Dawn broke and a brilliant ray of light rose above the horizon, illuminating the vast world below. On the endless, boundless plain, a gentle breeze stirred the wild grasses and flowers, causing them to sway like waves across rolling hills.
In the center of that immense open land stood a towering, lush tree. Even from tens of thousands of meters away its massive canopy was unmistakable, resembling a small forest. Its trunk alone must have exceeded thirty meters in diameter.
This tree appeared to be the heart of the plain, or perhaps a sign to all who arrived here.
Without warning, a flicker of blue light appeared a thousand meters away, growing brighter by the second. Several streaks of energy circled and rotated around a figure clad completely in gleaming golden armor. Only a pair of purple diamond-shaped pupils were visible beneath the helm. Held in both hands in front of the waist, a sphere of blue energy the size of a football pulsed with a terrifying aura.
Safe.
Lucien looked around him and, finding nothing dangerous nearby, exhaled in relief. The ball of energy in his hand slowly dissipated, and the golden armor that had encased his body began to disintegrate into motes of light.
He had chosen such a dramatic entrance because his last transmigration had nearly killed him. This time, Lucien was smarter. Upon arrival, he had prepared a charged energy attack, ready to defend against any threat.
Unlike most means of world travel, random transmigration didn't involve traveling through a light gateway or dizzying tunnel. One moment he was where he had been, and in the next blink, he stood here in a new world.
It was just dawn.
A cool breeze brushed Lucien's face as he cast his gaze toward the rising sun. His eyes then drifted to the giant tree in the distance.
At once, the ground in front of him thundered as something appeared with dramatic force. A ghost mask Harley motorcycle sprang into existence where nothing had been moments before. Lucien swung onto the seat and poured energy into the machine. Within a heartbeat, the motorcycle ignited in roaring blue flames and shot forward with thunderous power.
The entire machine looked like a crouched black metallic skeleton. Four meters of flaming steel, its front and rear wheels wreathed in dancing blue fire, and sparks trailing across the ground with every turn. The sight was stunning and bold, and the rumble of its engine struck like a drumbeat in one's chest.
Lucien removed his hands from the handlebars, produced a cigar, lit it, and enjoyed a pair of slow draws. Smoke rings curled upward as he savored the moment.
At the same time, a flask of eighty-two-year aged wine appeared in his other hand. A sip brought a soothing warmth that felt almost divine.
These were Cuban cigars, precious and rare. During his time in the Fate/stay night: Unlimited Blade Works world, Lucien had not indulged in them, choosing instead to smoke the local world's cigarettes. He had saved the Cuban cigars for this moment, storing them in his Golden Finger space.
That strange storage method had proven useful, even for luxury items like fine wine and cigars.
Truthfully, Lucien was slightly puzzled. He still had five years left on the "advanced cancer" countdown displayed on his light screen. Logically, given his mastery over his own cellular structure, there should be no active disease left. Yet the marker stubbornly persisted.
Soon enough, Lucien reached the colossal tree, having covered the distance in just four or five minutes. Only a tree this enormous could grow so thick. This was not an ordinary world.
Circle after circle of bark told stories of age and resilience. It could be the center of a high-level magical world.
Around the plain, the horizon was open and broad, dotted with ordinary trees that paled in comparison to this behemoth. Even so, the massive tree showed no detectable life energy, dispelling the idea of it being a spirit or guardian.
Curious, Lucien guided the ghost mask Harley against the trunk. To his surprise, the motorcycle climbed as if the tree were flat ground. At the canopy, he stopped and looked out over the plain far below.
Extending his perception outward, he detected a strong qi signature to the east, confirming the presence of a city.
With a surge of energy, the motorcycle burst into flames and vanished over the horizon like a streak of living fire.
Half an hour later, Lucien found himself in a market street of a bustling city built in a noble's architectural style. Stalls lined the cobblestone path and crowds buzzed with vibrant life.
There were cat-eared women walking upright in clothing that suited their form, dog-headed merchants, muscular werewolves hauling carts, and lizardfolk negotiating trades. Thankfully, true humans were present among them too.
Had he truly arrived in another world?
Lucien felt a sense of novelty watching these varied races coexist, a hallmark of classic fantasy settings. Elves, beastmen, and other humanoid varieties thrived here. After a moment of thought, he wondered whether any of these races owned a foot massage parlor.
Despite the strange populace, the buildings signaled a familiar sense of magic and commerce. Lucien decided his first priority was to find a tavern and gather information about this world. Perhaps he could recognize the plot or notable figures here. Otherwise, he would have to spend weeks just observing and learning local histories.
The crowd thinned as he wandered deeper into the street, passing fruit stalls and vegetable stands. He was relieved to notice the currency system was simple—copper pieces and silver pieces were common, and gold coins likely existed as well.
With a casual shuffle of coins, Lucien became comfortably wealthy.
Following the guidance of a cat-eared young woman, he slipped through two side alleys and approached the tavern district.
As he entered the second alley, a cloaked figure staggered toward him with heavy breaths and unsteady steps.
Lucien's nose twitched. The scent of fresh blood was sweet and unmistakable, more alluring than any normal life essence. His lips moistened, and for a moment, an instinctive hunger flickered within him.
As they passed one another, Lucien glanced to the side. The figure's lower face was pale, eyebrows drawn tight. From the soft curve of her lips, he guessed she was female.
Before he could react, the woman turned on him with astonishing speed. Lucien reached to grab her but detected a flash of steel instead. A cold blade met his grasp, and in the instant he pulled back, a sharp pain surged through his arm as her right wrist snapped, blood gushing like a crimson fountain.
Her movements were frighteningly swift. Turning again, she slashed toward Lucien's abdomen with a kukri-like blade, barely missing as he dodged.
The wind whipped away her cloak, revealing a strikingly beautiful yet wounded woman. Black hair flowed over her shoulder, accentuated by a purple hair ornament. A single beauty mark rested beneath her left eye. She wore a revealing dress with a high slit and dark purple stockings on graceful legs, finished with polished black heels.
Her appearance was alluring, but her hairstyle betrayed something ominous. A side ponytail, often used in fictional tales to foreshadow hardship or a tragic fate.
She looked fragile and injured, yet her eyes burned with defiance.
When she met Lucien's gaze, he felt a strange familiarity.
"Bowel Hunter Elsa."
Though this world was unfamiliar, the name struck a chord within him.
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