wind had swept away the warmth from the courtyard.
"Well, you two who were so bored... it looks like you have work to do now," Cedrek remarked with a half-smile.
"I guess the break is over," murmured Nerov as he adjusted his cloak.
"I hope it has nothing to do with matters outside my duties as escort..."
"Come on, Kiyoshi. Sooner or later, you'll have to go to the front with us. Stop playing the reserved one," Nerov said, giving me a pat on the back.
"I'll think about it."
"You better get moving. And get rid of that smell of alcohol before you present yourself. The Marquis is strict and doesn't like that kind of thing," Cedrek warned.
"Damn, I forgot!" Nerov growled before rushing off to his quarters to clean up.
"Well... I suppose I should go too," I said with a sigh.
Just before I fully left, Cedrek rested his hand on my shoulder. His tone was low, barely a whisper.
"Don't let your guard down with the Marquis. So far he hasn't shown ill intentions, but... the prince is starting to suspect he's plotting something."
"I'll keep that in mind," I nodded, maintaining a serious expression.
We both set off toward the meeting room without exchanging any more words.
Upon arriving, the atmosphere was tense but formal. Inside were His Majesty the King, the Marquis of Gram... and a young woman in armor whom I quickly recognized. By the colors of her cloak and the emblem engraved on her breastplate, it was clear: she belonged to the Gradient Knights.
The Marquis stood next to the King, hands clasped behind his back. Beside him, the young knight held an impeccably straight posture, almost ceremonial.
It was the Marquis who broke the silence.
"Thank you for coming so quickly," he said with a slight bow of his head, his voice deep and calm. "I know you were enjoying a moment of rest, but the matter that brings us together is of utmost urgency."
He paused briefly, then extended his hand toward the young woman beside him.
"Allow me to introduce Anis Modula. She is one of the youngest captains among the Gradient Knights."
Anis stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
"It is an honor to meet you. I have heard much about you... especially about you, Sir Kiyoshi."
I blinked, slightly uncomfortable. Again with that exaggerated reputation? Or maybe she meant the rumors... although I wasn't sure if they were good or bad. I just knew I would have preferred to go more unnoticed.
"Likewise..." I replied, trying to keep my composure.
The Marquis resumed speaking with a graver tone.
"About a month ago, reports began arriving from the northern mountainous regions. Villages completely destroyed, roads stained with blood... and above all, a growing presence of orcs. We are not talking about simple roaming groups or bands of looters... but something much more dangerous. A massive concentration. A large camp. A buildup of forces that we haven't seen in years."
His expression hardened.
"The orcs are organizing. We don't yet know how many there are or for what purpose, but some reports speak of hundreds, maybe more. Nearby villages have been brutally attacked. They burn everything, kill indiscriminately... and worst of all: capture survivors only to torture them and use them as sacrifices in abyssal rituals."
Anis clenched her fists upon hearing this, though she remained silent.
"Of course," continued the Marquis, "an attempt was made to contain the situation by sending adventurers. Special rewards were even offered to attract high ranks. Class B and A adventurers were sent... none returned. We found no bodies, no traces. We can safely assume they were all annihilated."
He sighed, restraining his frustration.
"As you know, adventurers do not answer to a chain of command like soldiers. They are free to accept or refuse assignments. And since the rumors began... no one else has wanted to take those missions. The guild's notice board has gone days without anyone even looking."
I stayed silent, but something inside me stirred with a familiar unease.
Orcs.
A dark memory surfaced clearly in my mind.
In Runes and Worlds, orcs didn't exist in the first versions. They appeared for the first time in the fifth. They were not simple brutal creatures. They were a dark, cruel race. Gifted with limited intelligence, barely a step below human, but with physical strength easily triple that of any common man.
And the most terrifying thing... was their affinity with abyssal power.
The Abyss.
A corrupt and viscous magic. A force that poisoned the land, twisted the mind, and rotted even the soul.
I came back to myself when I noticed the Marquis had paused, as if waiting for our reaction.
"I understand..." I said slowly. "And what is the plan? What is expected of us?"
The Marquis nodded, as if he had been expecting exactly that question.
"We will discuss that shortly, but first, I want to know: what do you think about an incursion into orc territory... knowing what I've just explained?"
I looked at Nerov. He also seemed more serious than usual. The relaxed atmosphere of the courtyard was completely left behind.
"From what you say, it seems they're in a critical situation that the adventurers can no longer control. Under those conditions, we have no choice but to mobilize the militia to deal with the orcs."
The Marquis let silence settle in the room for a moment before speaking firmly:
"Adventurers have stopped responding weeks ago. And every squad sent since then has been massacred. We can no longer keep waiting. That threat must be eradicated. The longer we let them grow, the harder it will be to stop them later."
"Crossalia, the nearest city, could fall at any moment."
He turned toward the King briefly, seeking his approval. The monarch, with a shadowed expression, nodded silently. Then the Marquis returned his attention to us.
"The villagers in the region are begging for help. I don't exaggerate when I say their pleas arrive every day. Letters, messengers, peasants willing to risk their lives just to get here. They need us. But..."
He stopped. Frowned gravely.
"...we are at war. Every unit, every platoon, every squad is committed to defending against the Empire. We cannot afford to divert forces to the north, no matter how urgent the situation. It would be a strategic error... and perhaps exactly what the enemy expects."
There was no cynicism in his words. It was a harsh fact. And none of us could argue with it.
"That is why," the Marquis continued, lowering his tone slightly, "I have decided to take a different approach. An extermination mission with a small but highly competent force. An elite unit. Capable of eliminating the orcs without requiring a massive deployment of resources."
His eyes rested on each of us, one by one.
"Nerov. Kiyoshi. Anis. The three of you."
"Considering that orcs are not people," he added with a calculating voice, fixing his gaze on me, "it shouldn't pose a dilemma for you, should it, Kiyoshi?"
I remained silent. It was not a question. Rather, a statement wrapped in diplomatic poison.
Anis, as expected, was the first to respond.
"I accept," she said with the military rigidity that had characterized her since her introduction.
Nerov let out a theatrical sigh.
"Hey, hey... elite unit? I'm beginning to think they're doing this on purpose. I agree with Kiyoshi, this already sounds like a suicide attempt. But me... wouldn't it be better to send Cedrek?"
Anis shot him a look. Not angry, but with that relentless condescension of a companion fed up.
"Cedrek cannot leave His Majesty's side. You should already know that. Besides, the front might require his presence if the Marchitador shows up again."
I still hadn't responded. Maybe because I didn't yet have an answer. But the Marquis didn't seem impatient. He continued as if he knew that, sooner or later, I would accept.
"It's not just about strength," he added gravely. "These orcs are using abyssal energy. Their rituals corrupt the land and warp natural laws. Even if they're strong, without someone who understands and can counter that kind of power, the mission would be doomed from the start."
He approached the large map hanging on the wall and, with a measured gesture, pointed to a region northeast of the mountains.
"That is why you must make a stop at the Lucciola Magic Academy. Although it is the only magic academy in all of Vectoris, that also means the best talents are concentrated there. It's right on the way to the north. Maybe you can find a professor, or some researcher crazy enough to accompany you."
"And if no one agrees?" Nerov asked, crossing his arms.
"I doubt volunteers will be lacking," the Marquis replied calmly. "After all, we will reward each one with five hundred gold coins. But if you still encounter resistance... use the King's name."
Nerov's eyes widened at the figure he heard. Anis, on the other hand, remained as rigid as ever, as if gold meant absolutely nothing to her.
Then the Marquis turned to me.
"Kiyoshi. I know you've been cautious about direct involvement until now. But this isn't just any battle. It's a threat that could reach here if we don't stop it. The King and I trust your judgment... but also your sword."
I looked the King in the eye. I knew that even if I refused, he probably wouldn't say anything. He knew well how precarious the kingdom's situation was. If I didn't go, it was very likely the orcs would keep massacring defenseless villages.
"Alright, I'll go. However, Nerov doesn't need to accompany us. I'm enough. He should stay in the palace and replace me as the princess's escort. After all, he already has experience in that role."
The King showed a clear expression of relief. His face said, without words: that would be perfect.
"That wou—"
"That won't be necessary," the Marquis interrupted, folding his arms with a slight smile. "After all, the third princess will accompany you."
"What are you saying, Gram? Elsya doesn't need to go to that place."
"My apologies for my boldness, Your Majesty," he replied firmly, "but I consider this suggestion vital to restore the trust of the northern population. Discontent has grown due to lack of control and protection. Loyalty to the crown hangs by a thread."
There was a brief silence. The Marquis took advantage to drive his point home.
"If we send the third princess as a symbol of commitment and solution, we can stop any possible insurrection. If a rebellion were to happen while we are dealing with the war against the empire... the country would collapse from within."
"I understand..." the King murmured, lowering his gaze slightly. "You're right. I cannot make selfish decisions at this moment."
"Your Majesty..." Anis whispered, her expression showing empathy towards him.
"Don't worry," the Marquis said, resuming smoothly. "Most likely, Anis and Kiyoshi will be more than enough to resolve the conflict. Nerov can stay behind to take care of the princess during the journey. After all, he has experience watching over her... right, Kiyoshi?"
He emphasized those last words with an ironic smile.
I held his gaze suspiciously for a few seconds before looking away.
"You will depart in two days," the King finally announced solemnly. "We will prepare everything necessary for the journey. Until then, please rest. I look forward to your safe and sound return from this mission."
And so, once again, the wheels of destiny began to turn.
Although I was retired from my player life, the echoes of those game missions, decisions, and responsibilities seemed to follow me even in this new world. But this time, it was not just a game. This time, it was real.
End of Part 1.