《Hero of Hsura》


 1. "A Bright Future"

    CHAPTER 1


    THE FIRST ENTRY IN THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MASON COURBIS


    "A Bright Future"


    <hr>


    Baron Vuerix Ya¡¯Cerczik II; known as, ¡°Vuerix the Endless,¡± and the Overseer of ¡°The Limitless Fortress.¡± An Archdaemon that controls the Autarchy''s hold on the Eastern coast of the island-continent of Hsura. It¡¯s a lot of information to process, but in the end he was never that much underneath it all. He was a fiend, granted he was powerful both in strategic knowledge and magical potential. With enough time and effort, however, even the toughest of stones wear thin and crack.


    My name is Mason Courbis.


    I¡¯m the Hero, and protector of this realm.


    And if you¡¯re reading this,


    It means I¡¯m probably already dead.


    To Vuerix, though, I was nothing but a whisper on the wind until I was suddenly an uninvited guest in his private chamber. He spat up his evening tea right onto his priceless custom tapestry rug as he caught a glimpse of me from the corner of his eye.


    ¡°GUARDS¡ª¡± he screamed, as he readied a spell in his left hand. I was faster, however, as a thrown knife suddenly pinned his hand to his desk before he could finish casting, sending the destructive force of the spell careening through a nearby nightstand. His cry of pain twisted into a snarl as he reached for his sword with his free hand. As he grasped its hilt, however, he wailed and recoiled once more; through the pain and distraction, he¡¯d failed to notice that I¡¯d been using a Heat Metal spell on it ¡®till it had turned a bright orange. With both options thrown out the window, he attempted to push himself up from his desk only to find that the movement threatened to push his neck onto the tip of my blade. I stared down at him with a dull smile as I held his throat at knifepoint.


    ¡°Greetings Vuerix; my name is Mason. Welcome to your last dialogue.¡±


    Vuerix began to pool a globule of spit in his mouth as if to launch it at me, but a sharp and generous reminder of my bladetip at his jugular convinced him to change his mind. Instead he sneered at me as he began forming his final monologue.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.??¡°Just who do you think you are, trespassing so brazenly in my private chamber?! I am Vuerix the Second, Vuerix the Endless!¡±


    ¡°The Endless, you say? My, Vuerix, I daresay that if you wanted to live forever, you shouldn¡¯t have made so many enemies.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Then what say you, fool who has challenged The Infinite? My guards shall have you captured in but seconds. Your torture will be nothing less than severe.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say I haven¡¯t the time. I¡¯ll be cutting down The Watchful on next moon, so I can¡¯t exactly afford to stick around.¡± A wicked, manic grin spread across his face, which brought a light frown to my own. It was a bit unsettling.


    ¡°The gall! The sheer audacity! The stupidity, it¡¯s outrageous! I...¡± Vuerix blinked once, and looked around, trying to catch glimpses of his chamber doors, likely wondering why his guards had failed to arrive yet. I simply smiled.


    ¡°They aren¡¯t coming, Vuerix. This whole floor is quiet, and the ones beneath it are next.¡± I chuckled a little at that, and added, ¡°Did you know that humans slaughter livestock like cows and pigs for food? They¡¯re led to a place with no exits, and are left with nothing more to do but die.¡± I pushed the blade just hard enough against his thick skin to cause a small stream of blood to flow, and I could feel him wince. ¡°I imagine this is exactly how they feel, Vuerix.¡±


    ¡°Insolent brat! Delusional fool! You are nothing! You¡¯re meaningless¡ª insignificant!!¡± His golden-orange eyes turned wild, and he stared at me with an expression that overflowed with fury.


    ¡°JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer immediately; instead, I pushed my blade through his neck, and slit his throat. He gurgled pathetically at me, and acted as if he were trying to spit blood in my direction. He only succeeded in dribbling it down his chin and over his cheeks. As he fell over his desk, sputtering and glaring still, I wiped my bloodied blade upon his expensive-looking shirt.


    ¡°I¡¯m just enough to do the job, apparently.¡±


    Vuerix was never anyone special to me, aside from the first real step on my journey. Though any of the Barons would have sufficed as a first step, I chose Vuerix specifically because of his title, ¡°The Endless¡±. In my mind, putting an End to the Endless was a fitting sort of message I wanted to send, both to the Hsurans as well as to the Autarchy. After I¡¯d dealt with Vuerix and his elite, I began working my way down the chain of command, taking out his Daemons and higher ranking Devils within the fortress as well as a few of the more powerful Demons. It took time and patience, but eliminating the more challenging enemies through stealth and subterfuge was what I was there for. Once they were out of the way, I set off a signal flare from a balcony on the western face of the fortress; the Hsuran Resistance rose up from their hiding places in a furious battlecry, and charged. It was honestly one of the most motivating and moving scenes I¡¯d ever witnessed before in my life, and I had a veritable first-row seat. They fought valiantly until daybreak, and though they sustained a few casualties the fiends were utterly crushed. The East Coast was taken back for Hsura, and we had won our first victory in our campaign for freedom.

 2. "A Blast From the Past"

    CHAPTER 2


    THE SECOND ENTRY IN THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MASON COURBIS


    "A Blast From the Past"


    <hr>


    "This knowledge comes at a price," said the old crone. "And that price... is fifty dollars. Cash." She chuckled softly as her wrinkled cheeks turned up into a wry smile. I sighed and shook my head.


    "That''s a hefty sum of money you''re asking for. How can I even be sure you can tell the future?" I was sitting inside of an alleged "Fortune Teller''s" place of business, which was a very small house-shaped building off of the busy street of Broadway in the middle of down-town Chesterville. There was a sign out front that read, "Fortune Telling," in neon lights, as well as a small billboard with generic-looking text. It had been adorned with what reminded me of christmas lights in order to give it an air of mystery, supposedly.


    As you can likely surmise, the place that I''m describing can''t possibly exist on the continent of Hsura. Or even anywhere on the world Hsura resides upon, for that matter. The place I''m describing is actually located on a planet called Earth; somewhere far away from here I''d imagine. Please, bear with it for now. I assure you, everything will make sense in time. For now, I ask that you simply enjoy the story.


    The fortune teller sat in front of me, wrapped in shawls and adorned in various gaudy bits of jewelry. Her face was worn and wrinkled, perhaps adding to the character she was trying to embody. She smiled wryly with her arms comfortably folded as they rested upon the table before her. Between us sat a large, misty crystal ball that seemed to be filled with an almost tangible butt of smoke. It sat upon a lovely hand-carved wooden pedestal; the set looked as though it were valuable enough to be considered heirloom items, and quite possibly were.


    "Hm hmm, a skeptic, are we?" The old crone hummed softly and squinted her eyes. It wouldn''t be a stretch to say that she''d definitely encountered many who had doubted her abilities in the past, but what intrigued me was her air of complete and total calm. She held herself in a way that suggested she could wield true power, or that her performance was so convincing that she''d never yet failed to captivate her customers. I had to know why.


    "Perhaps, though I simply like to think of myself as cautious. I''ll make a proposal," I said, reaching into my coat to retrieve my wallet. "I''ll pay twenty-five dollars in advance..." I slid a couple of bills onto the table, and tapped them twice with my index finger. "... And I''ll hold the other half until you''ve shown me my future, on one condition." A gnarled hand slipped out from the shawls across the table and rested upon the bills possessively as a dragon might claim something for its hoard.


    "Hoo hoo, what a businessman," teased the crone as she eagerly accepted her half-payment. Her confidence suggested she believed that securing the other half was already as good as done. "And what is this... ¡°condition,¡± of yours?"


    "My condition is simple." I leaned in close and offered a small grin. Her eyes widened a moment as she looked into mine; I could see a faint, familiar glimmer within the deep wells of her pupils. I''m certain she saw the spark that lived deep inside of mine. "If I can figure out how you''re trying to trick me, I''ll take my money back." At this, the fortune teller offered a wide, satisfied grin.


    "I accept! I''ve nothing to fear, as what I do here is the furthest thing from trickery; you''ll simply have no choice but to pay in full once you see what powers I command..." She reached out and placed both of her hands onto the crystal ball as she let out a calm, slow breath. "... Now, tell me, Mason Courbis... What will you choose to learn about your future?" I smiled at this and leaned back.


    "... Show me what my life will be like five years from now." I decided to give her something easy.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Certainly," said the fortune teller. She leaned forward, and I began to feel a small amount of pressure emanating from her, as if she were swathed in a field of electricity, or emitting frequencies below the audible spectrum. My smile widened and my excitement began to grow; this was the real deal. As the pressure grew, the old woman''s eyes began to softly glow with an arcane energy. The mist within the crystal ball began to spin and the atmosphere grew tumultuous. A vortex formed, violent and powerful, before suddenly subsiding into an obscure landscape. I could see rolling hills, grassy plains, and mountains in the distance. The sky was dark and full of stars, yet the terrain was bright and visible as it was swathed by the light of the moon. I stared for a moment, eyes squinted, as I racked my brain in order to discern what this might mean. I wasn''t offered much time to think, however, as within but a few seconds, the landscape changed. It warped and twisted as if created by swirling water, until eventually it formed into a new vision. I could see the city in which I lived from the sky, as if from the eyes of a bird of prey. Then, suddenly, the vision dived down towards the streets and singled in on a small group of people. As the view became still, I could easily make out who the people were; my youngest sister and her friends, waiting at a stop light before crossing. They were smiling and laughing as they poured over something on one of their phones.


    "Fascinating..." I couldn''t help but say something. It wasn''t often I was able to find genuine magical artifacts, and I was quite pleased to see such a gratuitous display of one firsthand. The visions continued. The scene within the crystal ball twisted and changed once more and began to take shape in some obscure, dark location. Two figures moved within it, appearing to be a man and a woman, and though it was dark I could make out that they seemed to be in the heat of passion. The scene was difficult to place, as the lighting was poor, and the figures were nearly silhouettes if not for the small stream of what looked like moonlight coming through the closed blinds of a window. It continued for a few moments, almost begging the question as to what sorts of encounters this would suggest I''d have in the future, before eventually dissipating and twisting into something else. The last scene finally took form, and I could quite easily tell what it was supposed to be. I could see my parents'' house in the distance, standing quiet and still with no cars in the driveway. It seemed cold, empty, and devoid of all life. The trees in their yard, branches bare after the leaves had left them, bent and swayed as the wind blew through them. That last scene lingered for a while before eventually dissolving into mist once more. The crystal ball returned to its natural, cumulus state. The glow from the fortune teller''s eyes faded away, and her visage returned to normal once more. She let out an exhausted breath of air, but with a smile on her face that suggested she felt she was victorious. Surely she had shown me the truth, and I''d have no choice but to pay her in full, plus tip.


    "Hm hmm... Quite a lot to this future of yours, I see... where to begin, I wonder?" Her wide toothy smile remained confident for a moment; when she looked up, however, it almost disappeared immediately. My own expression was that of pure amusement. I couldn''t stop the mirthful laugh which burst forth from my chest.


    "Where to begin, huh? I think I''ve got an idea. Let''s see..." I brought my hands up onto the table and held them on either side of the crystal ball a couple inches away from its surface. The old crone''s eyes went wide and she shrieked in terror.


    "DON''T YOU DARE TOUCH IT!" She was furious, but beneath the anger, there was genuine fear in her eyes. My grin only grew wider as a crackling light began to shine from my eyes.


    "I don''t have to." A visible energy, almost akin to electricity, began to spark between the orb and my fingers. The "fortune teller" recoiled in shock and fear as the atmosphere within the crystal ball began to shift and change once more. As the mist settled, I brought the scene back to the vision of my home city from the sky, before once again zooming in to a specific street. Familiar faces were in view once more, those of my younger sister and her friends who had since crossed the street. One of the women retrieved a device from their pocket, and lit up the screen. I brought the view yet even closer to read the information displayed upon it; there, clear as day, was the present date. I let out a soft chuckle at that, and let the scene dissolve. "I''m impressed. I never thought I''d see a genuine scrying orb. It''s still divination, so you''re at least in the right school..." I looked up to her, my eyes still full of arcane energy. "It''s definitely the most impressive snake-oil I''ve ever seen." I forced a scene to materialize once more, and after a couple of seconds, we could see ourselves within the orb as if we were looking down from the ceiling. I moved the point of view down and flew past our table as I approached a door behind the fortune teller. I flew our vision through the keyhole and entered into an obscure, yet familiar dark room. Within, two figures were visible, a man and a woman, who were now sitting upon a sofa. Their faces and upper bodies were illuminated by the screen of a laptop computer, and as I circled around to see what it was they were viewing, I was greeted by a rather well-known social media platform. I could see information about my family and friends, as well as pictures of them. I finally let go of my control over the scrying orb, and the vision vanished. I rested my hands upon the table and looked up to the old crone, victorious.


    "I think I''ll be taking my money back."

 3. "A Flash of Light; A Flash of Life"

    CHAPTER 3


    THE THIRD ENTRY IN THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MASON COURBIS


    "A Flash of Light; A Flash of Life"


    <hr>


    I was born in the year 1986 CE (or AD) on the planet Earth. I lived on a continent called North America in a country known as the United States for approximately thirty-three years. My upbringing was fairly decent all things considered; I had caring parents that, despite common trends at the time, never divorced. I attended public school in a decent sized city where I faced little hardship or discrimination, and I always got along with my two younger sisters even well into adulthood. I had several friends, with whom I met on a semi-regular basis to relax and have fun. I frequented a local gym to keep myself in shape, which helped me keep a positive body image. I was a student at a martial-arts dojo, and after a few years I began to excel in the sport.


    Earth is a place that holds a lot of options and opportunities, or at least it was during the years I lived there. I looked back on all of my pleasant memories with a fondness I''d never quite experienced before, as if I had only just then realized how precious they were.


    By, "Just then," I of course mean the moment I left the "Fortune Teller''s" place. It took me longer than I care to admit to figure out exactly why all of this had hit me at that moment. That is, until I noticed the pair of blinding lights not five feet away from me. It wasn''t just realization that was hitting me; I was about to be hit by a car.


    "Ah yes," I thought to myself. "My life is flashing before my eyes. How clich¨¦."


    In an instant, I was nothing more than a memory, and perhaps a mess on the sidewalk. I hadn''t even stepped into the street yet; the car must simply have veered off the road suddenly. There was a single moment of overwhelming agony. It was a kind of pain I didn''t previously think existed. Then, as soon as it had washed over me, it was gone. I felt nothing at all. My consciousness began to fade away at a speed that, to me at least, seemed comparable to the rate at which an extremely dense file might be uploaded to the internet via dial-up connection. As I began to lose my sense of self, I looked back on my life one last time.


    Though I''d had many opportunities, I never particularly had a goal in life. I had plenty of friends and wonderful family members, and I was a part of a good few social and professional circles. I''d done well at the jobs I''d worked and found it easy to land positions that could support me. But even then, I always felt a disconnect. I was missing something called Passion. As far as I knew, passion was some sort of elusive magical beast which took up residence within the hearts of those with dreams. My heart didn''t hold such things.


    I was, however, born with the ability to see and feel things others weren''t. Some might call it a gift. I know I certainly did. As I grew up, I learned that there were plenty of stories of cases like mine, though I always found them in the young adults'' fiction section within the library. The planet Earth isn''t one that supports arcane energy; for all intents and purposes, magic doesn''t exist there aside from in fictional literature or interactive story-based games. On certain incredibly rare occasions, however, those with magical potential are born into the world, or quite possibly brought there through some non-natural means; the latter point is a hypothesis of mine, evidenced in part by the existence of magical artifacts scattered across the globe. Useful artifacts are incredibly rare, such as the Orb of Scrying I''d been just previously using in my last moments of life. Mundane objects, however, were surprisingly common; the simple fact that most people were physically incapable of using or even detecting them granted the illusion that magic was simply fictional to a majority of Earth''s population. Or, at least, I''m guessing that was the case.Stolen novel; please report.


    Despite never having a clear goal in mind, I was always drawn to these magical artifacts, almost instinctually. I would collect many of them and, as an adult, decorate my small apartment with them. There was a small rock sitting on my desk that I''d collected as a child. I''d discovered it on accident when I was looking for flat stones to skip in a pond; when I picked the stone up, it began to shine beautifully as it reacted to the mana flowing through my body. Hanging on my wall was a thick, two-pronged stick adorned with leather handles on both prongs, as well as engravings upon the wood. I''d found it on an overseas school trip I''d taken a teenager in an obscure English market claiming to be selling various occult objects and oddities. Most of what was for sale was simply junk, but the item I picked out turned out to be the real deal: a Dowsing Rod. Collecting small enchanted objects and tools like these was something of a hobby of mine, and I was always willing to put in a few extra hours at work for extra cash in order to add to my collection.


    That life was over now. I had an easygoing, yet magical and intriguing life spent collecting useless, yet unique and interesting artifacts... I spent weekends with my friends, playing tabletop games and drinking beer... I worked a somewhat well-paying, but honestly kind of shitty job... Actually, thinking about losing that last bit made me feel a little better.


    It was at this moment I realized that I had been thinking for about five paragraphs'' worth of exposition after the moment I had supposedly "died". The simple act of thinking was beginning to perplex me; if I had died, yet somehow continued to think... had I really died at all? Was this the afterlife? Given I was aware of the existence of magic, and even had magical potential myself, I mused for a moment about the possibility that I might, in fact, have a soul. I wasn''t exactly prepared for this concept, or the prospect of an eternal, bodiless consciousness.


    Just as the existential crisis was beginning to set in, however- I heard something. Not just thoughts, but real sound. After a moment, I began to feel something as well: a sensation as if I were falling over. My head started to pound, but I almost welcomed the pain; the fact I had a head at all had seemed beyond me just moments prior. Perhaps I had survived being hit by the car? If so, how had I managed to keep thinking like this? Was it a trick of the mind? As I continued to think, the pain in my head continued to grow until it was so intense that I began to see color. My world was spinning, and I couldn''t get a grip on where I was, or what was happening. The noise continued.


    "... -nn!"


    I couldn''t quite parse that one.


    "... -inn, Kinn! Say something!"


    I grit my teeth and winced as my pounding head was assaulted by the noise of a man incessantly shouting nearby. Somehow, I wrenched my eyes open once more and strained as I tried to make out my surroundings. I seemed to be looking at the sky, and above me was the silhouette of a man. A particularly loud man. He seemed to be shouting at me. When he saw me open my eyes, his expression softened a bit with relief.


    "Kinn, look at me. Focus. You have to get up. We aren''t safe here; we need to move."


    My brows furrowed at this, and confusion began to set in. After a second of struggle, I managed to fix my gaze on the man''s eyes.


    "Kinn! Are you listening? Can you understand me?!"


    Pained and numb, I slowly replied.


    "... Who is Kinn?"


    Instantly, the man''s expression darkened, and he appeared crestfallen. He clenched his jaw, swallowed hard, and reached down in order to lift my body off the ground.


    "... Never mind. Just... bear with it for now. Everything ''ll make sense with time."


    As the man began to carry me away, I watched trees pass overhead. My last thought before I truly slipped into unconsciousness was:


    "... There shouldn''t be this many trees so close to Broadway..."

 4. "The Explanation"

    CHAPTER 4


    THE FOURTH ENTRY IN THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MASON COURBIS


    "The Explanation"


    <hr>


    When I awoke, I found myself lying in bed. I almost took it for granted and let myself fall back asleep, but memories of what had just happened to me began flooding back into my mind. I opened my eyes wide and gasped deeply as I sat up in order to take in my surroundings. Far from the hospital scene I was expecting, I found myself in a strange room with stone walls and wooden flooring. There was a single window to my left with curtains drawn over them; the curtains seemed a little too fancy to belong to any sort of hospital. They were even embroidered. I looked to my right and found even less that made sense to me. A night stand with an oil lamp. Quaint. I looked over the side of my bed to see a bedpan upon the floor. A grimace took up residence upon my face. Not so quaint. I resigned to sit back onto the bed rest in order to take in everything one item at a time.


    First, from the look of things, I seemed to be inside a castle, or some similar structure. I had never been inside of a castle before, but I was fairly familiar with the concept. I looked around the ceiling for evidence of lights and found, to my dismay, a chandelier, similarly adorned with an oil-based lamp. There were no wires in sight. I looked to the walls and scanned for a full minute. Not a single switch to be found. To the floors then, and the baseboards around them. Full hardwood, a few rugs... and absolutely no outlets. A room devoid of electricity in all forms. A pit began to form in my stomach at the revelation that I was, perhaps, somewhere far, far away from home. And probably Kansas as well.


    "I need to find out where I am, quickly," I thought as I swung my legs over the left side of my finely-quilted bed. As I was about to stand, however, the pit in my stomach began to sink lower. Looking at my bare legs hanging over the side of the bed, I could tell something was deeply wrong; the legs attached to my body weren''t my legs at all. They were human, sure, but they belonged to the body of some other human, not me. I pushed the thought out of my mind, and instead pushed myself to my feet. Actually, in this case, I suppose they were someone else''s feet. I noticed the same problem regarding my arms, abdomen, and I assumed head to match. I had never piloted any other body aside from my own before, but the horrifying realization that I must be wearing someone else''s flesh was quite clear in my mind. I didn''t stop to marvel at my vessel outside of assessing it for injuries; thankfully, my new body was completely unharmed. I didn''t want to waste time looking over the changes. I couldn¡¯t afford to have this fresh existential crisis at the forefront of my mind.


    "I need to stay focused," I kept mentally telling myself. "Survival comes first. Everything else is secondary." Quietly, I made my way to the bedroom door and swiftly moved to lock it... until I found that such a thing would be impossible without a key. The locking mechanism seemed old, perhaps even antique. One might go so far as to say "Primitive," but I certainly wouldn''t. In a slight panic I scanned the room for something like a chair to prop up against the door in order to keep it from opening; to my dismay, I wasn''t able to find anything. I contemplated barricading the door with a nightstand, but figured it would do no good, given they were essentially short lightweight tables. With all my options exhausted, I simply made my way over towards the sole window in the room, and peeked around the curtain.


    I immediately squinted when my eyes were assaulted by bright, near-blinding light. As they began to adjust, however, I felt the overly heavy pit that had been resting deep inside my stomach nearly threaten to fall right out of my ass.


    The first thing I noticed were the mountains in the distance. Considering I had previously been standing in the middle of Midwest America as far as I could remember, realistically I shouldn''t be anywhere near mountains. As my gaze continued downward, however, it became very clear to me that I was nowhere close to Midwest America, or even perhaps the entire continent of North America. The building I was inside of was quite a few stories tall, and sat within what appeared to be a medieval European-style city, or something close to it. The streets were lined with tall multiple-story buildings, and the roads followed rings and winding paths in a pattern that seemed to orbit the general location of the building I was inside of. I could see cobbled streets, tiled roofs, and even a few beasts of burden shambling along pulling carts or carrying heavy-looking loads. What I couldn''t see, however, was even a single speck of asphalt. There were no parking lots, traffic lights, or cars whatsoever. There were no trains, or even trolleys. Even in the most remote places on Earth, there generally existed some allusion to the modern world. Even the most dedicated of re-enactments of older times carried with them the ease and convenience of modern technology. There couldn''t possibly be any city of this size that exists on Earth which still exhibits a quality of life straight out of the Middle Ages. I let the curtain fall from my fingertips, and stepped backwards away from the window.


    "... I must have been hit by that car a little harder than I thought..."


    As soon as the words had finished leaving my lips, I heard the door to the room opening. I''d been so caught up in my anxiety attack that I had failed to notice the footsteps making their way closer from the hallway outside. I swiftly turned and instinctively put up my hands to defend myself, knowing that it would likely, ultimately, do me no good. There in the doorway stood a rather peculiar-looking woman. She wore a long, flowing dress, or perhaps it was a coat, that left her right thigh exposed; underneath, she appeared to be wearing thigh-length black leather boots which sported perhaps a four-inch heel, along with some sort of cream-colored trousers. She wore various belts and shawls which attached to her bodice and hips at strange, slanting angles... though it all came together in a way I found to be oddly fashionable. Her outfit was perhaps close to what Earth might think of when imagining an adventuring mage. The most noticeable thing about her, however, was the pair of smooth, pointed horns which jutted out upwards from her forehead. I stared her down for a moment, squinting, and relaxed somewhat as it seemed she had no intent on bringing harm to me, that I could tell at least. I decided to try speaking with her.


    "Who are you?" I called out. "Where am I?" The woman smiled for a moment, and began speaking softly under her breath. I tensed up once more at this. After a moment, I felt a presence within my mind.


    Having never felt such a thing before, I would have to describe it as a near-physical sensation; it''s as if someone had opened a window in your skull, and were pushing at a stretchy membrane between the air and your brain. Like a headache, but one caused by an appendage inside your cranium, and you can almost hear it pushing around. Like the sensation you get where you touch or scratch something in just the wrong way, and you can feel a chill in your spine and pain in your teeth as a result.


    So I''m sure you can imagine just how much this startled me.


    I immediately jumped back against the wall behind me, and pressed my hand into the curtain covering the window. Frantically, I attempted to pull the curtain aside and find some way to open the window up; I felt that my chances of survival would likely be higher scaling a who-knows-how-many story building in a pair of briefs than inside a room with this person. Just when I thought my hands had found a latch, I heard a voice inside of my head. When it spoke, I didn''t exactly understand what it said as words, but I comprehended the intent.


    "Stop, please. I do not mean to harm you."


    I paused at this, and slowly turned to face the woman once more. She had not moved. Warily, I brought a shaky finger up to point at her, and raised a brow. She smiled, and nodded her head. I just squinted.


    "... Why have you invaded my mind?" My voice was even, and though I was afraid, my tone did not reflect it. I was almost impressed with myself. The woman sighed at that, seemingly relieved, and folded her hands neatly in front of her.


    "In order to communicate with you in a way you can comprehend," said the voice in my head. "I am sorry if I frightened you."


    "But... you can understand me, can''t you?"


    "I can, yes. I had cast a spell upon myself that allows me to comprehend languages. I can also understand the intent behind your thoughts."


    My brows furrowed at this. Spells? Magic? Horns? There was no level of rational thinking that could prepare me for this situation. I had no choice but to approach it with acceptance. I let my hands fall to my sides and I let out a small breath of air.


    "... Would you cast that spell on me as well, please?" The woman smiled at this, and offered a deep nod, which almost seemed like a bow.


    "Of course. But, perhaps I should leave you to clothe yourself first. I will have a servant bring in some clean vestiniments for you." I nodded once at this; she then turned to leave, and called down the hall in a tongue I couldn''t understand.


    "Acceptance," I told myself. "Just accept what¡¯s happening. Answers will come in time. Or... Maybe I''ll just die. Who knows. I guess it wouldn''t be the first time."


    <hr>


    I eventually found myself sitting down at a small table in a well-lit library-esque room. There were comfortable-looking couches with wooden backs and soft cushions, little tea sets, shelves upon shelves of books, and large, towering windows which let in the light from the afternoon sun. I was holding a small flower-shaped teacup and sipping something I''d never tasted before called, to my knowledge, "Tea of the Sage''s Tranquility." This is, at least, the closest translation into English that I could manage, so I''ve resigned to just calling it, "Tranquili-tea." I peeked over the petal-tips of my teacup in order to meet the eyes of the horned woman I''d met earlier. She had pale reddish skin, bright golden cat-like eyes, and sharp, over-pronounced canines similar to that of a Vampire''s. She, in turn, looked at me over the rim of her own teacup, and sipped quietly. I caught her gaze for a moment before I looked down to my lap. I took a moment to look over my new garments again; I had a decent-fitting beige laced-up v-neck shirt, and a pair of brown draw-string trousers. The tunic seemed to be made of something akin to silk, and the trousers were perhaps wool. It was hard to tell. I knew, however, that I couldn''t keep stalling for time like this. I set down my teacup and looked back up to the woman in front of me.


    "... Please cast the spell upon me."


    She nodded once at that, and leaned forward. "Please present your hand to me," said the voice in my mind. I swiftly complied. She reached out, placed her hand upon mine, and began chanting softly under her breath. I could see that her other hand seemed to be making a variety of motions as well, perhaps as if her fingers were creating symbols in the air. After a few seconds, however, I felt something familiar wash over me: magic. As the intent of her spell began to flow through my body, I felt a clarity begin to shine within my mind that hadn''t been there before. Somehow, instinctively, I knew that the spell had taken effect.


    "... I should be able to understand you now," I say, slowly pulling my hand back to my lap. I seemed relaxed now, but in reality it was taking everything I had within me to maintain my composure. Every shred of survival instinct inside of me was screaming at me to run, but I silenced them. Running would afford me no answers.


    After I spoke, the woman nodded once more and sat back. The foreign presence in my mind began to recede until it had fully disappeared. "Yes, correct." She spoke this time, and I did indeed understand her. It was rather refreshing, honestly. "I am sure you have questions; I shall do my best to answer them for you."


    It was my turn to nod, as I certainly had many questions. I brought my hand up to my chin and held it thoughtfully as I tried to sort out what was most important in my mind.


    "... Did I die?"


    "Yes, indeed," said the woman. "Somehow, in your world, you met an untimely end and perished."


    I furrowed my brows at this, but managed to continue. "... Who''s body is this?"


    The woman''s eyebrows shot up at that, and she smiled a bit. "Your body belonged to a man known as Kinn Stoneskin. He was a brave, if reckless warrior who recently lost his life as well. The moment he died, your soul entered his body."Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    I brought my hand up to my forehead and cradled it as if a migraine were coming on. "... Right. Why did that happen? Why did my soul enter his body?"


    The woman shifted her legs for a moment, and folded one over the other as she took a sip of tea. I hadn¡¯t realized it until then, but somehow the tea actually did seem to be calming my nerves. I reached down to take up my cup once more.


    "We approached Kinn some time ago and he agreed to become a vessel for you, on the condition that he were to be allowed to die in battle. We then gave him an infusion of blood that belonged to the great Archmage Astophillium Courbis and performed a ritual that the Archmage had taught my family centuries ago; the ritual bound Kinn''s body to Archmage Courbis''s bloodline, allowing his body to become a vessel for one of the Archmage''s descendants to reincarnate into, should they meet an untimely demise."


    She brought her teacup to her lips for another sip after that. I was left at a complete loss for words, so I resigned to do the same. Eventually, somehow, I managed to press on.


    "... So... Do you know who I am, then?"


    The woman smiled at this, and shook her head. "I know that you are a descendant of the Archmage, but I do not know your name." She then paused and tipped her head to the side as she finished her thought. "What is your name, if you do not mind my asking?"


    I set down my teacup at that, and folded my hands neatly upon my lap. "Mason Courbis. And your name is?"


    "Serin of Outcast House Xirai''Kuur." The woman once again shifted her legs and folded one atop the other. "I come from a noble family that abandoned the ways of our people many generations ago, thus we were branded as ''Outcast'' forevermore."


    I blinked once at that and furrowed my brows in mild concern. "I see. I''m sorry to hear that." The woman waved off my apology almost immediately.


    "Oh, don''t bother. As fate would have it, those same people who cast my family out are the reason that we had you reincarnated into our world. They are known as the Autarchy of Xoul, and they have chosen to invade the very continent we live upon, known as Hsura. Mason Courbis, it is our hope that you will help us to defend Hsura from Xoul, and to liberate those he has subjugated."


    As she went on with her explanation, a frown grew upon my face. I wasn''t exactly thrilled about what I was hearing.


    "... So this is an Isekai, then. I died, and I''ve been reincarnated into another world so that I can be it''s hero, because my great-great-great uncle or somesuch was an Archmage. Is that it?"


    The woman smiled again at that and nodded twice. "Yes, essentially. I am surprised, however, I did not realize your tongue had a single word for such a phenomenon."


    "Stories like these are very popular in my world as fiction," I explained. "There''s so many that the common media''s nearly oversaturated with them. Though I guess, given my circumstances, maybe they have a bit more inspiration than I thought they did. I wonder how many random schmucks have stuff like this happen to them... and how often they manage to make their way back."


    "I see," said Serin. "Interesting to be sure. I cannot say on the matter of interplanar travel, however; only the Autarchy''s leader, Xoul, and the great Archmage understand such things, and the Archmage disappeared centuries ago."


    I let out a sigh and nodded a few times. "... I hope you don''t mind, but... I still have a lot of questions I want to ask. It might take a long time to go through all of them." I frowned a bit as I said this, and I began to worry just how much pressure had suddenly been thrust upon me. Serin just smiled.


    "It''s not a problem at all," she said. "It wouldn''t be fair to present you with what comes next unless you fully understood the situation." As she said this, I let out a sigh of relief, and continued on with my line of questions.


    "... What is the state of technological advancement in this society?"


    Serin tipped her head to the side at this and raised a brow. "I... apologize, I do not believe I understand what you mean by that."


    "For example," I began to explain, "do you have technology, or magic, to precisely keep track of time? Do you have tools to measure time in seconds, or smaller increments?"


    Serin nodded. "We do, yes."


    "Can you predict the next day''s weather, for multiple regions, from a single location?"


    Another nod. "Potentially."


    "Do you have indoor plumbing?"


    "Our house does, as do most public buildings within this city. Grandhaven also has public latrines which are connected to the sewer system for those who do not."


    "Grandhaven- is that the name of the city we''re in?"


    "Yes, it is. Grandhaven is a small city-state located more or less near the center of Hsura, and has essentially acted as its capital for over two-hundred years."


    "Essentially acted?"


    "Hsura does not have any recognized form of central government, however, many of the local government figures operate on very similar values and codes; since Grandhaven acts as a major crossroads for many other pockets of civilization, it has grown into a sprawling mecca of trade, both for goods and culture alike. Thus, people tend to recognize Grandhaven as the approximate Capital of Hsura, since all practices and customs merge here to form one unified code."


    "What kind of continent is Hsura? It sounds as though the entire continent is one country."


    As I asked this, Serin snapped her fingers and uttered a soft incantation. A scroll was plucked off a nearby shelf, seemingly by the air itself. It then floated its way over, and descended into her hand. Serin set aside the tea set and various items upon the table, and then proceeded to spread out what turned out to be a map. As I looked down upon it, I was glad to see that it had all the essential bearings of a traditional map; the cardinal directions had different symbols representing them, and the number system looked a little more complicated than what I was used to, but it at least seemed correct. More importantly, Hsura itself was apparently a huge island-continent, comparable to Australia or Antarctica on Earth. I nodded a few times as I looked over the map with interest.


    "As you can see, Hsura is very large, but completely surrounded by sea. Hsura was discovered approximately three hundred seventy-five years ago, and many countries around the globe took advantage of its geographical nature and began to use it as, essentially, a prison. Ships carrying convicts sailed from many places to dump their unwanted criminals onto Hsura''s shores, and left them there to rot. However, despite what they expected, many groups of convicts began working together, and over time began to build a civilization of their own."


    I furrowed my brows a bit as she concluded her story. "... I suppose it is a bit surprising to hear that criminals from around the world were able to not only avoid killing each other, but were able to build a functioning society."


    Serin let out a soft laugh at that, and shook her head. "When I say ''Criminals,'' I do not necessarily mean to say they were all murderers or thieves. In fact, most murderers in other countries received capital punishments, and thus would have never been shipped to Hsura anyhow. Many of the branded ''criminals'' were simply those who were not accepted in the societies they lived in; those who were of the ''incorrect'' color, creed, race, religion, political mindset, sexuality, the list goes on."


    I blinked a few times as I took the information in. I hadn''t been expecting that. "... Well. I suppose it makes a bit more sense now." I paused for a moment as I looked over the map a bit more. "... What exactly is the Autarchy, and where is it invading?" Serin leaned over and poked the map at various locations; each location she touched was left with a small red mark.


    "They currently control the coasts through massive fortresses they''ve erected, and they''ve cut off several major trade routes with strategically placed strongholds in their attempt to put our economy and information network into a vice." She tapped a portion of land that rests Northeast of Grandhaven, and left a rather large red mark there. "This is their capital city. It is approximately three times the size of Grandhaven, perhaps even larger, and it is incredibly well fortified."


    "... How did they manage to build these... massive cities and structures? Didn''t anyone try to stop them?"


    Serin just sighed at that, and turned away. "... Xoul, the leader of the Autarchy, is able to utilize interplanar travel. The Autarchy itself exists on another plane of existence. There they created these great and terrible structures; Xoul simply willed the completed structures into our plane of existence, causing them to essentially manifest out of thin air. There was nothing we could do to stop them."


    I was visibly confused by this explanation. "... So if Xoul can just... teleport his castles onto any place he wants, why didn''t he just... teleport them on top of already completed cities, and destroy them?" This question seemed to deepen Serin''s depression.


    "... Xoul''s aim is not the destruction of Hsura. His aim is the complete subjugation of Hsura. The Autarchy proclaimed this when it first began invading Hsura this last winter, five months ago. Since then, he has captured and enslaved an uncountable number of villages and cities, and constantly commands his armies to take as many prisoners as possible. He views people as a resource, essentially." She looked up at this, clearly disheartened to be speaking of such things. "... I can only imagine that his aim is to use the fully-subjugated Hsura as a platform to begin invading the rest of the world."


    I listened intently as she explained the situation, and when she finished, I let out a long, shocked whistle. Without really knowing how to respond, I reached up and rubbed at the back of my neck for a moment. "... And I suppose you''ve been unable to send for help to other countries of the world because the Autarchy controls the coasts, or...?" I was offered a hollow laugh in response as Serin shook her head.


    "No, during the early days of the invasion, we did send for help from other countries. Many of our ships did not return, I assume for various reasons, but from the ones that did, we learned that the other countries of the world still do not care for Hsura, for it is a country born of criminals, savages, and heathens. They did not believe our claims. Swiftly then, the Autarchy took control of the coasts, and any ships that did approach the continent thereafter were obliterated. It would be easy to assume, from an outside perspective, that such a thing would be the work of pirates, essentially par for the course for Hsuran politics from their perspective. So, we have received no aid."


    I promptly deposited my forehead into the palm of my hand. "Right. Of course that''s the case." I let out a soft groan and began to massage my temples as the wheels in my head turned about frantically. "... All right. Fine. I don''t know how helpful I''m going to be to you; I wasn''t exactly a war hero in my last life..." At this, I look up in order to meet Serin''s gaze. "... But you''ve convinced me. I''ll help you. Realistically, if I''m going to be living here, I don''t exactly have a choice. But I''d rather spend my time doing something than doing nothing at all. So." I pushed myself to my feet and looked down to Serin with a lopsided grin upon my face, and extended my hand.


    "Here''s hoping we can work well together."


    Serin smiled brightly at this, and stood up in turn. She grasped my outstretched hand, raised it up, and pulled it closer in order to link our arms in a way that could likely best be described as, "Nearly a Bro-Hug," in an Earth-equivalent term. It was a strong gesture, and though I wasn''t expecting it, my grin grew a bit wider as it happened.


    "Certainly. Let us work well together." At that, she released my hand and stepped back to brush off her legs. "Well. With that out of the way, I suppose I should lead you to what comes next. Follow me, if you would."


    I nodded once more and began to follow her out of the small library room we had been sitting in. As we were just about to leave, however, a couple more questions suddenly hit me.


    "... Actually, there''s one other thing I''ve been wondering about," I said as we stepped into a well-lit and greatly-windowed hallway. Serin turned to me as she walked and looked down to meet my gaze; only now did I notice that the woman stood at perhaps over six and a half feet tall.


    "What would that be, Mason Courbis?"


    "Well. The first thing I remember after dying, I believe, is hearing a man call out for Kinn, except I could understand what he was saying. Why is that?" I immediately heard a short sigh escape Serin as I asked this.


    "... I had placed an enchantment upon Kinn''s body that was set to activate along with the effects of the reincarnation ritual. As soon as your soul had taken residence in Kinn''s body, it was to cast the spell upon you that would allow you to comprehend languages, as well as heal you. The man you heard speaking to you was likely Boltred Chainbreaker, one of Kinn''s companions; he essentially saved your life after Kinn perished. Unfortunately, however, Kinn had been killed by a fatal blow to the head, and presumably the residual concussive force caused you to lose consciousness shortly after you awoke in his body. Because of this, Boltred was unable to relay any relevant information to you."


    I frowned deeply at this and let out a horribly frustrated sigh. "Right. It certainly would''ve been nice to know what exactly was happening before I woke up in a strange place I didn''t recognize." I shook my head a bit at that and continued. "Why the hell did you let this ''Kinn'' die in battle, anyway? What if he lost an arm, or got decapitated?"


    Serin just raised a hand in a slow wave, and appeared as if she were slightly pained by the question. "We put together a large testing pool here in Grandhaven, along with several other villages and cities we still have access to, to see which among our warriors had the most promising martial and magical potential. Kinn, ultimately, had the highest potential in both categories, by a decent margin. He was hesitant to accept our proposal at first, but eventually agreed to sacrifice himself, obviously on the condition that he die a warrior''s death against the enemy. We didn''t have much of a choice, exactly." I just let out a sigh in response, and nodded. Acceptance, Mason.


    "... Well. It all sorta worked out in the end, so I suppose there''s no reason to complain about it now."


    Serin smiled at this and nodded down at me. "Yes! I like your spirit, Mason. I hope you''ll maintain that outlook when we approach our next hurdle."


    "Right," I said, both somewhat hesitant as well as strangely excited.


    "Show me this, ''Part Two'' you''ve been talking about, Serin. I''m ready."

 5. "Too Cliché for Our Own Good"

    CHAPTER 5


    THE FIFTH ENTRY IN THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MASON COURBIS


    "Too Clich¨¦ for Our Own Good"


    <hr>


    "This set of mithril full-plate armor was once worn by the holy warrior Mikkhail Kastrenphir, the divine champion of Aggras, Guardian of Light and Life. Inscribed upon it are various enchantments, including strength-enhancement, speed-enhancement, fire-absorbing, ice-resistance, self-repairing, regeneration, and several others."


    I was staring at a rather huge, if not fuckmassive set of mythical plate armor. The pauldrons themselves were larger than my chest; it looked as though it might be a bit big on a space marine, let alone a normal human being. I tried to keep a frown from forming upon my lips, but as that proved difficult, I raised my hand up to cover my mouth somewhat. At least in this way, I could mask my expression as seeming thoughtful. The person speaking, by the way, was named Soras. He was a gray-skinned fiendish butler; he was one of many butlers belonging to Outcast House Xirai''Kuur.


    "The set itself has a natural ambient glow to it, allowing it to work well in low light. However, if you were to strike the chest here..." Emblazoned upon the center of the armor''s chestplate was a large, garish, sun-shaped emblem. Soras paused for a moment, raised up a fist, then moved to pound it against the core of the sun. Immediately upon contact, the symbol lit up, and the core began to shine brighter than a squad car''s floodlights. Or, I suppose, at a brightness comparable to the sun itself. "... The sun will become a beacon of light, allowing you to see into the darkness, or show yourself to others."


    I stared on as this set of armor had been turned into a veritable lighthouse. It was certainly tall enough to make the cut. Perhaps my silence was a bit too telling, however, as Soras began to perspire just slightly, and tugged at the collar of his fine suit.


    "... Ahem. Moving on." He struck the armor''s chestplate once more, and the sun ceased shining. He then moved across the showroom floor towards a small stand bearing a leather case. "This, however, I am sure you will wish to see. Behold... the Blade of Starfall." Soras undid the clasps upon the case, and pulled the lid open from behind. As it was pulled back, the weapon within was revealed to be a rather large-looking longsword of interesting design, and made of a unique-looking material. It boasted a brilliant shine, and the surface of the blade changed colors if one were to look at it from different angles. It generally held a somewhat red-ish blue-ish hue, and I could feel a bit of heat emanating from the opened box despite standing at least a good fifteen feet away from it.


    "... Forged long ago across the seas in the old dwarven kingdom of Yuul''Kragh by master bladesmiths. It is said to have been forged of a material retrieved from a meteorite that fell as a blessing of Silestra, Goddess of Endless Wisdom, and Tempered Judgement through Knowledge." Soras reached over the lid of the box in order to lift the blade from its case; it clearly seemed needlessly heavy, which was perhaps the result of being forged out of an incredibly dense material that fell from outer space. "The blade has been fitted with a dark crescent-moon handguard, which boasts countless tiny glittering white gemstones in an attempt to paint an image of the night sky; this is to remind the wielder of the endless number of stars above us, which is symbolic for the limitless choices we all may face. The blade itself is rather heavy; each time it is swung, its weight causes the wielder to reflect on the training they underwent in order to master the weapon, and the implications such an act brings."


    I nodded several times as Soras went on. There seemed to be a lot more flavor text for this heavy, ugly-looking blade than there was for the huge, ugly-looking paladin¡¯s armor they had acquired.


    "However," said Soras, as he continued to drag on. "When it is swung, the Blade of Starfall is said to strike its target with all the force of a searing-hot meteor as it burns across the night sky. One could say that the blade is, essentially, still a shooting star."


    "Indeed," I said, through the fingers of my hand. I was still covering my mouth just slightly as I assessed the situation. I couldn''t stop myself from letting out a soft sigh. "Everything seems par for the course, really. Reincarnated into a fantasy world. Given a strong body with a good aptitude for magic. Offered rare, exotic gear fit for a hero. Sent off to slay the demon king."


    I lifted up my other hand and looked down at it. I concentrated for a moment, and was able to focus my intent into the shape of a flame within my palm. Energy crackled around my fingers as a magical fire leapt into existence upon the surface of my hand. Everyone around me seemed shocked and I heard quite a few audible gasps from the various servants and staff nearby. After a moment, I allowed the energy keeping up the flames to disperse, causing them to die down, and then let my hand drop to rest under my other arm once more.


    "... I can use chantless magic naturally. Probably has something to do with being from Earth, or the descendant of some great Archmage or whatever." I furrowed my brows at that and looked up to Soras, then to Serin, who was standing nearby. She had her brows raised and her mouth was slightly agape from my small performance, but she quickly regained her composure as she looked at me expectantly. I let my hand fall from my mouth, revealing my frown, and placed it upon my hip instead. "... What''s next? am I going to have a party full of various capable, yet quirky, adventurers to help me?


    Soras blinked for a moment and began to stammer. "A-ah, well... we had planned to requisition a party for you from a wide pool of candidates we put together some time ago, yes." At this, I let out another audible sigh.


    "... Isn''t it all a bit too convenient?" I tipped my head to the side and shifted my weight from one foot to the other as I surveyed the room. "I understand you all must have prepared, perhaps even for quite some time. But are you really sure that this is the best way to defeat Xoul?" I gestured over towards the "heirloom" gear they had presented me with. "An overly heavy sword that can level castles in a couple of swings, and a set of armor that turns me into some sort of unkillable human torch?"


    Only Soras and Serin could understand what I was saying, but it was rather clear I sounded somewhat displeased. I didn''t mean to be overly harsh, especially to the people who had technically saved my life, but I couldn''t help but have some reservations. Serin brought a hand up to her chin and held it thoughtfully as Soras stuttered somewhat and attempted to formulate a response.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    "W-well... yes! Outcast House Xirai''Kuur has been collecting artifacts and various magical items of this nature for generations in hopes that one day a descendant of the Great Archmage would defeat Xoul. He had given them the vial of his blood, preserved through time-dilation enchantments, and the knowledge of the ritual, saying that when a time of great need had arisen, to summon a descendant of his so that they may assist us. Outcast House Xirai''Kuur then began to gather legendary weapons and armor with which to outfit our savior, so that they would not be unequipped when the time came to confront Xoul. We... ah..."


    I nodded several times and raised a hand as Soras prepared to ramble on again. I didn''t exactly feel like digesting any more bulk exposition in one sitting.


    "Right. And I believe that these artifacts may aid us in the war against Xoul, in a way. Though... I really don''t think that having me use them is going to help."


    Soras looked nothing less than shocked to hear this. "Wh? I... I don''t understand... The armor of Aggras'' Champion should make you stronger than ten men, fast as the wind, and tougher to kill than a troll! The Blade of Starfall could easily obliterate a small squadron of Autarchy soldiers, or, as you said, take down the walls of a castle in but a few swings. Armed with these, you alone would rival a demi-god in terms of raw power! How would such things not help?"


    "Well," I say, as I begin to pace around the circular showroom floor, "there''s a few reasons, really."


    As I walk, my eyes shift to the various servants and staff within the room; the room itself was a tall circular ballroom-like space with halls that led into it both from the North and South. The highest part of the ceiling was full stained glass, and the Eastern and Western walls were lined with tall beautiful windows. All of the curtains had been drawn, making the only source of natural light the ceiling above. Standing around the area were various servants and attendants. Some of them were responsible for transporting the extremely heavy set of armor into the room, while others appeared to be present for the purpose of keeping watch at the windows and hallways. Others seemed to simply be observing, and were serving no other purpose at the time. Of what I could see, a great many of the servants within the room seemed to be the same species as Soras and Serin, a species which translates into the common tongue as "Fiend." There were various butler-esque servants standing about wearing sharp-looking suits and fine gloves, as well as a few maid-esque servants who boasted fine, but functional dresses, aprons, and, of course, gloves. A small sect of servants caught my eye, however; some servants seemed to be wearing robes, and a couple appeared to be carrying tomes. I assumed that these were either religious vestments, or the dressings of a mage. A few stood together near the Eastern windows, muttering to each other in a low tone of voice. Another, however, stood close to Serin, and seemed to be acting as her attendant. He stood slightly hunched over with his arms folded over his chest. His face betrayed no emotion, but I could tell that his eyes were following me. I simply ignored it for the time being.


    "... First of all. You are correct, Soras, in that these items would make me incredibly powerful. And even then, among other capable heroes, we would no doubt become a force to be reckoned with." I let out a sigh as I continued to casually pace around the room. "... The problem arises when Xoul simply decides to, then, reckon with us.


    "The armor would stop almost all incoming injuries while equipped, and the sword would dispatch any threat when one wields it... but one cannot constantly do such things. Using items like these will make me a huge target? not just to Xoul, but to everyone. I''ll have to sleep at some point; thieves will try to take the gear, and assassins will attempt to take my life. Perhaps my new adventurer allies could assist me, granted they don''t betray me for whatever reason.


    "Even then, however, it still begs the question." I pause at this, and turn back towards Soras with a serious expression. "... Do you truly believe that even with all of these things, I can somehow kill Xoul himself? Even with a capable party of heroes, what are the odds?"


    Soras blinked at that, and swallowed hard. He was sweating quite badly now, and he reached up to rub at the back of his neck quite anxiously. "... I... I don''t know. Truthfully speaking... I do not believe it would be possible, no. B-but, that''s-" I quickly held up a hand to stop him again.


    "I would use the gear to take down his strongholds and fortresses, yes? To acquire magical artifacts from his generals and subordinates. Or I would venture around the continent in search of old dungeons, and brave them in order to uncover relics lost to the ages." I just grimace at that and shake my head as I begin pacing around the room once more. "... I don''t believe that reality would truly pan out that way. This Xoul is the leader of an entire nation of people, who''s brought his army here from another plane of existence with the intention of conquering this entire planet. If some kind of threat arises that can shake up his operation, what would stop someone like him from personally making a visit to squash it like a bug? Is he really that vain? Does he think he''s above that kind of thing?"


    I paused again, and turned to Serin. I had walked the full perimeter of the room and found myself beside her and her robed attendant. I could feel something coming from him, but I couldn''t quite tell what. It was a familiar feeling, and one I had felt many times on Earth. I had felt it just recently, actually, at the place I had visited before I died. When I had sat down at the table to have my "fortune" read, I could sense something. It felt like some kind of magnetic tension, or perhaps it was a feeling based on the way the air itself moved, but I knew that the "crystal ball" before me was indeed a magical artifact. Back to the present, I had felt it as well just moments ago when I had neared the powerful artifacts which sat at the center of this very room. And now, as I stood perhaps ten feet away from this robed figure, I could feel that sensation emanating from somewhere within his robes. I just couldn''t tell what was causing it... though I had a feeling that I might be able to find out. I began to focus a bit of energy once more, and pooled it remotely. I allowed it to collect at the source of the sensation that came from the man''s robes, and essentially tried to create a mesh around the object in order to discern its shape. I''m not really sure if that, being from Earth, my knowledge of concepts like, "The Force," or, "Focusing one''s Chi," or, "a Three-Dimensional Mesh," helped me in my ability to control the surplus of mana that exists in this world, but as I continued to manipulate a thin field of energy around this hidden object, I found that the practice came to me a little too easily. Rather quickly, I discovered the true shape of the object.


    I did my best to keep from looking at the attendant; I didn''t want him to know that he had caught my attention. I kept looking to Serin, expectantly, as if I thought she would answer my question. In the end, with a crestfallen expression, she shook her head slowly. Soras let his head fall a bit, and stared at the floor. There was a moment of silence within the room as we all contemplated the points I had presented. Eventually, however, it was broken when Serin spoke up.


    "... Well. With all of that in mind, do you have an alternative to propose?"


    It only took one sentence for me to smile once more. As Serin finished speaking, a grin sprang to my lips and I nodded once. I squared my shoulders, took a few steps forward, and offered out my hand for Serin to take. She blinked a couple of times before tentatively accepting it.


    "Surely," I said, as I lifted Serin''s hand into the air and began to spin her, as if we were dancing the Tango. She, along with all in attendance, were shocked and surprised as I span, dipped, and deposited Serin into a position that interposed myself between her and her attendant. I offered her a single wink.


    "I believe our operation would go much more smoothly if I were armed with the simple knife your attendant seems to be hiding within his robes."


    It was at this exact moment that all hell broke loose.

 6. "All Hell Broke Loose"

    CHAPTER 6


    THE SIXTH ENTRY IN THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MASON COURBIS


    "All Hell Broke Loose"


    <hr>


    The man standing behind me suddenly lunged forward and made to stab me through the heart with the knife he had been concealing within his robes. Serin, who was standing in front of me, opened her mouth in an attempt to exclaim something, but ended up just letting out a small cry of surprise and fear as she backed away from the situation.


    All seemed lost for a moment, until I swiftly, and just barely, dodged the assassin''s attack. I could tell he wasn''t expecting it, as I was able to briefly catch a glimpse of his shocked and confused expression out of the corner of my eye. Normally, avoiding such an attack would be near-impossible, given his close proximity and the fact he was completely out of my sight. Luckily for me, however, I had a significant advantage; moments before, I had somehow managed to form a small invisible field around his weapon in an effort to detect it. I concentrated, maintained the field, and miraculously managed to retain an acute awareness of the weapon''s physical location, as if I was able to feel the dagger in the air with some sort of sixth sense. Moments before I knew the dagger would puncture my skin, I side-stepped; I felt the dagger catch on my tunic and tear a hole into it. As he began to stumble, I managed to take hold of his forearm with both hands. I gave his wrist a hard twist, wrenched the knife from his grasp, and proceeded to pull him forward using his own momentum. My right hand pulled his arm back as I slammed my left elbow into his shoulder blade, inevitably forcing him to the floor on the threat of a broken arm. He let out a winded grunt as his face impacted upon the smooth stone.


    I could tell that this wasn''t the end of it, however, as I heard a single set of hard, panicked footfalls heading away from the situation. I glanced up and saw one of the butlers sprinting towards the Eastern windows, clearly making an attempt to break through one and escape. I was much too occupied with holding one assailant, I knew handling another would be beyond my capabilities; I grit my teeth, and called out.


    "Serin, restrain him!"


    I was banking on something I picked up from my days playing tabletop games, and perhaps a little too heavily on luck. Given the circumstances, I was grossly aware that this was as far away as possible from the time to be gambling. Unfortunately, that''s just what my brain felt was the best decision at the time.


    It would seem that luck was on my side, however, as Serin snapped into action, and was able to do what I hoped she would; her expression turned serious, her eyes glowed just slightly, and she began to chant something swiftly. She held out her hands in front of her with just two fingers raised on each, and suddenly released some sort of energy directed at the man I was restraining. I felt something wash over his body, and for a moment, I saw the outlines of his muscles pulse with a bright, fiery light through his skin and clothing to an extent. As I felt his body go stiff, I knew that he''d been paralyzed; Hold Person was a success. I turned my full attention towards the man trying to escape and began to focus my energy once more. I was already feeling a bit light-headed from the small amount of magic I''d been able to cast thus far, but I knew that I had to do something. My brain began to race as a plan took form.


    Humidity. I cast a wide net, as big as the room, and held out my hand palm-up for a moment. I envisioned particles of water in the air¡ª not that I could actually feel them, but I suppose it''s the thought that counts when it comes to magic.


    Liquid. I held it for a half second, then closed my hand into a tight fist; the net condensed into one concentrated area on the floor in front of the runner, and pulled the water particles into a body of water. The mental gymnastics required to create one small puddle were astounding.


    Slapstick. None the wiser, the escaping butler promptly slipped on the wet floor, and comically fell flat onto his face; he slid a couple feet forward.


    Freeze. There was a split second when his hands and face were on the floor and covered in water. All I had to do was stop the atoms within the water from moving around. Simple, right? I was still holding my hand in a tight fist in order to help me visualize a grip over the water. Instinctively, I pulled my hand back and sharply inhaled as if attempting to physically pull the heat from the water. I could feel a bit of tingling in my hand, as if it were being lightly licked with small puffs of warm air. I wasn''t exactly sure if it had worked until I heard a horrified shout escape from my captive; the skin of his face had been frozen to the floor.


    I was breathing a bit heavily at this point. I felt slightly drunk, a bit dizzy, my vision was blurry, and I could feel my stomach starting to churn, but I managed to blurt out another command.


    "Soras! Get the staff moving! We have spies!"This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    I couldn''t really tell what Soras did in response, but I heard him start shouting, and I could tell the staff was moving. I let out a soft chuckle at that as a small half-grin spread across my face. I rolled off of the robed man I''d taken down, and sat on the floor cross-legged with my head in my hands.


    Surely I''d done my part.


    <hr>


    A good deal of time passed after that where I simply sat there, breathing. I was doing my best to meditate, and found that it seemed to be helping moderately. At some point, a servant approached in order to offer me a glass of water; I accepted with little more than a nod and a soft grunt. After sitting in the room for a bit too long, I felt a bit of moisture pooling under my nose. When I reached up to wipe it away, I found that it was blood.


    "Ah. Yes. There''s no humidity in here."


    I almost wanted to laugh, if I didn''t feel that it would upset the fragile balance within my stomach. Tentatively, I pushed myself to my feet and moved to head back towards the library I had been in earlier that day. The sun had already set by the time Serin approached me again. I pulled myself together and looked up to her with a weak grin and a raised brow.


    "... So. Interesting first day." I let out a soft chuckle. Serin sighed at that, and sat down upon a couch across from me.


    "... Yes, I suppose that''s one way to put it." She brought a single hand up to hold her forehead as if she felt a migraine coming on. Or perhaps she already had one. I just shook my head.


    "... I meant no disrespect earlier, with what I said about the artifacts you offered me. I apologize if I offended you." She dropped her hand at that in order to look me in the eye with a serious expression.


    "Honestly, Mason Courbis, that is the last thing I am concerned about right now, given the circumstances." She paused at that, sighed, then continued. "... Though I appreciate the sentiment." She frowned and shook her head as she let her gaze fall down to her lap. "... I hate to ask it, but I am not entirely sure what else there is to do. After all this, I am left with nothing but a single question."


    "What''s that?" I rested my chin upon my fist, as if I were The thinker.


    "... What now? I had a list of items to cover, but I wasn''t prepared for this... I am no strategist, either. I had planned to have you work with warriors and tacticians in order to plot out your battles against Xoul, but... Now I am not so sure." She felt silent, and I simply hummed to myself for a moment.


    "... How many people are aware?" Serin blinked once as I said that and looked up to me.


    "... Aware of what?"


    "Aware of me. Of my existence. Aside from the man who saved me, Bollard or somesuch."


    "Boltred Chainbreaker."


    "Yes, the one and only." I nodded.


    "None, specifically." Serin let out a soft sigh and let her hands fall to her lap. "Not even Boltred fully understands what it is that has transpired. He only understood that Kinn may die, and that someone else who speaks a foreign language would replace him. The people of Grandhaven are vaguely aware that Outcast House Xirai''Kuur had devised "something" to combat Xoul, but they are not entirely aware of what." She paused for a moment after saying this, then sighed heavily and grasped her head.


    "... Perhaps this is how Xoul knew to plant spies within my staff."


    "Perhaps," I said with a shrug. "Or perhaps they were here from the very beginning. Who''s to say, really." Serin just nodded weakly at that and let out a soft groan. I offered her a weak smile and a soft chuckle.


    "... I''m sure everything''s going to work out fine. It''s relatively straight-forward what needs to happen now, isn''t it?" I tipped my head to the side as I said this. Serin lifted her head in confusion and raised a brow at me.


    "... What do you mean?"


    "You already had a plan of what to do. Let''s have it; if you lay it out, we can pick the things from it that are still relevant, and the things we need to revise. Things rarely ever go all according to plan. If we want to succeed, we have to adapt to what can''t be accounted for." I raised both my eyebrows at her and offered a small shrug. "Otherwise we''ll stagnate. And eventually, accept defeat. Do you need time to recover before we go over the plan?"


    She paused for a moment at this, and searched my eyes as if she were trying to discern my motives. She squinted, let out a soft sigh, then closed her eyes and shook her head.


    "... I do not understand... What sort of person you must have been in your past life to approach your new one in this way. If it were me, I am certain that I would not be capable of dealing with this sort of pressure." Her words pulled a soft laugh out of me, and this time I shook my own head.


    "Well... It''s not the first time I''ve gotten into a fight. Even with knives. The magic was new, though, I have to admit that." I paused for a moment and chuckled. "... To be honest, at some point I kinda stopped thinking about things here as if they''re real. I''m just accepting it all so that I don''t break down and freak out. Given the circumstances... I figure there''s time to think about everything later. If I want to get to that point though, I''ve got to focus on surviving first. It just seems to be how the world works." I offered her the most sincere grin I could muster, but I''m sure that she saw the fear in my eyes. It had been there since the moment I had awoken in this world; it was mind-boggling to think that it had only been but a few hours ago. Serin stared at me for a moment before simply closing her eyes and holding her head once more.


    "... I believe you are right. I am finding it difficult, but I will try to do the same." She exhaled sharply at that and nodded her head once. When she lowered her hand once more, she looked up at me with a fierce expression.


    I could feel her determination.


    At least, I think it was determination. It is a very bizarre experience when one feels another''s'' emotions, akin to enthusiastically taking a bite out of an off-brand version of one of your favorite foods by mistake.


    However, it was with this feeling that we proceeded to go over our plans for the immediate future, and beyond: with some sort of off-brand determination.

 7. "Serins Private Cram School for Fresh Heroes"

    CHAPTER 7


    THE SEVENTH ENTRY IN THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MASON COURBIS


    "Serin''s Private Cram School for Fresh Heroes"


    <hr>


    It isn''t going to be easy.


    This is what I kept telling myself, at any rate. I didn''t want to get my hopes too high. On the first night of my new life, Serin and I spent a good few hours past sunset putting together our new plan. Many of the things she had prepared were still relevant, if not absolutely necessary. It wasn''t until a servant approached in the dead of night and brought our attention to just how fatigued we were that we finally agreed to part for the time being and resume at a later date. As I approached the door to my chamber, I wondered how well I would sleep in this foreign land, not to mention in this foreign body. As soon as my back hit the sheets, however, it became very clear that I would be sleeping more soundly than any self-respecting rock.


    The first item on our comprehensive list of necessary preparations was literacy. It was absolutely imperative that I understood the common written and verbal language of this country. Most people spend years becoming fluent in a foreign language; I spent approximately a single month''s time.


    "Theoretically, it should be much easier for you to learn Oselli than most other people. Your soul is housed within the body of Kinn, which still carries within it certain memories. These memories come in various forms, some of which would be language-based. All we would need to do is help you, essentially, re-learn Oselli. In time I believe it will begin to come back to you." Serin smiled as she finished placing various language-based books upon a desk before me. They seemed to range from elementary-level literature to what appeared to be collegic textbooks.


    "And you said that Oselli is the most commonly spoken language here on Hsura..." I hummed softly as I observed the books and moved to sit down at the desk. "Did one country have more of an impact here than others?"


    "Yes and no," replied Serin. "It is more apt to say that one certain culture, historically, had more of an impact globally than many others, which resulted in the widespread use of Oselli throughout many different countries and cultures. It originated in the country of Osellochs, which lies in the South-Western hemisphere, and currently dominates a majority of the continent of Khalikhan."


    I nodded once at this and offered an insightful hum. "... Should I be studying world-history, then? A creation myth, or several even?"


    "Perhaps," said Serin as her expression turned somewhat pensive. "... However, I am not certain that such things will directly aid you in our mission. That aside, I believe it is imperative that you become fluent in Oselli before pursuing other avenues of learning. Would you not agree?"


    This prompted an exhausted groan from me, but I nodded in agreement. "Right. I suppose we should start with the alphabet then, and work our way up."


    Oselli itself is an incredibly ancient language that is said to have been one of the first tongues man chose to speak in. It originated in a culture dominated by strength and honor, and as such began as a simple language which incorporated many strong sounds into its letters and words. As society progressed, however, Oselli progressed as well; it began to transform into something much more tactical. The war-like nation of Osellochs did not simply survive through sheer brute force, but rather chose to thrive through strategy, tactics, and coordination. As such, they required a language that was equally versatile. Oselli became a language in which accuracy and attention to detail were incredibly important; there were many words and symbols to describe different situations, conditions, or appearances of things. Through the added complexity, however, Oselli also became a language that allowed one to easily twist their words around, causing others to lose the true meaning of a message. The military used this to their advantage, and often brought rather ardent wordsmiths into their employ as encryptionists and de-coders.


    Osellochs''s influence continued to expand globally through imperialism and colonialism, which brought Oselli into a variety of other countries and cultures, whether they liked it or not. Osellochs maintained its control over a good portion of the known world for a great deal of time before sects began to secede and rebel against the mainland. Or, at least before a majority of groups succeeded in seceding. It was a long enough period of time, however, that a vast majority of these annexed territories had been speaking Oselli for generations.


    After the age of rebellion came to an end, Oselli began to receive something of a renaissance as the previously oppressed cultures began to truly embrace the language. Whereas it had previously been a tactical language meant to describe scenarios in clinical detail, Oselli was gradually modified into a more romantic language. It now allowed for a wide range of emotional expression, and was capable of capturing even the most obscure feelings. This complexity allowed for a predictable ease in which words could be molded into a great wealth of language-specific humor, poetry, and lyricism. Despite my best efforts, I have found it nearly impossible to translate a depressingly large majority of this work into English in a way that is meaningful.


    Serin stressed to me many times, however, that Kinn did not hold an overwhelmingly diverse understanding of Oselli. She also continued to explain that, over time, the sheer weight of the language became too much for many to bear, and that a great deal of the language was either abandoned or lost, perhaps akin to the way one might trim an overgrown bush. In its most modern form, Oselli has become a moderately simplified version of its extremely grandiose former self. Some archaic texts and scripts survived over the ages, however, which has allowed for certain archives to devise comprehensive lists of dead words, symbols, and sentence structures. This would theoretically enable the use and re-incorporation of such things into one''s speech or writing, however such knowledge is obviously not common. It has also been noted that certain parts of the language survived regionally, while others simply died out.


    In the end, this overwhelming wealth of history surrounding Oselli has created, in my opinion, an inarguably more confusing, convoluted, and backwards clusterfuck of a language than what English has ever dreamt of becoming. I must concede, however, that it is much more fun to speak, and I personally find it significantly more pleasant to the ears than English.


    I was surprised to find that attempting to learn the language actually started out well. The spell that allowed me to comprehend languages didn''t particularly have any effect on individual letters, however certain symbols evoked particular feelings within me. The closest Earth-equivalent I could use to describe this sensation would be how, in written Japanese, there are certain characters which represent objects or things. Oselli uses a similar concept. I quickly learned what sounds the characters made as Serin taught them to me in the way one might attempt to teach a toddler. It might have simply been my imagination, but it seemed as if Serin enjoyed this portion of my learning a little too much. I wondered if she had any children of her own; I had not seen any since I had begun my stay in her home.


    As the learning progressed, however, I very quickly hit a block. Reading and comprehending very simple words using the spell worked for some time, and I was even able to memorize a few of them. However, Serin and I eventually came to the conclusion that I would be unable to learn the language properly if I continued to rely on it. Without the ability to instantly comprehend the language, Serin was once again forced to communicate with me telepathically. It took many days for me to get used to the sensation. After about a week, something began returning to me, as if I had remembered it somewhere within a dream. Bits and pieces of the language began to reform themselves naturally in my brain, and I could tell that Serin''s hypothesis had been correct. Over the course of three more weeks, I avidly worked to "regain" my fluency in Oselli, and somehow managed to even broaden the scope of Kinn''s original understanding of the language. At least, according to Serin.


    As much as I would have loved to solely focus upon academic learning, however, we simply didn''t have that luxury. A great deal could happen in a month''s time, and time was the one thing we couldn''t afford to waste. As such, when I wasn''t spending time learning the language, I was tasked with doing a variety of things.


    The first and most important task was mana training. On Earth, I had lived with mana my whole life; I had simply been unable to utilize it for the most part due to Earth''s natural lack of mana. As a result of my upbringing on Earth, however, I obviously had a decent understanding of scientific concepts that far outclassed the average person''s knowledge in this world. I was also very familiar with many ways in which "magic" was described, explained, or depicted in various forms of popular media; this allowed me to visualize ways in which I could shape my own real magic.


    "I would assume that it is a result of these numerous factors working in tandem within your mind that allows you to evoke magic without the need for chanting," said my new instructor.


    Standing before me now was a short golden-skinned Fiend, whose name was Ixtus. He was dressed in a rather interesting outfit, to the extent that I couldn''t tell if it was simply fashionable in this world, or eccentric. He wore something between a poncho, a bolero, cloak, and a gambeson. It reached down to his wrists, but didn''t wrap around his arms like sleeves. It hugged his torso and abdomen well and was secured in the front with two sets of three buttons, which sat approximately three inches apart horizontally and reached from just below the collarbone to the navel. The thing''s shoulders then extended downwards, like how a duster jacket''s might, except they reached far enough to naturally cover down to one''s wrists. Peeking out from behind this extended measure of fabric were buttoned pockets on each side of his abdomen. From the back it could be seen that the jacket, as I''m going to call it, also had a hood. The jacket itself was mostly dark grey with golden accents and trimming, and seemed to be made of a wool-like fabric. Underneath, he wore a white, collared, long-sleeved blouse-like shirt with ruffled cuffs; the shirt was buttoned up all the way to the top. Over his legs he wore a pair of what seemed to be black leather pants (which did frame his legs nicely), which extended down into calf-length cuffed black leather boots.


    The only reason I describe his outfit in such great detail is because he wore it incessantly. Either he possessed multiple versions of the same clothing and nothing but, or he simply continued to clean the one set of clothing he had. It was unclear.


    He looked over me with his red eyes for a moment before he reached up to try to fix his short, dark auburn hair. I could tell he was somewhat agitated with this situation he''d been presented with, though I couldn''t exactly tell why. I just blinked at him and folded my arms over my chest. Eventually, I spoke up.


    "... Yes. That makes sense-"You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "However," interjected Ixtus, "you lack any and all control over how you utilize your mana. You clearly expend much more energy than is necessary to perform even the simplest of tasks." I just squinted at him as he said this, which prompted him to huff at me before he continued. "It is as if you were hard of hearing, and thus you shout, loudly and wildly, where you would otherwise intend to speak at a normal volume. In the same way that you would needlessly be wasting oxygen in order to, essentially, speak at a volume which you would consider, ''normal,'' you are needlessly expending your energy with great abandon in order to produce average to mediocre results."


    I simply frowned at him for a total of three seconds before I decided to respond. "... And how exactly do we, metaphorically, improve my hearing?"


    "Well," snapped Ixtus, who was clearly becoming somewhat judgemental at this juncture, "traditionally, mages utilize chants in order to cast spells, which are designed with such an issue in mind." I refrained from rolling my eyes, but only just barely. "Chants act as a focus through which mages can measure how much mana is necessary for a spell. Budding mages generally spend months learning to correlate their emission of mana to their emission of breath, and thus expend a reasonable amount of energy when utilizing magic." As he continued to explain the basics of magicin his own annoying way, a thought began to occur to me.


    "... When using magic, is the process, essentially, using your own mana in order to affect the mana around you? You''re trying to cause a reaction, right?"


    "Yes, precisely, that is the most basic fundamental aspect of spellcasting that generally even peasants understand."


    "So, then, if I''m expending ''too much'' energy casting a spell, where does the rest of it go? Into the air? Wouldn''t it cause a reaction somewhere else, then?"


    "No. It all goes towards the position of your intent. What you are doing, essentially, is using almost solely your own mana reserves to create the desired effect, instead of willing it to happen. Were you to use chants, as is standard, you would already be weaving instructions into your expended mana, making the process almost infinitely easier." After he said this, I raised a hand to my chin and thought for a time.


    "... To you, the use of magic is a process, right? It''s done through formulas, and calculations. Like it''s a science."


    "It is a science. True magicians are scholars."


    "... Right. But what if magic is more physical? Like exercising a muscle?"


    "Of course there is a physical element to using magic. Exercising the limits of your pool of mana is an important and necessary process for a magician who wishes to be of any value."


    "Right. But I''m just wondering if the formulas are necessary, or what can be accomplished just through training and willpower. When I used it before, it almost felt like a sixth sense, or an extra set of limbs. Wouldn''t it only be natural?" Ixtus paused at that and blinked a few times. Then, slowly, a sickening smile crept over his face, and he furrowed his brows quite sharply at me.


    "Ah. I see what has happened. Your natural talent has made you arrogant. You have been in this world not even a full week, and yet here you stand, postulating at the nature of a science you haven''t even begun to comprehend. Do you claim to understand it better than a trained practitioner of the art?"


    I had, at this point, reached up to hold the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb. I wasn''t sure about how much more of this I could take.


    "... Right. So what spell allows me to conjure and hold a flame in my hand? Can you teach me that one?"


    "Ah. Yes, an element-based spell. Certainly." Ixtus then cleared his throat, placed a hand upon his hip, and held out his other hand palm-up. He closed his eyes and then, loud and clear, began to chant. The exact words he spoke didn''t translate well into english, as I can only surmise that they had been an ancient form of Oselli, or perhaps even some other language I wasn''t aware of. I listened, however, and after he finished, he produced a small flame atop the palm of his hand. He then opened his eyes, and grinned at me as if what he had done was somehow impressive. "See if you can accomplish that."


    "Don''t I have to train for months in order to match how much mana I put out with how much breath I use to speak, or something?"


    "You are a prodigy. Surely such a task is not beyond you." He smirked as he said this. I just sighed.


    "Fine."


    I held out my hand and looked down at it. I focused my intent there, but kept from trying to expend any energy. I took a few seconds to focus and feel the mana within my body. For a moment I tried flexing it, like one might flex their arms or abs. I didn''t get a response immediately, but after several tries, I could feel something. It started deep within my core at first, but then pulsed outwards through my entire body. "Great," I thought as a grin spread across my face. I flexed once more, and directed it upwards into my throat. For a moment, it felt as if my esophagus expanded, and it began to burn slightly as if it were on fire, but only mildly. Then, I began to speak. It was slow and controlled, but beat for beat I matched the same chant as Ixtus, making sure only to allow just the slightest bit of mana out through my breath as I spoke.


    It was, perhaps, a feeling akin to flexing one''s embouchure when playing a brass wind instrument, and then proceeding to play an extremely high note while simultaneously attempting to, very discreetly, pass gas. One can imagine the difficulty required in moderating two sets of emissions from different parts of the body in a controlled manner. It is, however, entirely reasonable if one wishes to not do such a thing.


    As my chant came to a close however, I saw a spark, and I could feel the fire taking form atop my palm as well. The flame I held was, somehow, even smaller than Ixtus''s. This brought a wide smile to his face. I looked up to him at this, still maintaining the flame.


    "I feel like I could keep this up for a while."


    "Yes, yes, very good. How fortunate for you it is that Kinn had trained his pool of mana to such an extent for you. And, I suppose your control over your mana is commendable. It isn''t out of control by any means, but perhaps... a bit too stifled. With time and practice, I am certain that you will learn to regulate your applications of mana."


    I just nodded a couple times as he spoke, though I was no longer looking at him. I was focusing on the flame in my hand once more, trying to feel how I could modify it. "Just throw a little lighter fuel on there," I thought to myself. "Let the fire burn on its own, but help it along." I concentrated for a moment, and the flame began to burn brighter. It increased in size, slowly but surely, and became a decent-sized fireball in my hand. Ixtus immediately frowned.


    "Right, yes, and there you go ruining a perfect training exercise. As I said before, you are expending too much mana, and forcing the effect instead of-"


    "That''s not it, actually," I said, cutting him off. "What you said helped. It''s not a hundred percent, but I think I can measure what I''m using a little better now. If I used the same amount of mana I think it took me to do this the other day, it''d actually look like this."


    I raised my hand into the air and dumped a significantly larger amount of fuel onto the flames. Almost immediately, the flame grew exponentially in size. I began to sweat as the heat became intense, but I couldn''t stop a grin from forming on my face. Of course, I couldn''t let the flame grow too large; we were still indoors, after all. I let it stay that way for a few seconds before I lowered my hand and allowed the flames to dissipate. I then cast my gaze over to Ixtus, though my vision had now gone a bit dark after staring directly into the fire. Even though I was impaired, I could tell that he was absolutely seething, and not simply because I''d almost just melted him.


    "There," I said, somewhat proudly. "With practice, I think I can master it. But I really don''t think chants are necessary, at least in the long run." As a show of proof, I raised my other hand and summoned a small flame into it as well. I began to play around with it, as if I were flipping a coin between my fingers.


    I hadn''t known him long, but I had never seen Ixtus so royally displeased.


    "... I see. So your arrogance has transcended its traditional bounds, and can no longer be called something so mundane. What you have now is hubris." He reached up to wipe away the sweat from his brow as he bared his teeth at me. "If you truly believe my life''s work to amount to nothing, let us see you perform a spell outside of the elemental and physical realms. Let us see you perform mental-based magic."


    I blinked once as he said this, and furrowed my brow. "... What sort?"


    "See if you can perform the spell that will allow you to comprehend our language. I will not assist you in this endeavor."


    I frowned a bit and began to protest, when suddenly I felt that the effect of the language-comprehension spell had left me. For a moment I just stood there with a blank stare and a worried expression as mathematical formulas and diagrams began to swirl around my head. "How?"This question was all that came to me as the gears in my mind ground to a halt. I eventually let out a sigh and closed my eyes in frustration. Honestly speaking, I knew that such a thing was beyond me. I couldn''t even begin to understand the complexities required in actively translating the intent of spoken word. "What do I look like," I thought, bitterly."A psychic?"


    "... What part of,''In the long run,'' did you not understand, you complete ass."


    As I continued to speak, Ixtus''s brows shot up and his eyes went wide. He leaned in and put a hand to his ear, as if I weren''t speaking loud enough. He lifted his other hand, pointed to his opposite ear, then shrugged and shook his head as if indicating he couldn''t understand me. I just lifted my hand up to cover my face with my palm. After a time, Ixtus began speaking once more, and I quickly looked to see what he was saying. He was chanting. After he finished, I could feel that something had taken effect upon him. I simply grimaced, and began to mimic him. As I got to the end of the chant, I could feel an energy enveloping me, and I knew the spell had taken effect once more. That being said, however, I didn''t need magic to translate Ixtus''s huge shit-eating grin.


    "There. Now, as you can clearly see, there are some magicks beyond even you, Hero."


    I raised up my right hand, and presented my middle finger to Ixtus.


    He blinked and squinted at me.


    "I- is that... some sort of gesture in your culture? What is it, a sign of appreciation?"


    "Why don''t you translate it."


    "I- this spell only translates spoken and written word, it does not-"


    "I believe it directly translates to, ''Go fuck yourself,'' Ixtus," said another voice off to the side. I turned my gaze to my left in order to see Serin leaning against a nearby wall with her arms folded across her chest. A grin broke out across my face, and I stifled a chuckle. Ixtus turned to see Serin as well, and stammered for a moment as he looked between the two of us.


    "But- how did you-"


    "I just read his mind, Ixtus. I used telepathy." I immediately jabbed a thumb over towards Serin, indicating that she had arrived at the appropriate solution. Ixtus''s gold skin slowly began turning red as he threatened to magically transform himself into some sort of rageful horned tomato.


    "... Insolence."


    "As amused as I am at your banter, however, I cannot stress enough how important this training is. Whether you like it or not, I need for you to get along with each other. And- please, Mason, do not burn down my home." She offered a knowing smile, and I looked away as I rubbed the back of my neck somewhat awkwardly.


    "... I get it," I said as I attempted to swallow my pride. "I apologize. I''ll... try to be less confrontational."


    "Wonderful," blustered Ixtus. "Perhaps finally we can actually attempt to teach you something, then."


    None of us attempted to correct Ixtus''s behavior.

 8. "A Much-Needed Near-Death Experience"

    CHAPTER 8


    THE EIGHTH ENTRY IN THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MASON COURBIS


    "A Much-Needed Near-Death Experience"


    <hr>


    "So what you''re tellin'' me is that you have no formal arms trainin'' whatsoever, ''s that right?"


    "Not exactly with arms, no," I replied. "So yes, I suppose."


    Once again, we were back in the ballroom. A weighted mat had been rolled out onto the floor, and for a moment I had a small flashback to my days fighting in tournaments. Before me now stood, the one and only, Boltred Chainbreaker. Given that Boltred was already somewhat aware of my existence, Serin and I thought it best to simply call upon his aid as opposed to dragging anyone else into our plans. The last thing we needed were more liabilities. To his credit, Boltred was a relatively capable and decorated fighter, and had fought alongside my vessel, Kinn Stoneskin, for many years. The only thing that made him less of a viable candidate for my reincarnation, which is a horrifying concept to ponder so lightly, is that he was less magically capable than Kinn. This isn''t to say that he was incapable, though his ability and knowledge on the subject were said to be a bit more lacking.


    That being said, when I was finally able to see him at his full height, Boltred was clearly a rather imposing man. He stood at perhaps six and a half feet tall, and boasted a rugged, muscular figure that could only be achieved through a rigorous life of training and hard work. He had a strong, square jaw and short curly brown hair atop his head that he kept shaved down on the sides. There was one thing about him that I found off-putting however, though I couldn''t quite put my finger on it.


    "I also don''t have any in-formal arms training either, in case you were wondering." Boltred frowned deeply as I said this.


    "... Right. Do you have any kind of combat training?"


    "Some, but I''m not exactly... familiar with real combat. Fighting is a rare occurrence in the world I''m from, so I don''t have many... life-or-death experiences." As I continued to speak, Boltred continued to grow displeased, and I wasn''t exactly sure why.


    "Just tell me what you know."


    "I was trained in hand-to-hand martial arts. I''ve mostly sparred against people who are unarmed."


    "How good are you?"


    "I mastered all of the basics in my school, and generally held my own when sparring. I once survived an encounter when a man attacked me with a knife." As I said that, Boltred just sighed and shook his head.


    "How about this; do you think you could beat me?" He gestured broadly towards himself with both hands. This caused me to furrow my brows with mild concern.


    "... I... Think I could survive, at least. I''m not sure if I could defeat you." Boltred had already begun stretching and cracking his knuckles before I''d even finished speaking. It seemed as though I wouldn''t be able to avoid a test of my skills. I just shook my head and began to loosen up as well.


    "We''ll see." With no other word of warning, he put up his fists and sprang forwards. His speed was staggering, and almost superhuman. I didn''t have much time to think about it however, as in less than a second Boltred appeared inches away from my face. My eyes went wide in shock, and I was only barely able to avoid having my face turned concave as he threw a wild left punch aimed right for my nose. I felt a gust of air blow against me as his fist nearly ripped the skin off my cheek. Quickly, yet carefully, I adopted a fighting stance and hopped to the side in an attempt to remove myself from his reach. As I moved, however, his eyes followed me like a hawk''s. Boltred quickly pulled his fist back and sprang towards me once more as he threw a sharp elbow towards my sternum.


    Boltred''s moves were relentless, but akin to a bar brawler''s. Were he a normal person, his undisciplined and telegraphed moves would be easy to deflect and exploit. Boltred, however, was not a normal person by any stretch of the imagination. His body moved faster than what should have been naturally possible, and boasted insane reflexes that could only have been honed through years on the battlefield. Part of my mind began to wonder if he was naturally this fast, or if it was because of some sort of magic, like the strength or speed-enhancement spells that Soras had mentioned some time ago. I very quickly found that the fight began taking up essentially all of my virtual memory, however; I would have to think about it later, if I managed to survive.


    The match essentially boiled down to me narrowly dodging stupidly fast attacks from Boltred that felt powerful enough to punch a hole straight through my chest. I was able to read his moves easier as time went on, but I felt a sinking feeling in my gut as my body began to realize just how much time was passing. I had been constantly blocking and dodging for what had to have been over two minutes straight, and I began to feel a bit of strain within my muscles. My breath was growing more ragged and becoming harder to control, and I could tell that I was definitely losing this battle. Boltred, on the other hand, looked perfectly fine. He hadn''t even broken a sweat. It was as if he were a tireless force of nature that wanted nothing but to pummel me into a bloody pulp.


    "I guess you''re not too bad," Boltred said eventually, as one of his fists rocketed towards my head.


    "Oh??" This was all I managed to get out as I just barely deflected his attack.


    "Yeah," Boltred grunted. "Even Kinn would''ve taken a hit or two by now." His eyes flared as he said this, and he swiftly repositioned himself for another deadly strike.


    "Yeah, well-" A fist just barely grazed my cheekbone as it whizzed past my face at what felt like Mach 5. I took this moment, however, and swiftly grabbed his piston of an arm with both hands. I planted my feet firmly onto the ground and put every ounce of strength into one all-out maneuver as I pulled Boltred over my body and slammed him into the ground. My muscles were screaming out in agony at this point, and I''d nearly lost all control of my breathing. I immediately jumped back and tried to get as much distance between us as possible, somehow still maintaining a fighting stance. From the ground, Boltred groaned softly and rolled his head from side to side. I could hear his neck popping, even from my good distance away from him.


    "... Why''d you back off? You gotta finish off your opponent." He almost seemed disappointed. I just furrowed my brows as I tried to get my breathing back in check.


    "You... still would''ve killed me... even from the ground. I can''t fight anymore... So I''d have to escape." Boltred just snorted and pushed himself to his feet.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "... Fine. I guess you aren''t useless, at th'' very least." He paused for a moment as he rolled his shoulder and thought for a moment. He looked as though he hadn''t even felt a thing from that toss; given his superhuman strength and speed, I wouldn''t have been surprised if he hadn''t. After a moment, he looked back up to me with a serious expression. "... What were you gonna say then, before you threw me?" I paused for a moment as he said this and began to rack my brain as I tried to remember a single errant thought that had appeared in the heat of battle. It came back to me after a few seconds.


    "... You said, ''Even Kinn would''ve taken a hit or two by now.'' So I was about to say, ''You probably would have too.'' I get the feeling Kinn was a much stronger fighter than I am."


    This roused a laugh from Boltred, and for the first time I saw him smile. After a moment he shook his head and hummed softly to himself.


    "Yeah. He was." As he said this, his tone shifted once more and he let out a soft sigh. "... It''s just a bit fucked, seein'' him here now. Even though I know he ain''t here."


    This caught me off-guard, and I blinked a few times as I looked down to my body. Though, now that he''d mentioned it, it became very obvious that this body wasn''t mine after all. My hands balled into fists and I let out a bit of air through my nose.


    "... Yeah. I bet."


    "It''s even in th'' way you talk. Th'' way you move. It''s all wrong."


    I stood there in silence for a moment, unsure as to how I should respond. These were things I had been actively trying to avoid thinking about essentially since I had arrived in this world. It took some time, but I was eventually able to find my voice again.


    "... I''m sorry that he''s gone." I slowly unclenched my hands and allowed them fall to my sides as I let out a soft breath. I steeled my gaze, looked back up to Boltred, and tried to speak as sincerely as I could. "... But I''m grateful he gave me this body. Honestly, I don''t think I''d have survived this fight if he hadn''t." I then paused for a moment and felt myself let out a small chuckle. "... There were a couple of times where I seriously thought you were going to kill me." Boltred looked up to me at that, still harboring a bit of pain and perhaps anger in his eyes. He scoffed, but let a wry grin break out across his face.


    "... That''s ''cause I was tryin'' to."


    Part of me was a little shocked to hear this, but I honestly wasn''t surprised. What did surprise me, however, was when I found myself grinning as well. I even started to laugh a bit, and Boltred joined in. We both just stood there for a moment, laughing, though I''m not sure if either of us really understood why.


    "S-sorry we''re late!" Two sets of footsteps were approaching from down the hall, and both Boltred and I turned to look. Serin and one of her maids were approaching; I was fairly certain it was the maid who''d spoken. Serin had mentioned her earlier that day, and told me she was a fiend named Laixa. She was a bit on the shorter side, with bright red skin and short wavy auburn hair. Supposedly she was rather proficient in healing magic. She was supposed to be here on standby in case one of us got injured, though after the fight I''d just been in, I was almost certain she would only be healing me.


    "There were a few matters that required my attention," added Serin as she made her way towards the sparring mat. "My apologies." A bench had been placed nearby for her, and she took a seat there with a soft sigh. "Now that I am here, however, feel free to begin training, or sparring. I will ultimately leave your teaching methods up to you, Boltred; I am simply here to observe, and will only intervene if necessary." She paused at that and looked up to the two of us for a moment, then just to me. Her brows furrowed in confusion. "... Mason, you''re sweating quite badly... and why is your face bleeding?"


    Both Boltred and I remained silent at that for a moment. Wordlessly, we looked to each other, then looked back to Serin once more. I managed to speak up first.


    "... Actually, about that..."


    . . .


    "YOU DID WHAT?!" Serin''s eyes flared as she exclaimed this, not simply with rage, but with small amounts of literal flame as well. It was terrifying.


    "Hey, ease up," said Boltred. "I didn''t actually kill him. He''s not even hurt!"


    "Y-yeah, and I think I learned something," I added as I, for some reason, began trying to defend him.


    "Mason does not yet understand even BASIC STRENGTH-ENHANCEMENT, and you mean to tell me that you fought him without even ATTEMPTING TO RESTRAIN YOURSELF?"


    "Yeah, honestly I was surprised he did that well. Didn''t get hit once."


    "BECAUSE HE WOULD HAVE DIED IF HE HAD."


    "Yeah, exactly."


    Clearly furious, Serin pointed an accusatory finger at my face. A shiver went down my spine as I felt her ire focused in my direction.


    "Look at his face, Boltred. You merely grazed him once, and there is absolutely no skin left there. He is the descendant of the Archmage. I hardly think it is reasonable or sane for you to attempt to annihilate him upon your first meeting."


    At this point, Laixa had somewhat sheepishly attempted to approach me, so I peered down to her for just a moment. I briefly managed to catch a glimpse of her golden eyes through the round lenses of her spectacles before she became embarrassed and quickly turned away while covering her mouth. I placed a hand upon my hip and looked her over for a moment before I returned my attention back to Serin and Boltred, who continued to bicker for quite some time. When I realized they had no intention of stopping anytime soon, I just gave up on them and turned back to Laixa.


    "... Pardon me, but... do you happen to have any bandages? I wouldn''t want to get blood everywhere." She blinked a couple of times as I said this before she swiftly turned to face me with a wide-eyed panicked expression.


    "O-oh! I apologize, I should be administering aid- ah- no, I do not have bandages. I can stop the bleeding, though! P-pardon me..."


    Without further warning, she simply leaned in and brought her hand to my cheek. As I watched her do this, it occurred to me just how tall Kinn was. He was nearly Boltred''s height, if just a little shorter, which was yet again a foreign feeling to me. As my thoughts returned to the present, I noticed that Laixa was standing on the tips of her toes just to reach my face. I felt a small pang of guilt for making her struggle, so I knelt down before her to lessen the reach. I saw as her red cheeks seemed to flush just slightly, but I decided to ignore it. She then closed her eyes and pressed the tips of her fingers against the side of my face as she began to chant. Slowly, a soft glow began to emit from what I assumed was my wound, and I felt a sensation akin to my skin being tugged shut, as if the flesh were being closed with stitches. A few seconds passed before the glowing stopped, and Laixa opened her eyes once more. I offered her a grin and a single nod.


    "Thank you. I feel much better now."


    She offered a flustered smile back to me before fishing into a pocket of her apron for a moment and pulling out a small red handkerchief. She reached up to wipe away the blood from my face, then nodded as well.


    "O-of course. I am happy to hear it."


    I searched her eyes for just a moment more before I stood up once more and approached the still-bickering Boltred and Serin. I stood and listened to them for a good five seconds as I looked between the two, before I loudly cleared my throat. They both paused and turned to face me.


    "Time is of the essence. I''d rather learn how to wield some kind of weapon before the sun is down. If anything goes wrong, Laixa will keep me from dying. Can we agree to that?"


    Boltred just chuckled at that and folded his arms across his chest. Serin, who still looked quite heated, just huffed and moved to sit back down upon her bench. She crossed one leg over the other and turned her head to the side, looking away from Boltred.


    "Fine, though know this; Boltred, if you kill him, I so swear by the Hells that I shall burn you alive."


    Boltred then openly laughed and turned to walk across the mat. He picked up a pair of training swords and tossed one in my direction. As I caught mine and he readied his, he grinned at me once more before he responded.


    "No promises."