The next day....
"Alright, let's move out!" Atem ordered, his voice firm.
With a thunderous howl from Ranga, the direwolves dashed forward, carrying Atem, Gobta, and another rider through the forest.
The wind whipped against Atem's face as trees blurred past. Birds scattered from the branches, and lesser monsters poked their heads out from the bushes—only to quickly back away when they caught sight of the direwolves' glowing eyes and crushing aura.
Gobta clung desperately to the wolf's mane like his life was flashing before his eyes. "M-Master! This is way too fast! I'm gonna fall!"
Atem, calm and steady on Ranga's back, smirked slightly. "Hold on tighter, Gobta. You'll survive."
Gobta whimpered but didn't argue, though his legs shook the whole way.
---
The journey wasn't without trouble.
On the second day, a pack of Fang Wolves jumped out from the trees, growling and snapping their fangs. The direwolves stopped in their tracks, their own growls rumbling like thunder.
Before Atem could even give the order, the Fang Wolves whimpered and scattered, tails between their legs.
Gobta's jaw dropped. "They ran away… just like that! Our wolves are terrifying now!"
"They're more than terrifying," Atem said calmly, resting a hand on Ranga's mane. "They know who they follow. That's enough to make others fear them."
---
Later, a Lesser Ogre blocked the road, dragging a crude club behind it. Its red eyes glowed as it raised the weapon, snarling.
Gobta shrieked. "M-Master! It's huge!"
Atem narrowed his eyes. He didn't even flinch. "Stay back."
With a wave of his hand, a golden light flashed and Dark Magician appeared at his side. The spellcaster raised his staff, and a dark circle of magic swirled in the air.
"Dark Burning Attack!" Atem commanded.
A blast of purple-black energy shot forward, striking the ogre's club and shattering it into pieces. The explosion sent dust flying, and when it cleared, the ogre's face twisted in shock. Without a second thought, it turned and bolted into the trees, terrified.
Gobta's jaw hung open. "M-Master Atem, you're incredible!"
Dark Magician gave a slow nod of acknowledgment before dissolving back into the Spirit Deck. Atem adjusted his cloak and said simply, "We're wasting time. Let's keep moving."
Gobta, still trembling, whispered under his breath. "Incredible… but also really scary."
At night, they stopped near rivers and clearings. Gobta and the other goblins tried cooking stew with monster meat and herbs, but…
Atem took one bite and instantly frowned. "This tastes like burnt mud." He set the bowl down, his sharp eyes narrowing. "I'll handle the cooking from now on."
Using what he remembered from his past life as Pharaoh—simple spices, herbs, and patience—he cooked up a stew that filled the air with a rich, mouthwatering smell.
When the goblins tried it, their eyes watered with joy. "This… this is amazing, Master Atem!"
Gobta slurped loudly, steam rising from his mouth. "You're not just strong, you're an amazing cook too! Maybe we should call you Chef Atem!"
Atem gave him a flat look. "No."
That shut Gobta up real quick.
Several days later, the dense forest gave way to rocky cliffs. The road wound higher and higher, carved into the mountain itself. Then, at last, they saw it—
Massive stone gates carved into the mountain face, reinforced with steel and glowing with magic. The banners of the Dwarven Kingdom fluttered proudly in the wind.
Merchants, adventurers, and travelers formed long lines waiting to enter, their chatter filling the air.
Gobta's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Woooah! It's huge!"
Even Atem, who had seen the grandeur of kingdoms in his past life, paused for a moment to take it in. The scale of the walls, the weight of the gates—it was a true fortress, built to last for centuries.
"This," Atem murmured, his eyes sharp, "is what a nation looks like."
Ranga lowered himself so Atem could dismount gracefully. Gobta nearly tumbled off his wolf, but managed to catch himself at the last second.
As they approached the gates, Atem's cloak fluttered in the mountain wind. His eyes locked on the entrance with a mix of calm and determination.
"Alright," he said quietly, mostly to himself. "Let's see if Dwargon is worth the stories… and let's hope Gobta doesn't cause trouble before we even get inside."
Gobta, of course, sneezed at that exact moment.
Atem sighed. "This is going to be interesting."
The gates of Dwargon loomed above, carved straight into the mountain like the mouth of a giant fortress, swallowing travelers one group at a time. The line stretched far back—merchants with carts stacked high, armored adventurers with polished weapons, beastmen carrying exotic hides, even nobles riding in carriages under heavy guard.
Atem and his group stepped into line, drawing more than a few uneasy stares. A cloaked man, goblins, and Direwolves were not exactly an everyday sight.
Gobta, of course, seemed completely oblivious. He scratched his stomach and yawned. "Master, how long do you think we'll have to wait? I'm starving again…"
Atem's sharp eyes flicked toward him. "Control yourself, Gobta. Do not draw attention."
"Y-yes, Master…" Gobta squeaked, shrinking back.
Still, attention was impossible to avoid. Every time one of the Direwolves yawned, their fangs glinting, the line of merchants shuffled nervously farther away.
After nearly an hour, their turn came. A squad of heavily armed dwarven guards stepped forward. Their armor was polished to a shine, and their eyes were as sharp as their halberds.
"Halt," the head guard barked. "State your business in the Dwarven Kingdom."
Atem stepped forward, his cloak swaying slightly in the mountain wind. His gaze was steady, voice calm but carrying authority. "I've come to trade. My village requires tools and craftsmen. Nothing more."
The guard squinted at him, then at the goblins and direwolves. "…Hobgoblins?"
Gobta puffed out his chest proudly. "That's right! We're Master Atem's loyal followers!"
"And Direwolves?" another guard muttered.
At the sound, Ranga stepped forward slightly, his golden eyes glowing. A low growl rumbled from his chest like thunder. The guards stiffened, their grips tightening on their weapons.
The Oracle's voice whispered inside Atem's mind. <
"I know," Atem answered silently.
Aloud, he raised a hand. "Enough." Ranga obeyed instantly, the growl fading. The display of control only unsettled the guards further.
The head guard exhaled through his nose. "Monsters entering the kingdom is no small matter. You'll need to pass through registration."
Atem inclined his head slightly. "Fair enough."
After paying the entry fee and signing documents, they were allowed inside. The guards still watched them carefully, but none dared block their way.
---
The moment they passed through the gates, Atem's eyes swept over the city—and for the first time since entering this world, even he was impressed.
The city rose in layers, carved into the very mountain. Stone bridges connected platforms high above. Waterfalls cascaded down channels, their spray catching the light of glowing magic lamps that illuminated the streets. The roar of furnaces echoed in the distance, mingling with the calls of merchants.
"Fresh iron ore! Rare crystals from the northern mines!" one shouted.
The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat, herbs, and smelted iron.
Gobta's eyes sparkled, and drool dripped down his chin. "M-Master… food…"
Atem shot him a sharp glance. "Restrain yourself, Gobta. You shame yourself in front of an entire city."
"Y-yes, Master…" Gobta stammered, quickly wiping his mouth.
The Oracle's voice hummed in his mind again. <
"I know," Atem thought, eyes narrowing. "That's why we're here."
They walked deeper into the city, and Atem noticed the diversity—humans, beastmen, lizardmen, and dwarves mingling freely, trading, arguing, laughing. The city felt alive, a place that never truly slept.
The goblins pressed close, wide-eyed at the crowds. Gobta nearly stumbled into a dwarf hauling a stack of crates.
"Oi! Watch where you're going, long-ears!" the dwarf snapped.
Gobta flailed. "Sorry! Sorry!"
Atem sighed softly and shook his head. "You truly are hopeless at times."
Still, as they moved deeper into Dwargon, Atem felt something stir inside him. This was more than just a supply run. This was his village's first step into the world—a place where alliances could be forged, knowledge gained, and power secured.
The Oracle whispered once more. <
Atem's eyes narrowed. "Then we'll be ready for it."
And though he didn't know it yet, this trip to Dwargon would change everything.