The path Yuzora opened did not feel like a road.
It felt like moving through water without getting wet.
The land bent gently around them—trees leaning aside, stones sinking into soft moss, streams parting without sound. Reeve followed a few steps behind, his boots barely leaving marks on the ground.
Ahead, Lunareth walked beside Yuzora.
They spoke quietly.
"You shouldn't have interfered," Lunareth said, eyes forward.
"He's unstable."
Yuzora's tone remained calm. "Unstable doesn't mean malicious."
"It means dangerous," Lunareth corrected.
Yuzora slowed slightly. "You sensed it too, didn't you?"
Lunareth didn't answer immediately.
"That power inside him," Yuzora continued. "It doesn't behave like raw mana. It waits."
Lunareth's fingers twitched. "It's probably a dormant bloodline. Or a sealed core."
"Or something else," Yuzora said.
Lunareth finally looked at her. "You think it's artificial?"
"I think," Yuzora replied softly, "that it doesn't belong to this world's logic."
They fell silent.
Behind them, Reeve watched their backs, catching fragments of words but not meaning. He wasn't trying to listen anymore.
He was busy listening to himself.
I can't even control it, he thought.
Not even a little.
[Correction: You are capable of control.]
[Limitation: Emotional resistance.]
"…Shut up," Reeve muttered under his breath.
He looked around.
The forest here felt alive in a way that unsettled him—not threatening, but aware. Mana moved freely through the air like breath. It didn't surge. It didn't clash.
It flowed.
They stopped suddenly.
Yuzora raised a hand.
"We rest here."
Lunareth frowned. "Why?"
"I felt something," Yuzora said. "A disturbance."
Reeve stiffened. "Someone following us?"
Yuzora shook her head slowly. "No footsteps. No hostile intent."
"Then what?" Lunareth asked.
"…Attention."
They waited.
Minutes passed.
The forest remained still.
No attacks.
No movement.
Finally, Lunareth scoffed. "False alarm?"
"Maybe," Yuzora said, though her eyes remained sharp. "Or maybe whoever noticed us decided not to act."
That didn't make Reeve feel better.
They resumed walking.
As they moved, Reeve began talking—half to himself, half to the silence.
"So… fairy kingdom," he said awkwardly. "Is it… like a city?"
Yuzora glanced back. "It's alive."
"…That doesn't help."
Lunareth smirked faintly. "Get used to answers like that."
Reeve sighed. "Figures."
While he spoke, Lunareth and Yuzora continued their quiet exchange.
"He asks too many questions," Lunareth muttered.
"He's human," Yuzora replied. "Questions are how they survive."
"He pretends to be weaker than he is."
Yuzora's eyes softened slightly. "No. He believes it."
That silence hurt more than an insult.
The forest thinned.
Light changed.
The air grew lighter, clearer—almost intoxicating. Reeve felt his breathing ease without realizing it.
Then he saw them.
Fairies.
Not glowing caricatures from stories—but people.
They walked barefoot along branches, sat cross-legged midair, leaned against nothing. Mana clung to them naturally, shaped by habit rather than effort.
And every single one of them—
Was in control.
Reeve stopped.
They didn't even notice him at first.
A child-shaped fairy guided a thread of water into a floating bowl without spilling a drop. Another shaped light into symbols that faded gently instead of exploding outward.
No strain.
No seals.
No suppression.
[Observation: High ambient mana control detected.]
[Conclusion: Fairy race possesses innate regulation superiority.]
Reeve's chest tightened.
"So… this is normal here," he whispered.
Lunareth noticed his pause. She glanced at him, then away.
"Don't compare yourself," she said.
He gave a hollow laugh. "Too late."
They walked deeper.
The fairy kingdom revealed itself gradually—terraced structures grown from crystalized wood, bridges woven from vines and light, flowing water suspended like hanging curtains.
Reeve felt small.
Useless.
I don't belong anywhere, the thought surfaced uninvited.
[Emotional deviation detected.]
"Yeah," he muttered. "I know."
Then—
They reached the castle.
It wasn't massive.
It didn't loom.
It simply existed—a structure grown from ancient stone and living crystal, resting at the heart of the kingdom like a calm heart in a living body.
And standing before its entrance—
Was the Fairy King.
Reeve froze.
Not because of pressure.
Not because of fear.
But because—
The Fairy King looked human.
No wings.
No glowing eyes.
No exaggerated features.
Just a man standing calmly, hands folded behind his back, eyes deep and unreadable.
[Warning.]
[Entity classification unstable.]
[Threat level: Unknown.]
Reeve's breath caught.
"This…" he whispered, "…is the Fairy King?"
Yuzora nodded. "Yes."
The king's gaze shifted.
Locked onto Reeve.
And in that instant, Reeve felt as if he were being seen completely—past seals, past mana, past the voice inside him.
A faint smile touched the king's lips.
"…So," the Fairy King said calmly,
"this is the one causing the world to hesitate."
Reeve's heart skipped.
And for the first time since arriving in this world—
He understood.
The fairy kingdom was not a sanctuary.
It was a threshold.