The first thing Alphonse noticed was the smell. Good lords above and below the smell. It was as if a man who had one two many drinks decided to both fornicate with and defecate on a not-so-freshly withered corpse.


    The second thing the aged young prince noticed was his clothing. More specifically, the lack thereof. Standing himself up and looking himself over, a few key details seemed to be both present and absent. Long gone were the regal robes and linens he had appeared before the king in, his crown, wand, boots, even his lucky necklace had all been fleeced from him by some interdimensional thief.


    ''When father gave me a dressing down I didn''t expect him to also do it literally! He could of at least left me underwear. Now I''m gonna look like freak.'' Alphonse, ever the socialite, thought to himself begrudgingly.


    However, not all hope was lost, as a wave of relief passed over the young amateur nudist as his eyes passed over the ring on his index finger, still delicately yet firmly holding the emerald that acting as the focus for his casting. As a properly trained mage, he didn''t necessarily need a focus or a guide, but casting his specific flavor of magic would be rather, messy, otherwise.


    Flexing his wings, the voyeurs dream took to the skies, hovering himself just above the tree line.


    ''Not a village nor a building nor a tailor in sight! At least I''ll have time to fashion myself some clothes before I have the displeasure of taking over a territory. What even defines a land in the first place? Would a town suffice?'' A fair question that would have to be answered after he found proper clothing.


    Lowering himself to the ground, Alphonse called upon the ever-present power within himself. Turning towards the nearest large tree, he placed a gentle hand upon it''s bark.


    "I''m sorry, young sprout, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Your kind shall thrive in your absence." Closing his eyes, he took a small breath before continuing.


    "Touch of Death - Intricate Fabrication" As the last word left the prince''s mouth, the tree before him began to wilt and rot in an instant, twisting and cracking as if were being squeezed by a giant. Yet at the same time, the piece of the tree that was touching the death mage began to change, from a simple hard bark into a soft weave.


    As the leaves of the tree wilted and fell, the branches turning to dust and it''s roots drying, the plant-fiber continued to take shape before the Lord of Ash and Dust. In a matter of seconds, the tree had turned from a beautiful oaken titan to nothing more than a gnarled root and a pile of ash slowly sifting into the wind. That is, if you were to ignore the simple brown shirt, under garments, and pants that had been ripped from it.


    ''With my time limited by nudity and without a proper wand, even moderately high tier magic quite an inefficient process.'' The prince thought as he sighed deeply, dressing himself with the surprisingly soft material.


    Yet as he dressed himself, the strange feeling in his head was starting to become nearly unbearable. At first, it was a dull picking, like a thorn stuck in an unfavorable place, but after his relatively simple display of magic, it had flared to nearly piercing pain. Focusing on that pain and it''s strange weight in his head, something appeared in Aphonse''s vision. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    [ Magic Registered - Analyzing Appropriate Rating ]


    [ Status Registration Update Complete ]


    [ Name - Alphonse ]


    [ Class - Arch Death Wizard ]


    [ Level - Undetermined ]


    ''What the fuck?'' Alphonse exclaimed, the pain disappearing, instead replaced with naked confusion. ''How? When? What? I thought that access to the network was the birthright of the lower realms. Was I forcefully added, or was that a lie?''


    The confusion was warranted for the fae-born mage. Typically, those born of the Higher Realms, consisting of the Fae Wilderness, the Great Darkness and the Fiery Planes, are born and live their entire lives without ever accessing the system used by the Lower Realms. It was taught to those in the Higher Realms that it was a balancing act. They were born in planes of high mana, blessed with longer lives and heartier bodies. In order to be able to catch up, the Gods blessed those born of the Lower Realms with the network. A system designed and divined to allow for rapid growth, allowing the best of the Lower Realms to stand toe-to-toe with their longer lived counter-parts.


    Yet the system before Alphonse was completely different from all of the stories he had heard from those connected. Large long charts, separate tabs, various lengthy explanations and numbers, even a feature that could be used to contact others who nearby! Yet the only thing Alphonse could see and access, was the simple information before him.


    Focusing on the strange weight in his head once again, the translucent green screen disappeared, clearing his vision once again.


    ''Strange. Strange strange strange. None of this is right. I don''t have my soul-bound tome, I have some quasi-access to the network of the lowers, and I''m ostensibly trapped here! I don''t like this, I want to return to the Wilderness immediately! I need to find a city to conquer. Now.'' With his mind finally made up, Alphonse once again took to the skies, flying with the wind in a random direction.


    <hr>


    As the large, strange purple fairy took off into the skies at a speed no person ought to be able to fly, the hooded figure dropped their invisibility and approached the site of the strange magic.


    "Observation" The cloaked woman muttered, placing her hand on the now long dead stump.


    [ Oak Stump - Rotted and drained from the use of Decay Magic. ]


    As she read the notification, a shudder passed through her involuntarily. Decay magic is a school of the arcane arts reserved typically for only the most dedicated scholar, requiring an insane level of magical understanding. That orange and purple thing just used it to make a shitty pair of clothes.


    "Green One, Green One, this is Copper Three, reporting on the magical anomaly detected." The woman said, placing her hand to her ear and casting Wisper Upon the Wind.


    "Copper Three this is Green One, ready to receive." A voice replied nearly instantly, their words being carried over an unknown distance.


    "Green One, the anomaly was the appearance of an unknown humanoid. Subject is a male, roughly six feet tall, orange tinted skin, blonde hair, large purple wings similar to that of a butterfly. Strength unknown as detection was not an option, yet their ambient mana was thick, and they are capable of casting high-level decay magic. Last seen flying towards Isall." The woman reported in a mono-tone voice, studying the stump as she spoke.


    "Copper Three, report received. Return to a safehouse for a debriefing. We''ll follow-up with someone closer to Isall. Out." The voice cut abruptly. No matter how safe Wind-Magic based communication was, there''s always the chance a Sound Mage was tapping in for fun.


    "Well, that''s not very nice." A voice resonated behind the cloaked woman. Turning around, one of the worst case scenarios appeared before her.


    "I don''t appreciate being reported on very much." The anomaly said, slowly walking towards her.