ã€ŠEchoes of the Worlds [Isekai Epic Progression Fantasy]ã€‹


 Chapter 1: Trial Jump

    The deafening roar of a passing train jolted Arthur awake. The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to pierce the horizon, casting a faint golden glow over the city. He pressed a hand to his temple, the pounding headache and relentless noise slicing through his consciousness like sharp blades. Damn trains. Sleep was out of the question now; he needed water. Groaning, he forced himself to sit up, his muscles protesting with every movement. The air in the room was thick with the stale stench of extinguished cigarettes and dust. He stumbled toward the bathroom, stepping over scattered clothes and empty beer bottles. As he passed the cabinet filled with dozens of trophies from his tournament victories, he noticed the metal floor felt colder than usual. Is the reactor acting up again?

    The bathroom door slid open automatically as he approached. He splashed water on his face and drank straight from the faucet. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he saw a disheveled 65-year-old man staring back at him. His beard and long gray hair hadn¡¯t seen a pair of scissors in years. Dark bags hung under his bloodshot eyes, a testament to countless sleepless nights and too much alcohol. Once, he had been one of the most renowned fighters of his time, but by 2150, martial arts had advanced to a point where they were deemed too dangerous for a world that had long forgotten war. Regular armies had been replaced by AI-driven machines, and even the police force was now entirely robotic. Governments worldwide had agreed to ban the practice of martial arts. After the ban, Arthur lost his job as a trainer, and his savings had lasted him ten years¡ªa decent run by modern standards, considering his fame and the number of students he once had. But now, his life felt meaningless. His only grandson lived overseas, and they hadn¡¯t spoken in years. He had tried to find other work, but who would hire an old man who only knew how to fight, with no experience in programming or artificial intelligence? Almost all manual labor had been handed over to humanoid robots.

    Arthur decided to cure his hangover with a beer. Opening the fridge, he found only three boxes of "Universal Lunch" and a bottle of soda. Disappointed but resigned to the fact that he¡¯d have to go outside, he grabbed the soda and sat on the bed, taking a big swig. He turned on the TV to drown out the noise of the morning trains. An advertisement immediately started playing: "Chronos Labs offers you a unique opportunity! Participate in our 100% safe program and earn 1,000,000 credits! Be one of the first to join the revolution! Your consciousness will be transferred to a parallel world! Visit Chronos Labs and register today¡ªdon¡¯t miss your chance to etch your name into human history forever! Remember, 1,000,000 credits just for participating, no obligations!"

    1,000,000 credits sounds good. Not just to make ends meet, but to secure a comfortable life and maybe even visit my grandson. Arthur put on his civilian bracelet and checked the balance on the holographic screen that popped up in front of him.

    2,000 credits.

    That would last him another couple of months in his current state. He still had five years until retirement, as increased life expectancy had pushed the retirement age to 70. A million would be more than enough. Maybe he could even move out of this dingy metal apartment with its constant train noise. With nothing better to do, Arthur decided to see what they were offering.

    After smoking a cigarette right in his apartment, he headed to the train station to go to the city center, where Chronos Labs was located.

    Arriving in the center, he was struck by the contrast to his neighborhood. The dark, metallic alleys and littered streets gave way to a clean, laboratory-like urban landscape. The buildings were painted in soft beige tones with bright orange and blue accents. Trees and plants blended harmoniously with the architecture, and spacious stone plazas added a sense of openness. The people here were dressed expensively, exuding an air of ease, as if they were oblivious to the grim reality just a few stations away. Though many resented those who lived better in the city center, Arthur didn¡¯t care. His unfortunate circumstances didn¡¯t affect his attitude toward people; he hadn¡¯t particularly liked them even at the peak of his fame.

    Crossing the plaza, he saw Chronos Labs ahead. The building wasn¡¯t as tall as the others but was much more expansive, like a stadium. It matched the city¡¯s aesthetic with its beige color, rounded shapes, and orange accents. The entrance was bustling¡ªmany had responded to the advertisement, mostly poor people who looked more like Arthur than the affluent residents of the center.

    Damn, am I really going to have to wait in line? Arthur grumbled. But there was no other way; he needed that million. Before he could approach the crowd, a drone flew overhead and scanned him.

    What the hell?

    The drone was about to fly away but hesitated mid-air, as if pondering something. After a few seconds, while Arthur stood in confusion, the drone turned its camera toward him and spoke in a mechanical voice.

    "Arthur Steelhart, are you here to sign up for the program?"

    "Uh... yeah."

    "Please follow me."

    The drone led him to the entrance, where three lines of people were being checked by robot guards. Many were turned down after the initial scan, which led to some frustrated people wasting time arguing with robots. The drone bypassed all the lines, bringing Arthur to two unoccupied robot guards. After a brief, silent pause, the guards stepped aside, clearing the way. The drone flew on, and Arthur followed, puzzled as to why he¡¯d been singled out. Was it because of his past? He hoped not. Amid the disgruntled murmurs of those waiting in line, Arthur entered Chronos Labs. The cool air from the air conditioner hit him. Inside, it was spacious, with many people in white uniforms with orange stripes bustling about, accompanied by robots styled in the same fashion.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    "This way, please." The drone waited by the elevator.

    After a ride and a corridor, they finally arrived at what seemed to be a bureaucratic hall filled with desks, each manned by a person at a computer interacting with visitors. The drone led Arthur to an empty desk, paused for a moment transmitting information, then flew away. The person at the desk looked up from the monitor, squinting as if he couldn¡¯t believe his eyes. He glanced back and forth between the screen and Arthur several times before speaking.

    "Arthur Steelhart?"

    "Yes... How many more times are they going to ask?"

    "Oh... um..." The employee hesitated. "Our preliminary analysis shows that you¡¯re an excellent fit for our... um... completely safe experimental program. Please place your hand in this scanner for a more thorough analysis." Hmm... Something¡¯s not right here.

    "What about the million credits?"

    "Ah, yes, I should first inform you about the program. My apologies." The man¡¯s voice trembled, and he spoke quickly. "Ahem... Welcome to Chronos Labs. My name is David. Our program will revolutionize the understanding of the world and the universe as we know it, and you have a unique chance to etch your name in history and earn a million credits, regardless of the success of the jump. As part of the program, your consciousness will be transferred to another world. Don¡¯t worry¡ªyour body will remain here, completely safe. Whatever happens on the other side, you¡¯ll still be alive here." David fell silent, clearly forgetting the rest of the script. "Ah, yes, in case of success, you¡¯ll be provided with high-class housing right here at Chronos Labs and full support for the duration of the... um... program. The million will be automatically transferred to you after the trial jump."

    Sounds good. Even if the jump fails, I¡¯ll still get the million and walk away. Is this really that simple?

    Arthur placed his hand in the scanner on the desk. After five seconds, the light changed from white to green.

    "Congratulations, you meet all the criteria. Now, please tap your bracelet to mine to confirm your participation." David extended his hand, his bracelet glowing white.

    Fuck it.

    Arthur tapped his bracelet. The information exchange happened instantly, and after a confirming beep and green light, it was done.

    "Please follow me." David stood up.

    He led Arthur to another large hall where three massive polymer and quartz glass capsules stood in a row, one of them already occupied. An elderly man in a lab coat with a tablet approached David and Arthur. David handed over the necessary information and tapped his bracelet to the tablet.

    "Good luck, sir." David gave a slight bow to Arthur and left.

    The scientist approached, his eyes thoughtful but surprised, his brows furrowed. He looked up from the tablet, peering over his glasses directly at Arthur.

    "Arthur Steelhart, my name is Noah. I¡¯m a lead scientist at this lab. Your parameters are impeccable for a man of your age, and the structure of your brain¡¯s subdivisions is perfect for our experiment."

    "Let¡¯s skip the small talk. Just fire up this thing and don¡¯t forget about the million."

    "Of course. Please proceed to capsule number two and lie down."

    Arthur hurried to the capsule, thinking only about the credits. He didn¡¯t expect this nonsense about a "parallel world" to actually work and figured he¡¯d be out of here with the money in an hour. He lay down, and assistants attached a helmet with wires to his head. The glass slowly lowered, sealing the capsule. External sounds disappeared; the capsule was completely airtight. Ventilation kicked in, and Noah¡¯s voice came through a speaker inside.

    "Please try to relax and clear your mind. You may feel some discomfort from the electrical signals, but it will only last a few seconds. I must also inform you that you may end up in any world, even a dangerous one. According to our calculations, you should inhabit a biological vessel. Remember, you¡¯re safe here, and if you happen to die there, you should wake up here... Am I reading this right?"¡ªThe scientist stepped away from the microphone, though Arthur could still hear him.¡ª"Right, you still need to be careful and not die out of curiosity or if you want to stop the experiment; it¡¯s highly discouraged and may lead to unforeseen side effects!"

    "Just get on with it. They¡¯re really dragging this out."

    "Very well, good luck."

    A powerful electric shock surged through his head¡ªhonesty clearly wasn¡¯t a priority at Chronos Labs. Electricity coursed through his body, but Arthur held on. He¡¯d endured so much pain in his life that this felt almost routine. The current intensified, and with it, his muscles contracted. He clenched his fists involuntarily, squeezing his eyes shut. Then, just as suddenly, the pain and paralysis vanished, leaving no trace. But they were replaced by a terrible pain in his throat, like he''d just been strangled. Arthur gasped for air, coughing like a man surfacing from the depths. He opened his eyes, clutching his throat. He was no longer in the capsule but in a spacious room¡ªapparently a library. Broken cabinets and hundreds of books littered the stone floor, as if someone had ransacked the place. The room was lit by a couple of torches, and the air was thick with the smell of old books and dust.

    No way. Arthur couldn¡¯t believe his eyes¡ªor any of his senses. Am I really in another world, or is this just another VR game? He looked at his hands. The skin was pale and smooth, the fingers slender¡ªclearly not the hands of a fighter. He touched his face; the skin was definitely that of a young man. He stood up, his body aching as if he¡¯d been beaten. The ringing in his ears and head gradually subsided, and he heard distant sounds of battle outside the room¡ªcries of pain and the clashing of steel on steel. It was clear he¡¯d woken up in the middle of a fight. Scanning the room, he saw the corpse of a guard in medieval armor.

    What the hell is going on here? He quickly checked the area for enemies, but the library was empty except for him and the dead guard. He approached the body to make sure it was dead. With each passing second, his senses sharpened, and he realized he wasn¡¯t alone. Someone was hiding under the fallen cabinets, which had conveniently collapsed to form an improvised shelter. Arthur tried to move silently toward the cabinets, calling on his old stealth techniques, but his new body betrayed him, his steps making a soft sound. Without getting too close, he bent down to see who was hiding there. His eyes met those of a frightened young woman, her hands pressed over her mouth and nose to stifle any sound. Tears streamed down her delicate face. She trembled with fear but made no attempt to flee.

    Must be my luck, Arthur sighed in frustration. I just wanted to get the credits and be on my way.

 Chapter 2: The First Fight

    "Breathe. There¡¯s no one here. You can come out. And for God''s sake, stop crying."

    From behind the door, a rough male voice boomed like thunder:

    "Search everything again! The Duke¡¯s daughter must be here! We can¡¯t leave without her! Move it, you idiots!"

    "Yes, sir!" a chorus of voices replied.

    A moment later, two men burst into the library like a whirlwind. They were clad in rough leather armor, their hands gripping bloodstained swords that reeked of death. One of them, with crimson stains splattered across his face and clothes, stumbled when he saw Arthur. His eyes widened in horror, his face turning as pale as a sheet, and he staggered back as if he¡¯d seen a ghost.

    "I¡­ I strangled him with my own hands! I swear, I killed him!" he stammered, his voice trembling.

    "Then you didn¡¯t finish the job, you fool!" barked the second man, his initial shock replaced by a vicious sneer. "Finish him now!"

    Like hungry wolves, they bristled with their swords and advanced on Arthur, clearly intent on making sure he stayed dead this time.

    Arthur froze for a moment, hesitation flickering in his mind. Memories of Earth flooded back¡ªthe strict laws, the inevitable punishment for any act of violence. A prison cell, cold and unyielding, with an AI algorithm tailoring his punishment. In his case, it had been hours of relentless rap music blasting daily during his sentence. Brrr, what a nightmare.

    Wait. But¡­ if this is another world¡­ A sudden realization struck him like lightning. Here, I can do¡­ anything? A wild, unrestrained thrill surged through his veins, chasing away the last remnants of hesitation. A wicked, anticipatory grin spread across his unfamiliar face.

    Come on then, you sorry brats. He dropped into a fighting stance, ready to meet his attackers. One of them let out a wild cry and lunged forward, swinging his sword in a downward arc.

    Arthur, however, had seen attacks like this thousands of times before. Their movements were clumsy and predictable, like children swinging sticks compared to the refined techniques of Earth¡¯s fighters. But¡­ his new body! It felt sluggish, unresponsive. He took a quick diagonal step forward, slipping out of the attack¡¯s path. The sword whistled through the air, barely grazing the sleeve of his shirt. The warrior, caught off guard by such agility, lost his balance, stumbling forward awkwardly.

    Arthur waited a fraction of a second, letting the momentum of the attack carry his opponent closer. Then, like a bolt of lightning, he struck. His palm shot out like a whip, slamming into the man¡¯s jaw. Every movement¡ªthe step, the shift of weight¡ªwas executed with near-flawless precision, limited only by his unfamiliar form. Even with his new body¡¯s weakness, the technique honed through decades of training did its job. The warrior crumpled onto a pile of books, unconscious.

    The second mercenary, barely processing what had just happened, was already advancing, thrusting his sword forward like a snake¡¯s fang. Arthur¡¯s hand shot out, brushing the flat side of the blade with a light, almost imperceptible touch. The attack was deftly redirected, the sword passing harmlessly by. Another explosive step forward, and the edge of Arthur¡¯s hand crashed into the man¡¯s throat. The strike was precise and devastating. The mercenary let out a choked gasp, dropped his sword, and collapsed to his knees, clutching at his throat. Arthur didn¡¯t hesitate. A sharp, snapping low kick to the jaw sent the second man sprawling, joining his comrade in unconsciousness.

    Well¡­ that was boring. Arthur found the whole thing laughably unimpressive. Too easy, too quick. But as the adrenaline faded, a sharp, aching pain shot through his joints, so intense it made him double over.

    What kind of crappy body did I end up with? No one else rushed into the room, and the sounds of battle outside had died down. Silence settled, broken only by his heavy breathing. He returned to the cabinets, hoping the girl had fled during the chaos. But no, she was still there, frozen in fear like a rabbit caught in a predator¡¯s gaze.

    "Hey, it¡¯s safe now. You can come out. Are you the Duke¡¯s daughter they¡¯re after? Fine, I¡¯ll help you escape, wherever this is."

    No response.

    Arthur sighed dramatically and shrugged. "Alright, suit yourself." He turned and headed for the door but slowed his steps as if reconsidering. "Though, for the record, I¡¯m not in a hurry. Just so you know, I¡¯m not planning to wait here forever." He stopped, his back to her, giving her time to make a decision. Near the door, a mirror caught his eye, and he saw his reflection¡ªa frail, skinny young man with slightly long blonde hair, pale skin, and yellow eyes. He looked like he¡¯d never done a day of physical labor in his life.

    This body could use some exercise.

    His gaze shifted to the fallen enemies. The satisfaction of victory slowly gave way to growing curiosity. What kind of world is this? Who is this girl? And why are these men after her?

    Just as he took a step toward the door, the girl scrambled out from behind the cabinets like a frightened bird. "Wait! I¡­ I¡¯ll go with you. You¡­ you can handle those¡­ mercenaries, right?" She clumsily crawled out, clinging to the edges of the shelves.

    So, they¡¯re mercenaries, Arthur thought. Just like on Earth¡ªno one wants to get their hands dirty. "Of course, I can handle them," he said casually, glancing at the unconscious men. "These two swung their swords like kids, honestly."Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The girl finally emerged from her hiding place and stood to her full height. She brushed invisible dust off her expensive but practical traveling outfit, devoid of unnecessary frills. In the dim light of the flickering torch, her chestnut curls shimmered like dark gold. She was slender and tall, at least 175 centimeters, with marble-white skin and a bright flush from recent tears and stress. Her large, wet green eyes, full of hope and fear, locked onto Arthur¡¯s, silently pleading for protection.

    "I saw¡­" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I saw them¡­ strangle you. You were lifeless¡­ right here! And then¡­ you came back. Are you¡­ possessed by an evil spirit? Or¡­ blessed by the Ether?"

    What¡¯s she babbling about? Did I inhabit a dead body? Damn, that¡¯s kind of a bummer. If I tell her I¡¯m from Earth, she¡¯ll freak out even more. I need to come up with something.

    "Ahem, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I woke up here and then saw you, and these amateurs attacked." Nice save, Arthur. And not entirely false.

    "Really¡­?" She clearly didn¡¯t buy it. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn¡¯t press further.

    Their tense conversation was interrupted by another unexpected arrival. Arthur¡¯s sharp ears caught the sound of someone running down the hallway outside, heading straight for them. Instinctively, he stepped away from the door, dropping into a fighting stance, ready for another confrontation. But to his surprise, it wasn¡¯t a mercenary who appeared in the doorway¡ªit was a guard in armor identical to the one lying dead in the library.

    "My lady!" the guard exclaimed, panting from his run. "Thank the gods, you¡¯re safe! We need to get out of here, now!" He reached out to the girl, urging her to follow.

    "Wait!" she stopped him, gathering her composure. "This¡­ librarian¡­ saved me from the mercenaries. He should come with us." She gestured toward Arthur, introducing him to the guard.

    The guard gave Arthur a quick, appraising look. "Librarian Aren?" he asked, looking at his chest. "Come on, follow me, and don¡¯t fall behind!" He waved his hand, signaling Arthur to join them.

    Aren? Arthur glanced down at his body and noticed a patch on his worn leather jacket with his name and profession: "Librarian Aren"

    "Alright¡­ fine," Arthur shrugged, accepting the new rules of the game. Lucky break. Now the guard¡¯s responsible for this crybaby.

    The Duke¡¯s daughter approached the guard. He took her hand and, without wasting a second, began leading her away at a light jog, as if she were a fragile vase he was afraid to lose in the chaos. Arthur followed closely behind. The hallway was brighter than the library, thanks to large arched windows overlooking the inner courtyard. The floor was littered with the bodies of mercenaries and guards, frozen in unnatural poses. Dark pools of blood spread across the stone tiles. But no one alive was in sight.

    They quickly made their way through the hallway and burst into the inner courtyard. The gates leading outside were just ahead.

    "Young Lady Isla, the carriage should be right outside the gates, hurry!" the guard urged, pulling the girl along.

    But before he could take another step, a shadow descended from above. Another mercenary dropped from the second floor, landing squarely on the guard¡¯s back and slamming him to the ground. Standing over him like a predator over its prey, the mercenary slowly, almost savagely, drove his sword into the guard¡¯s back. His movements were unnaturally fast and precise, as if honed to perfection beyond human limits.

    Who the hell is this guy? Arthur thought, instinctively stepping in front of Isla. He wasn¡¯t so much concerned with protecting her as he was eager to face this clearly dangerous opponent. The mercenary, tall and wiry, was dressed in black leather, his face hidden under a hood.

    "Nowhere to run," the mercenary rasped, his voice muffled by the hood. "Surrender, Lady Isla." He began advancing toward them with slow, deliberate steps, completely ignoring Arthur as if he were invisible.

    Arthur, however, wasn¡¯t about to be ignored. He dropped into a fighting stance, ready to meet the enemy. Cocky brat, he thought, his eyes locked on the approaching mercenary.

    The mercenary, as if noticing Arthur for the first time, glanced at him. A faint, unpleasant static charge ran through Arthur''s body, like touching a live wire. In the next instant, the mercenary closed the distance in a flash and swung the hilt of his sword toward Arthur''s face. Arthur hadn¡¯t expected such inhuman speed. No one should be able to move like that, no matter how much they trained. But his instincts, sharpened by years of combat, and his lightning-fast reflexes allowed him to dodge the deadly strike at the last moment. A thin scratch on his cheek was the only reminder of how close he¡¯d come to death. What the hell? What kind of speed is this? Arthur¡¯s heart pounded in his chest.

    The mercenary paused, surprised.

    "How interesting," he drawled, slowly turning his head toward Arthur. "A mere librarian¡­ dodged my strike. Without even using Ether. Truly¡­ fascinating." He sheathed his sword, shifting his full attention from the Duke¡¯s daughter to Arthur.

    "Don¡¯t try to run. I¡¯ll catch you in an instant," he said to the frightened girl.

    The mercenary cracked his neck and took a light, springy step forward, moving with the same incredible speed. He aimed a straight, snapping punch at Arthur¡¯s chest.

    Arthur, however, had already realized he was dealing with something unnatural, an opponent far beyond an ordinary human. And he was ready. Though the speed was beyond human limits, the technique and execution of the strike were surprisingly crude, like an amateur¡¯s by Earth¡¯s martial arts standards. Arthur, summoning all his willpower, intercepted the strike with a precise, practiced motion. Using techniques he¡¯d honed over decades, he redirected the force and direction of the attack. Mimicking the mercenary¡¯s movement, he deflected the strike with his front hand, then used the enemy¡¯s own momentum to flip him through the air and slam him into the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of the mercenary, and Arthur moved in to finish him with a stomp to the face. But the mercenary, gathering his strength, blocked with both arms and, with a single hand, flung Arthur away like a ragdoll. Arthur tumbled through the air but managed to land on his feet, crouching to absorb the impact.

    Both men rose to their feet, eyes locked. Despite their enmity, a flicker of mutual respect passed between them. They recognized each other as worthy opponents. But Arthur knew the difference in strength was vast. If he took even one hit, if he let himself be caught, it would be over. He¡¯d be dead.

    The mercenary smirked, cracking his neck. "You¡¯re full of surprises, librarian. Let¡¯s see how long you can keep up."

    Arthur¡¯s mind raced. This guy¡¯s inhuman. I need to end this fast; this frail body is giving up. He clenched his fists, ready for the next round.

    Isla watched from behind, her hands pressed to her mouth. "Be careful!"

    Arthur didn¡¯t respond. His focus was entirely on the mercenary. The fight was far from over, and he knew it would take everything he had to survive.

    The mercenary charged again, his movements a blur. Arthur braced himself, his heart pounding. The thrill of battle, long forgotten, slowly roused his blood-forged skills.

 Chapter 3: Back to the Lab

    A transparent, barely visible aura covered the mercenary. He unleashed a storm of deadly blows upon Arthur, each strike like a hammer against an anvil. Arthur could only desperately evade and parry, his muscles burning with the strain. The difference in speed was terrifying, yet Arthur moved with precise efficiency, each motion honed to its limit, not a single wasted gesture. He saw each strike, but no opening for a counterattack presented itself ¨C the mercenary''s monstrous difference in strength and speed gave him no chance. The blows landed heavily, but at least they were predictable, especially for a master of Arthur''s level. Arthur continued to retreat, sliding backward across the dusty ground, narrowly escaping death each time. "How the hell are you evading my attacks without Ether?!" the mercenary roared, his voice laced with incredulity.

    He grew more inflamed, his eyes bloodshot, and blinded by fury, his blows became more sweeping and predictable, losing their previous accuracy. However, Arthur¡¯s new body, the body of the librarian, was already operating at its limits, every ligament, every muscle screaming from overexertion. A few more seconds at this pace, and the pain in his joints and muscles would become paralyzing, robbing him of the ability to evade the inevitable blow. If this brute kills me, will I just wake up in Chronos Labs? This thought, cold and detached, flickered through his mind as he continued the deadly dance.

    Their tense battle was abruptly interrupted by a warrior who appeared as if from nowhere. A powerful kick crashed into the mercenary''s side, sending him flying with the force of a hurricane toward a rough stone wall. The stone cracked and crumbled from the impact. The savior was completely unarmored, clad only in simple, but well-made light clothes of dark leather, on which the emblem familiar to Arthur was clearly visible ¨C the symbol of Isla''s guards, the head of an animal somewhat resembling a bear with long, pointed ears. He exuded an aura of unwavering reliability and calm confidence; one could feel the power hidden beneath the casual exterior ¨C clearly a very strong warrior. He looked around forty years old, but short gray hair, contrasting with his dark eyebrows, betrayed a more mature age, as if time had left its marks on him.

    "Valerian!" Isla exclaimed joyfully, her voice laced with notes of relief and genuine happiness.

    "Are you alright, young lady?" Valerian stood motionless, pointing his sword, long and straight, at the mercenary, who was slowly rising, staggering. The warrior was enveloped in a light, transparent aura, a barely noticeable glow, as if the air around him was trembling with hidden energy.

    "I''m fine, Valerian, protect the librarian, he helped me," Isla''s voice trembled from the stress she had endured, but there was firm resolve in it.

    Arthur was still standing in a fighting stance, his legs shaking from fatigue, barely holding him up, his body trembling. Valerian cast a quick, assessing glance at him, scanning his condition with the experienced eye of a warrior.

    "Your display was nothing short of extraordinary, librarian, though I fear this foe is beyond the reach of one without Ether. Allow me," his voice was calm and even. They keep babbling about Ether, is this the local magic? Anyway, as long as that devil is still breathing, one can''t let their guard down, Arthur thought, not entirely trusting the sudden savior, although the aura of confidence emanating from Valerian was almost tangible.

    The mercenary, wheezing and spitting blood that stained the grass crimson, struggled to his feet, his breathing heavy and ragged. He too was surrounded by a trembling, transparent aura, but unlike Valerian''s calm glow, this aura was tense and pulsating. He snatched his sword, jagged and bloodied, and adopted a shaky fighting stance, his eyes burning with hatred and a thirst for revenge. Arthur, despite his fatigue, kept his eyes on both warriors, ready to intervene at any moment, though he understood that he would hardly be able to help in a fight between combatants who were apparently using magic.

    Suddenly, Valerian took only one step forward, and as soon as his foot touched the ground, a deafening sound rang out, and he was in an instant next to the mercenary, right in front of him. Arthur blinked, not believing his eyes ¨C he had not even managed to track his movement, as if Valerian had dissolved into thin air and reappeared, covering ten meters in one inconceivable moment. The mercenary, clearly not expecting such speed, froze in shock, his eyes widened with horror, but it was already too late. While Valerian leisurely put his sword back into its sheath, the mercenary''s body fell into two perfectly even pieces, drenching the emerald-green grass with a fountain of hot, dark blood.

    What the fuck is going on here? flashed through Arthur''s mind, his reason refusing to accept what he had seen, reality seemed to swim before his eyes. His legs finally buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. Closing his eyes, through the haze of fatigue and oncoming darkness, he still managed to hear Isla excitedly telling Valerian about what had happened, about the librarian¡¯s help, and that they should immediately take him away from here. The voices sounded farther and quieter, until they completely dissolved in the encroaching darkness.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    <hr>

    Arthur abruptly opened his eyes, as if jolted awake, and found himself lying in the familiar Chronos Labs capsule. He was back. The return echoed in his body with a dull, throbbing headache. Everything was blurry and hazy, the effect was almost identical to the sensations after traveling to the Other Side. Through the thick glass of the capsule, the silhouettes of people in white coats could be vaguely seen, they were chaotically darting around, their movements revealed panic and excitement.

    After a torturous minute of waiting, the capsule began to open with a soft hiss, releasing clouds of cool vapor. Senior Specialist Noah, unkempt, with tousled hair, and bulging eyes, rushed to Arthur, looking up at him.

    "You...you were in another world?!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking on a high note of excitement.

    "Isn''t that what I''m here for? What a stupid question, Arthur thought, irritated by the absurdity of the moment and his own headache.

    "Um...yes, of course, we just...didn''t expect that we''d find a compatible candidate so quickly...So...what was it like there?" Noah stammered, losing his words from an excess of emotion, his face became flushed.

    "Get this thing off me first," Arthur struggled to sit up from the uncomfortable bed, still feeling the weight of the helmet on his head.

    The other scientists rushed to the capsule, hastily starting to unscrew, twist, and yank wires, and finally, the helmet was removed. With each passing second, more and more personnel, attracted by the noise and commotion, crowded in front of Arthur, all looking at him with undisguised curiosity and awe.

    "Well, tell us what happened to you! In detail!" Noah was already red with impatience.

    Arthur, gathering his strength, began to tell the story, trying to reproduce all the details he remembered ¨C how he woke up in another body, the body of the librarian Aren, about the strange world, full of dangers, and, of course, about the battle that had almost cost him his life. As he spoke Arthur seemed to be listening to himself, and gradually, slowly but surely, began to realize the colossal importance of what had happened, what revolution had just taken place, standing on the threshold of the unknown.

    "Amazing! Incredible! We really did it! This is a triumph! You¡­you are the first test subject who actually managed to jump!" Noah gestured with his hands, jumping in place. "I...I have to report to Mr. Albright immediately! Right now!" With these words, he grabbed his tablet and was about to rush off.

    "So, what about the credits?" suddenly, Arthur''s voice rang out, bringing everyone back to harsh reality. He suddenly remembered why he had gotten involved in this insane enterprise in the first place, the credits he so desperately needed.

    Noah turned sharply, as if he had been doused with ice water.

    "Mr. Steelhart," Noah coughed, trying to regain a semblance of seriousness, "you...you are now fully supported by Chronos Labs, of course. A million credits...that''s, of course, a trifle, the accountants will transfer them to you in the near future, but you don''t have to worry about money anymore, Mr. Steelhart, you...you are our most valuable asset!" With these pompous words, the Senior Specialist adjusted his glasses and, having finally forgotten about credits and other trifles, rushed off to report on the miracle that had happened, leaving behind a trail of excited exclamations and bewildered looks.

    Another scientist, who had been silently observing the scene, approached Arthur. He was younger than Noah, about forty, lean, with narrow eyes and thin, tightly compressed lips, his gaze revealing cold calculation and professionalism.

    "Mr. Steelhart, my name is Ethan," he introduced himself with restraint, "I must perform a couple of routine tests to make sure that you are in good health, this is standard procedure. And after that, you will be taken to your new apartments."

    Arthur only nodded wearily in response, he had no strength left for any further conversation, the jump into another world had wrung all the juice out of him. Ethan ran a portable scanner over his body, which buzzed quietly as it slid across his skin, then spent a minute carefully reading the scan report on his tablet.

    "Except for severe emotional fatigue and mild dehydration, you are in perfect order, Mr. Steelhart. We will finish for today, we will not overload you. Please rest and recover your strength, tomorrow will be a big day," With these words, Ethan turned and waved his hand to two silent assistants in Chronos Labs uniforms, who were standing some distance away, and then, nodding goodbye, left, leaving Arthur in the care of the staff.

    The assistants, approaching Arthur, moved with a strange stiffness, their body language revealing a mixture of slight fear and reverent respect.

    "Mr. Steelhart, we will take you to your new apartments. If you wish, tomorrow we will send our people to bring everything you need from your old place of residence. In the meantime, please follow us," said one of them in a quiet, almost whisper, voice.

    They led him to another wing of Chronos Labs, quite far from the noisy testing area. They walked along an endless corridor, the walls of which were painted in a sterile beige-white color, with orange accents, with many identical doors on both sides. The assistants stopped and respectfully stepped aside near one of the doors, clearly different from the others in its size and solid appearance. Arthur, nodding to them in gratitude, went inside. He found himself in spacious, luxurious apartments, with panoramic windows offering a breathtaking view of the city. These were clearly VIP apartments, intended for particularly important persons. After the shower, which he desperately needed judging by the staff''s reaction, he wrapped himself in a soft terry robe. Then, he collapsed without strength onto a huge, cloud-like bed, sinking into silk sheets and down pillows, even though it was still the middle of the day. Fatigue came down with leaden weight, shutting off his consciousness, carrying him into the saving darkness of sleep.

 Chapter 4: Second Jump

    Arthur awoke from a deep, peaceful slumber. His eyelids felt heavy as they reluctantly parted, letting in a soft, diffused light that filled the room. He lay still for a moment, simply absorbing the sensations in his body. Every muscle, every cell, seemed to be saturated with a profound sense of tranquility and bliss. He had slept for over sixteen hours¡ªan unthinkable luxury he couldn''t allow himself in decades, thanks to the constant noise from the passing trains. Even during the rare moments of rest, tension and fatigue were his constant companions. Now, however, they were utterly gone, leaving him feeling completely refreshed.

    Slowly, he sat up, relishing the pleasant lightness in his body. His gaze drifted towards the window, revealing a panoramic view of the city sprawling below. The Center. This place truly seemed like another world. There was no chaos, no grime, only flawless aesthetics. The air carried a faint, almost sterile scent, reminiscent of a laboratory rather than a living space. Everything was impeccably clean and well-maintained, the very picture of perfection.

    Arthur closed his eyes, trying to grasp the fleeting fragments of yesterday''s events. Traveling to another world. It felt like a dream, vivid yet unbelievable. But the change of scenery, the sensation of being in a foreign, unfamiliar place, served as undeniable proof of the reality of what had occurred.

    Credits! The thought ignited in his mind like a bolt of lightning. He abruptly raised his hand, his eyes checking that the bracelet was still in place. Turning his wrist, Arthur activated the display and stared at the glowing digits of his balance: 1,001,998 credits. Two credits for the trip to the Center. A greedy grin spread across his face, twisting his features. A low, muffled chuckle escaped his chest, growing into a satisfied laugh. This amount of money opened doors to a whole new life.

    He surveyed his living quarters. Spacious and bright, they were strikingly luxurious, designed in the old style. The dark wood furniture was adorned with intricate carvings and inlays. Plush armchairs and sofas were upholstered in velvet of deep, rich hues. The textiles¡ªheavy drapes, silk bedspreads, and soft rugs underfoot¡ªspoke volumes of wealth and affluence. There was even a private kitchen! Arthur headed there with curiosity, hoping to find at least a can of cold beer in the fridge and some food. He hadn''t eaten since yesterday. But before he could take more than a few steps, a knock came at the door.

    "Come in," he said, somewhat annoyed at the interruption of his solitude.

    The door opened, and one of the assistants from yesterday appeared, polite and obliging. "Mr. Steelhart, the Director is expecting you. Please get ready and follow me."

    Well, let''s see what kind of Director has this kind of money and resources, Arthur thought, suppressing his irritation. He expected this day to be filled with endless conversations. Still, he wanted to delay that moment a little longer, to enjoy the peace.

    After finishing his morning routine and a quick breakfast, Arthur changed into the uniform provided to him the day before. It differed slightly from the staff''s attire, with a more formal cut and a darker color, clearly setting him apart. There was no beer in the fridge. Apparently, even a luxury life had its limitations.

    The assistant led him through long corridors to a spacious office with a panoramic view, no less impressive than the one from his apartment. Behind a massive polymer desk, similar to the base of the jump capsules, sat an elderly man. He looked a bit older than Arthur but held himself straight and confidently. An expensive black suit fit him perfectly, emphasizing his lean figure. His medium-length gray hair was neatly combed back, and his face was adorned with a short, carefully trimmed beard. His gaze was sharp and lively, full of wisdom and experience. Noticing the guest, the Director rose from his chair and spread his arms wide in a joyful greeting.

    "Mr. Steelhart! I am so glad to finally meet you! Please, have a seat. I''m sure you have many questions for me, just as I have for you."

    Arthur silently approached the desk and sat in the offered chair. The Director followed suit.

    "My name is Victor Albright. You can call me Victor. I believe we are almost the same age," he said with a friendly smile. "Back before martial arts were outlawed, I was a huge fan. And I have to say, I admired your defiance, even if it was considered criminal."

    It was a touchy subject for Arthur. He fixed Victor with a gaze that, in modern society, could be considered an act of violence.

    "Ahem... anyways, I have already reviewed the report, but please, tell me once more what happened to you, in detail. I want to hear it firsthand."

    Arthur appreciated the swift change of the subject. He delved into his memories once more, recounting his story. This time he spoke more thoughtfully, trying to recall and clarify as many details as possible. He described the world he had entered, the strange people with supernatural abilities, the medieval setting, the library, the attack.

    "Incredible! Individuals with extraordinary abilities? Most intriguing. And the medieval setting. You''re akin to an anime protagonist, finding yourself in a fantasy world!" Victor laughed, appreciating his own analogy. Arthur found it amusing too, but he tried to maintain a serious expression. "Tell me, how were you able to converse with the natives immediately?"Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    It hadn''t crossed Arthur''s mind until that very moment. He simply shrugged.

    "Fascinating nonetheless, Mr. Steelhart. So, our initial agreement, the test jump, has been fulfilled. One million credits have been transferred to your account, as promised. Now, the crucial question: do you wish to continue? To return to that world and become, in essence, our... explorer?"

    Arthur pondered for a moment, but the answer was obvious. Even with a million credits, there was nothing he truly desired on Earth, in a world where martial arts were forbidden, where his skills and abilities were useless. He yearned to once again tread the path of gaining strength, to fight worthy opponents, to feel the thrill of battle and adventure once more. That was only possible in another world. He leaned forward, piercing Victor with a confident, burning gaze.

    "I want to go back."

    "Excellent!" Victor nearly clapped his hands in delight. "Then let us proceed to the next phase of our endeavor." He moved his tablet closer to check the information. "Most likely, your body there is currently in a coma, without your consciousness. To avoid attracting unnecessary attention, we will connect you to a life support system and send you to that world for a few days. Your mission is to gather intelligence¡ªthe more extensive, the better. We are interested in the technologies of that world, its laws of nature, anything that seems unusual or important to you. We will monitor your brain activity and bring you back only when it indicates you are asleep. Try to avoid attracting more attention than you already have. We wouldn''t want you to become a target for assassination. Honestly, we are not sure that if you die there, you will return here safe and sound."

    Those bastards, so they deceived me then. Well, to hell with them, I''ll try not to die, then, flashed through Arthur''s mind. The danger only amplified his passion.

    "Furthermore, the new contract requires you to remain within Chronos Labs. If you must venture into the city, our staff will accompany you. You are the only one to have made the jump successfully, and we cannot risk your health. You will reside in your new quarters, with a robot assistant to fulfill your needs. All expenses are covered by Chronos Labs; money is no longer a concern. I believe that covers everything. Are you ready to sign?" Victor extended his bracelet.

    "Sounds good," Arthur replied, touching his bracelet to the Director''s. The contract was sealed.

    After the meeting with the Director, Noah, the senior scientist Arthur had met the previous day, entered the office. Together, they headed towards the capsule. As agreed, Arthur was connected to an IV with nutrients. This time the electric shock was very weak, almost imperceptible. Arthur made his second jump.

    <hr>

    Arthur awoke in a room that resembled an infirmary. White curtains separated his bed from the rest of the space. The air was filled with the scent of herbal tea and medicinal concoctions. His body felt alien, numb, his muscles like cotton and unresponsive. With difficulty, he raised his upper body and looked around. Suddenly, the curtain moved, revealing a woman in her fifties, dressed in a long, simple gown made of coarse fabric, resembling a healer''s attire. Her face showed surprise.

    "My boy, are you alright? You''ve been in a coma for a whole day!"

    Who is she calling a boy? "I''m fine, but my memory is really bad. I barely remember anything," he said, using the pre-planned story of amnesia. It would mean fewer unnecessary questions.

    It seems Victor''s assumption that my body becomes an empty shell was correct.

    "Here, drink this to regain your strength!" The healer handed him a cup of steaming herbal brew. Her gaze was piercing and stern, brooking no argument. It seemed she might even hit him if he refused.

    Arthur forced himself to drink the liquid, just to get rid of the persistent woman. But the herbal tea turned out to be surprisingly pleasant, with subtle, unfamiliar notes. He had never encountered such flavors on Earth.

    The healer moved away from the bed and shouted into the corridor, announcing that the librarian had awakened. Then she returned to Arthur and sat on a chair beside him. Holding out her palm, she said, "Don''t move, I''ll check your flows." She placed her warm hand on his chest. Arthur felt a slight tingling, as if from static electricity.

    "Hmm. Your flows are disrupted, everything is in complete chaos and disorder. I don''t know what happened to you, but you must rest for a couple of days. Don''t even think about straining yourself!"

    "Alright, will do," Arthur replied submissively, sighing inwardly. Enough with the checks already.

    Valerian entered the room, accompanied by two guards in full combat gear. The light armor fit him like a second skin, smoothly hugging his figure without restricting movement. The metal shimmered and flexed as if it were fabric, creating an unsettling impression of something unnatural, something beyond the ordinary.

    "Aren, how are you?" Valerian''s voice, filled with authority and power, seemed to make the air around him heavy and leaden.

    "I''m fine, but my memories have abandoned me," Arthur replied, trying to sound casual. Right, I''m Aren now. I''ll have to get used to that name.

    "Memories? Tell me more."

    "I don''t remember anything before the events in the library," Aren blurted out, too quickly, like a rehearsed phrase. He had already replayed this story in his head many times, preparing for interrogation.

    Valerian raised an eyebrow but, like Isla, did not insist or ask further questions.

    "You fought bravely. Though I only caught a glimpse of your battle before intervening, I must say your fighting style is beyond anything I have ever witnessed. Young Lady Isla mentioned you awoke from the dead, and combined with such extraordinary skills, one might suspect the influence of Ether."

    "Ether?" That''s interesting.

    "So you don''t even remember that. Well, let''s postpone the talk for now. The Duke wishes to thank you personally for saving his daughter. He has been waiting for you to wake up. If you can walk, follow me."

    Aren tried to get out of bed but discovered he was completely without pants. Quickly wrapping himself in the sheet, he shot a withering glare at the healer.

    "Oh, it''s not like we haven''t seen it all before," the woman waved her hand dismissively. "Here." She handed him a new set of simple clothes folded on a chair.

    Valerian and the guards behind him simultaneously covered their mouths with their fists, coughing to hide their laughter.

    Aren, his eyes flashing with annoyance, demonstratively pulled the curtain closed and began to change.

    "Let''s go," he said, emerging from behind the curtain, straightening his shoulders in his new clothes, ready to face whatever came next.

 Chapter 5: An Unexpected Honor

    Valerian led him down a long, stone corridor. Judging by the hollow echo of their footsteps and the sheer massiveness of the walls, they were indeed inside a castle. Tall, arched windows lined the corridor, offering a panoramic view of the city below. The city was a sprawling metropolis of stone buildings. Narrow streets, like winding veins, intertwined with broad avenues, creating a labyrinth of life and movement. The castle, perched high on a hill overlooking this sea of stone, seemed like an impregnable cliff, its high walls and towers casting a majestic silhouette against the brightening sky.

    "I trust you''re hungry," Valerian turned back, his steps muffled on the stone floor. "The Duke organized a feast today to celebrate his daughter''s safe return. Many nobles are here, the entire elite of the Stormborn Dominion. Everyone is eager to see the Duke''s daughter''s savior."

    Victor''s cautionary words echoed in Aren''s mind: Try to avoid attracting more attention than you already have. He sighed heavily, anticipating the agonizing attention of the crowd, the intrusive gazes, and the social interactions that always made him feel out of place. The mention of food made him aware of his own hunger; despite having recently eaten on Earth, it was an unusual sensation for his mind.

    Finally, they reached the doors to the dining hall. The moment Aren stepped across the threshold, the sheer magnificence of the room stole his breath. Bathed in the rays of daylight, the hall was truly a breathtaking sight. The high ceilings seemed to soar into the heavens, supported by massive stone columns whose gray solidity contrasted with the elegance of the stained-glass windows. The colorful glass panes filtered the light, casting a kaleidoscope of vibrant patterns on the floor, painting the stone with all the colors of the rainbow. A long, dark wooden table, polished to a mirror sheen, stretched across the entire hall like a river. High-backed chairs, upholstered in deep blue velvet, beckoned with their softness. From the walls, from the tall stone columns, hung banners with the Dominion''s coat of arms ¨C a head resembling a bear, but with long, sharp ears and blue eyes. Golden threads in the banners'' embroidery sparkled, adding to the room''s splendor. The room buzzed with activity, like a beehive. Servants scurried about, carrying trays laden with food and drinks, guards in gleaming armor stood along the walls, and nobles in bright attire chatted, preparing for the feast.

    Aren immediately noticed the Duke. He had already risen from the table to greet his guest. Dressed like a true aristocrat, in colorful garments of expensive fabrics, with simple yet elegant jewelry, the Duke exuded an aura of power. He was a mountain of muscle and flesh ¨C nearly two meters tall, with broad shoulders and muscles that seemed to have been carved by a skilled sculptor. Even his rich clothing couldn''t hide this raw power. Thick, slightly long dark hair framed his face, and a neatly trimmed beard emphasized his strong chin. But what stood out most were his piercing dark blue eyes, gazing with commanding attention.

    "Aren, you''re finally here!" exclaimed the Duke, spreading his arms wide in greeting. "I was afraid you wouldn''t wake up for the feast! Come closer!" His loud voice boomed across the hall like a clap of thunder. Every eye, as if on command, turned to Aren. Dozens of pairs of eyes stared at him, burning through him. Aren''s head was already starting to ache from all this attention.

    Valerian gave Aren a slight nod, indicating that he should approach the Duke himself. Aren, trying to maintain a composed appearance, slowly walked forward. The guests parted before him, as if before a messiah, clearing a path to the ducal family. Isla gave him a warm, encouraging smile, as if to say that everything would be alright, clearly noticing how uncomfortable Aren felt under the scrutinizing gazes. Although he was older than most of those present, socializing was never his forte; he preferred to speak with actions, or with his fists.

    "My name is Darius Stormborn, and I am the Duke of this Dominion," Darius introduced himself when Aren reached the table. "Allow me to introduce my family. My wife, Lady Oriana." He gestured towards a woman with a proud posture, whose sharp gaze seemed capable of piercing through anything. "My daughters: Kyra, the eldest," he then indicated the tall, dark-haired girl who clearly took after her father. "and Isla, the youngest," the Duke nodded towards a girl who offered Aren a polite smile, her delicate features and curly chestnut hair a clear inheritance from her mother. "And my son, Leo." Next to the Duke sat a young man, a copy of his father with short hair and no beard, but already showing signs of a commanding presence. "I hope you all get along."This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    "It''s a pleasure," Aren replied, trying to speak casually. He didn''t know the local etiquette, but decided not to bow. After all, these aristocrats were young enough to be his children.

    "First and foremost, I want to thank you for saving my daughter," Darius continued, his voice becoming lower and more serious. "If something had happened to her..." The Duke clenched his huge fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The air around him seemed to thicken, becoming heavy and tense. Aren''s body wanted to retreat, but his will did not falter, and a gasp swept through the hall. Lady Oriana, noticing the change in her husband''s mood, gently touched his hand. The ominous aura, as if by the wave of a magic wand, immediately dissipated. "Oh, forgive me, Aren, I''ve completely lost my manners," the Duke smiled apologetically. "Now then," Darius leaned closer to Aren and continued so that only he could hear, "I sincerely thank you, not as a Duke, but as a father." The Duke straightened up and continued in his usual tone. "We have sent a letter to your parents, informing them of your heroic deed and your whereabouts. So don''t worry, they should arrive within a week."

    "To my parents?" Aren asked, bewildered. Okay, this complicates things. Parents would immediately realize I''m not their son.

    The Duke raised his eyebrows in surprise, noticing the librarian''s confusion. But Valerian tactfully approached him and whispered in Darius''s ear about Aren''s amnesia.

    "Ah, I see, what a misfortune..." the Duke said sympathetically, shaking his head. "Don''t worry, Aren, sit with us at the table, you are our special guest. I have a toast."

    Aren, feeling a bit confused, approached the chair next to Leo. He tried to pull out the massive chair, but it was so heavy that it only moved a couple of centimeters. What the hell? Why is this chair so heavy? The guests'' eyes were glued to Aren, which triggered a minor panic. Not wanting to embarrass himself on his second day in this world, he grabbed the back of the chair with both hands, shifted his weight to his feet, and finally moved it. He sat down and, with a similar maneuver, pulled it closer to the table. Am I really that weak? I was able to beat up these mercenaries.

    Leo turned to Aren, leaning slightly towards him.

    "In Stormborn castle, we make everything for men heavier. Even mundane tasks are a form of training here."

    "I see, that''s an interesting approach." I respect that, but a warning would have been nice to avoid embarrassing myself in front of the local elite.

    "By the way, thanks for saving my sister. She''s a real pain sometimes..." Leo interrupted himself, catching his slip. He cleared his throat and adopted a more stoic demeanor. "Thanks again. Let''s listen to my father''s toast, he has a surprise."

    Aaren felt a bit awkward; in the library, his intention wasn''t so much to help anyone, but to finally give someone a good beating after ten long years. Saving Isla was just a convenient bonus.

    Darius, without sitting down, took his glass filled with sparkling wine again and announced in a voice like a roll of thunder, "I have an announcement!"

    All the guests who hadn''t yet taken their seats at the table hurried to sit down, grabbing their glasses. A tense silence fell over the hall, all eyes fixed on the Duke.

    "Today, we have gathered here to celebrate the safe return of my daughter, Isla, from a long and dangerous journey," Darius began, his voice solemn. "She faced a terrible fate, vile mercenaries made a heinous attempt on her life. But today we celebrate life, not mourn losses, and it''s all thanks to this brave man," the Duke turned towards Aren and pointed at him. "This young man, a simple librarian, showed such bravery and courage that many renowned warriors would envy. He helped my daughter leave the library unharmed, risking his own life. According to the ancient law of the Stormborn Dominion, any commoner who saves the life of a member of the ducal family is granted a noble title! Therefore, I, Darius Stormborn, Duke of the Dominion, officially declare that you, Aren Stilllbrook, are henceforth a nobleman of our Dominion and a part of the Stormborn family!" Darius raised his glass high in the air, and the entire hall erupted in cheers, welcoming the new nobleman. Musicians, somewhere on the balcony behind, struck up a lively march. People began to eat and feast, the hall filled with life, laughter, and merriment. However, Aren noticed that some of the nobles sitting at the table were clearly displeased with this news, their faces expressing discontent and even contempt. Aren sat there, as if struck by lightning, his face frozen in a complete absence of emotion.

    Fuck...

 Chapter 6: Noblemans Burden

    The plan to avoid attracting attention failed before it even started. But a part of Aren felt a sense of relief. He was going to walk the path of gaining strength, and that was hard to do without attracting attention. He needed to switch his focus to gathering information. Aren didn''t feel a strong sense of duty regarding his contract with Chronos Labs, but completely ruining their research wasn''t in his code of honor either. Besides, he was curious about how Valerian and that mercenary were so strong. If this local magic allowed one to achieve such strength and speed, then that''s what he would focus on first. Aren was lost in thought during the meal. The crowd grew louder with each passing minute. The booze was clearly doing its job. Only Lady Oriana and her children ate quietly, while Darius laughed loudly and talked about his adventures. Leo, who sat nearby, often glanced at Aren. He clearly wanted to say something but didn''t know how to start a conversation tactfully. Judging by his appearance, he was about Aren''s age, around 20, although much larger, taking after his father. Aren decided to ignore him. If he speaks, then he''ll pay attention.

    The tipsy guests had already eaten and started to settle around the hall. Some went closer to the musicians, some started dancing, and others moved to the sofas to smoke cigars. I wonder what they smoke in this world? A group of young girls in wide dresses, like those from 19th-century Earth, gossiped among themselves, glancing at Aren. He didn''t know it himself, and he wouldn''t have thought about it, but although he was frail, he wasn''t lacking in the looks department. It was normal that a young man, a commoner, who saved the Duke''s daughter and was now a nobleman, was the center of attention. A few nobles approached him, two tipsy older men around 45. Despite their intoxication, their posture, appearance, and body language were clearly honed to perfection. Their eyes were full of curiosity without a hint of malice.

    "Sir Aren," one of them began, his tone polite but a touch formal. "Pray, forgive our intrusion upon your meal. I am Theodore, and this is my brother, Severius." Unlike Theodore, his brother was already swaying, although he kept himself in check.

    Aren remained silent. What do these guys want?

    "We have heard tell of your remarkable skills in the martial arts. We were most interested in witnessing a demonstration, if you would be so kind." Their eyes shone with anticipation.

    "I appreciate the interest," Aren began. "But I''m not sure this is the best place for a combat demonstration." He decided to refuse softly, but deep down, he wanted to show off.

    "Nonsense, Aren, do show us what you can do. I am quite intrigued myself!" Duke Darius was already quite drunk.

    All the guests gradually began to gather around the place where Aren was sitting. Whispers and gossip ran through the crowd. Nostalgia flooded Aren, reminding him of his years teaching martial arts, how people looked at him like a sorcerer when he showed how to manipulate an opponent''s body. These feelings outweighed his discomfort from the crowd of onlookers who were now watching him. It was one thing to chat with them, but another to show what he could do.

    There''s no point in avoiding attracting attention anymore. Well, if you want it so much, I''ll show you what I showed the newbies on Earth.

    He got up from the table and extended his hand to Theodore, as if expecting a handshake. The crowd fell silent, expecting surprises. Theodore hesitated a bit; he was just an ordinary merchant, not a warrior. But the alcohol gave him just enough courage, and he shook Aren''s hand. Advanced martial arts on Earth combined explosive power, efficient short movements, and manipulation of the opponent''s body. A skilled master only needed to touch an opponent to know their position, balance, and intentions. As soon as their hands clasped in a handshake, Aren immediately felt a gap in his center of gravity and position. He slightly turned Theodore''s hand to lock his joints in a position where he couldn''t turn them and pressed slightly forward and down, shifting his center of gravity. This seemingly simple manipulation was incredibly difficult to perform. The result was that Theodore fell on his butt. The crowd gasped. They only saw a handshake, not the micro-movements of the manipulation. A moment of silence followed. This could be perceived as a humiliation of a nobleman. Although Aren was now a nobleman himself, a conflict could arise. Theodore, sitting on his behind, was stunned but apparently understood what Aren had done, as he felt his movements on himself and burst into delighted laughter. The crowd immediately relaxed, also laughing and clapping. Duke Darius got up from the table and laughed too. "Most impressive, Aren! You shall participate in the upcoming tournament. I''ve no doubt you''ll find it quite to your liking!"You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    A tournament? Now that''s interesting.

    Theodore regained his composure and stood up.

    "That was truly splendid. Our Dominion is fortunate indeed to have such a nobleman. Sir, from whence did you acquire such remarkable skills?"

    "Um... I''m not really sure myself."

    "It must be the Ether itself that has blessed you! I implore you, Sir Aren, would you do us the honor of joining us for a cigar?" Theodore gestured to the area of the hall where people were sitting near the exit to the balcony, smoking cigars.

    More small talk, no thanks. Aren hesitated, not knowing how to answer, because here he was in the society of another world, with possibly different rules of etiquette. On Earth, he would have just waved his hand and gone about his business, but here he wasn''t the best fighter in the world, but just a guy without magic. A flicker of curiosity about the local tobacco did cross his mind, but it was immediately squashed by the overwhelming desire to avoid more talking.

    "Sir Aren," a clear but slightly awkward voice called out. Isla was making her way through the crowd. "Might I have a moment of your time?"

    Isla cast an apologetic glance at Theodore and Severius.

    You''re my savior. "Please excuse me, gentlemen."

    "Ah, a pity. However, I trust we shall meet again. Until then, Sir Aren." Theodore, with his brother, went to join the smokers.

    Isla led Aren aside, away from the crowd. She straightened her back, demonstrating the behavior of an aristocrat, albeit a little clumsily. "While I have the chance, I wanted to thank you most sincerely for saving me. I didn''t expect my father to grant you the title of an aristocrat. In our times, it is perhaps more a burden than a reward.  Please be careful; you may be targeted by the same people who wanted me dead." Her eyes showed genuine concern, but also determination. The assassination attempt had apparently only fueled her anger and resolve.

    "It was nothing, really." Aren scratched the back of his head, still blaming himself for the fact that saving her wasn''t his primary motivation, as befits a true hero.

    Their conversation was interrupted by Leo.

    "I hope I''m not intruding unduly. Aren, my father requests a word with you." Leo nodded toward his father, who was standing nearby, leaning on a table and waving a glass. Darius waved his hand at Aren, beckoning him to approach.

    When Aren approached, the Duke put his arm around his shoulders, nearly spilling his wine. "Aren, my dear boy! You are a marvel! That... ''technique'' of yours... all pure skill, without recourse to Ether!"

    I''m getting tired of local brats calling me boy. "I''m glad you enjoyed it," Aren replied, trying not to wince at the smell of alcohol.

    "Enjoyed it? It was simply magnificent, my boy!" Darius pulled back to look at Aren. "As I have said, you are to take part in the tournament!"

    "What''s this tournament about?"

    "It is an annual tournament of unarmed combat, with no use of Ether permitted. Only the natural strength and skills of the participants are tested."

    It sounds like it was organized just for me. "Anyone can join?"

    Darius laughed, pleased with his idea. "Indeed, from commoner to king. It is an excellent opportunity to display your abilities and to gain the recognition of those who might deem your title... ahem... perhaps not entirely legitimate."

    Ah, so you, you cunning fox, want to show the local nobility that your decision will benefit the Dominion. Smart move, can''t argue with that.

    "And what does the winner get, besides recognition?" Here, Aren''s not-so-pleasant side showed.

    "Is the acclaim of the whole Dominion not sufficient?" Darius chuckled with a hint of sarcasm. "Of course, the champion of each tournament is granted their choice of three prizes, but the selection is provided by our elders. No one knows in advance what they might be, not even I."

    Sounds like gambling... right up my alley. When has that ever stopped me? A flash of a past poker game¡ªand a crushing loss to a particularly fortunate Asian gentleman¡ªsurfaced, surprisingly warm in its recollection.

    "Alright," Aren said. "I''m in. But I have a few questions about the tournament."

    "Father, I wish to enter as well. This time, I am prepared." Leo stepped forward and stood beside Aren.

    "Hmm... Well, my son, you have chosen an opportune moment. You shall train alongside Aren in preparation for the tournament. I am certain that the exchange of your respective knowledge and techniques shall make you both formidable! It is decided! Let us drink to this!" Darius handed a glass to Aren and Leo.

    They all drank. Aren was already excited. He hadn''t participated in tournaments in over twenty years. On Earth, no one dared to fight him after a series of his crushing victories.

    The feast was gradually coming to an end. Everyone was quite drunk and tired.

    Valerian approached Aren with a serious expression. "The feast is drawing to its close. I would have words with you in private. Furthermore, concerning your amnesia, I shall endeavor to answer any questions you may have."

    Finally, I can get out of here.

    Valerian gave the Duke a brief nod and led Aren from the hall. The guests didn''t even notice their departure because they were all quite drunk. The room they entered resembled a military strategy room, with a map on the table in the middle and swords and armor on the walls.

    "You are now a nobleman. I must address you accordingly," Valerian began. "Sir Aren, do you have any questions you wish to put to me?"

    No shit I have questions.

 Chapter 7: Atheria

    Aren scanned the room, a sense of unease settling over him. He felt like an intruder in a museum, surrounded by relics of a bygone era. His gaze drifted to a large table dominated by a detailed map. Small, colored figurines were strategically placed across its surface, undoubtedly representing troop deployments or Darius''s intricate battle plans. He observed that the map depicted a single, large continent encircled by a vast expanse of water.

    "What''s this map?" Aren inquired, striving for a tone of casual curiosity. He didn''t want to appear overly interested or, worse, ignorant.

    "This is Atheria, our kingdom," Valerian responded, his voice measured and formal. "As you can see, it''s divided into Dominions, each governed by a Duke, such as Lord Darius. Above them all stands the King, who rules Atheria from the capital city of Veritas, a city independent of any Dominion."

    A feudal system, just like in history books. Victor would find this fascinating. He''d probably start drawing parallels to medieval Europe. Aren suppressed the urge to pepper Valerian with questions about the figurines. They likely represented sensitive military information, though he doubted Valerian would risk bringing him here if this held any secrets.

    "When the Duke declared that I was now part of his family, what exactly did he mean by that?" Aren asked, carefully choosing his words.

    Valerian''s expression shifted, becoming more serious. A subtle tension entered the room. "Within the Stormborn Dominion, numerous nobles oversee their own territories, each with established names and family lineages. Since Lord Darius has bestowed noble status upon you by his own authority, you are now a noble under his direct patronage. Your actions and your standing will inevitably reflect upon him, and by extension, the entire Stormborn Dominion. Therefore," he emphasized, "you must exercise extreme caution and act with impeccable wisdom, lest you bring dishonor to our Duke and, consequently, to all of Stormborn Dominion." The atmosphere in the room seemed to thicken, the air growing heavy with unspoken expectations. Valerian''s message was clear: Aren''s actions had consequences, and failure would not be tolerated.

    He''s dead serious. If it weren''t for the whole Ether thing, I''d tell him where to stick his threats. Speaking of Ether...

    "A victory in the upcoming tournament would undoubtedly benefit the Duke''s reputation, wouldn''t it? What steps should I take to adequately prepare myself?"

    Valerian''s posture relaxed slightly, easing the palpable tension. He seemed satisfied by Aren''s response. "Lord Darius has granted permission for his own son, Leo, to participate alongside you in the tournament, which introduces a layer of complexity to the situation. Your victory would serve to highlight the Duke''s astute judgment in recognizing and elevating a promising fighter. Leo''s victory, on the other hand, would bring glory and further renown to the Stormborn name. However, should the two of you be pitted against each other in the arena, the outcome for Duke''s reputation becomes far more difficult to predict and manage. Leo has been diligently tempering his body with Ether since early childhood. This rigorous training has undoubtedly enhanced his inherent strength, even when he isn''t actively channeling Ether. You, however, possess remarkable skill and natural talent, but your physical body remains weak in comparison. You will undoubtedly come to understand the full extent of what I mean during your upcoming training sessions."

    Indeed. If I were to fight the Duke''s son and defeat him, it could be interpreted as a sign of weakness within Stormborn family. If I lose, they might question the Duke''s decision to grant me a title, or even suspect that I deliberately threw the fight under pressure from the Duke himself. A lose-lose situation. Why did he even allow his son to participate alongside me in the first place?

    "I understand. The situation is indeed delicate, but I assure you, I have no intention of yielding to anyone," Aren declared, meeting Valerian''s gaze directly, his eyes conveying unwavering resolve, despite the inherent risks of such a bold statement.

    Valerian responded with a subtle shift in his demeanor, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Sir Aren, I am well aware that you are deliberately concealing certain aspects of your character. However, I perceive no inherent malice or ill intent within you. Here in Stormborn, we place great emphasis on judging individuals based on their actions, and thus far, you have consistently proven yourself to be a worthy and honorable young man. Therefore, I will refrain from demanding any explanations regarding your past, and Lord Darius has agreed to do the same. However, as the appointed General of the Stormborn army, I bear the weighty responsibility of safeguarding Lord Darius and his family from all potential threats. I am obligated to thoroughly assess all potential dangers. Therefore, I must be certain your motives are entirely pure, untainted by any ulterior design." Valerian''s tone remained carefully neutral, conveying no threat, as if he wished to ensure an honest, unpressured answer. "Tell me, Sir Aren, what is your ultimate goal at this present moment?"This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Aren fully grasped the implications of Valerian''s words. A mysterious individual with amnesia and extraordinary combat skills could easily be suspected of harboring hidden agendas. They could easily see me as a spy, a pawn of some rival Dominion, sent to worm my way into Stormborn Family. Maybe they think I rescued Isla just to gain the Duke''s favor and get close to him.

    Aren knew he couldn''t reveal his true origins. That would be far too outlandish, even in a world where magic was commonplace. However, he resolved to answer Valerian''s question with complete honesty, as far as he could. "My primary goal is to master Ether and find the path to true strength."

    "And why do you seek such power?" Valerian pressed, his gaze unwavering.

    "Can one truly claim to be virtuous without possessing the strength to defend that virtue?" The answer was so obvious to Aren that he didn''t even think about it.

    "Hah!" Valerian chuckled, a genuine smile finally breaking across his face. "It would appear that my initial suspicions were indeed unfounded. I shall be most interested in observing your progress along the path to strength."

    "Speaking of which," Aren interjected, seizing the opportunity, "can you elaborate on what Ether is?"

    "Very well, but I must caution you that, while I am highly proficient in its practical application, my detailed theoretical knowledge is somewhat limited. Our resident researcher, Veridian Jaxx''im, would be far better equipped to provide you with a comprehensive understanding of the subject. However, in essence, Ether is the fundamental building block of everything in Atheria. It is a form of energy that permeates all living and non-living things, functioning as an invisible lifeblood that sustains our world. It can be harnessed to fortify the physical body, enhancing strength, speed, and agility. Some skilled individuals can even manipulate the forces of nature through Ether. Others focus on using Ether to influence and control the minds of their opponents. The potential applications are virtually limitless. However, it is crucial to understand that the more power one wields, the greater the inherent risk. Ether seems to possess a form of sentience, and the reckless or excessive use of its power can lead to catastrophic consequences. The most infamous example occurred some three hundred years ago, when two Ascendants engaged in a cataclysmic battle, unleashing the full extent of their power. Their reckless use of vast amounts of Ether triggered a devastating five-year winter in the three southern Dominions, which served as the primary source of food for the entire kingdom. A horrific famine ensued, claiming the lives of millions."

    That sounds ridiculous. What power should have been used to cause such a catastrophe?

    "What exactly are Ascendants?"

    "Ascendants are individuals who have transcended the known limits of Ether manipulation and have achieved a level of understanding that is far beyond the comprehension of ordinary practitioners. They are widely regarded as the most dangerous and powerful beings in all of Atheria. We typically measure Ether proficiency on a scale of one to ten, but Ascendants exist far beyond the 10th tier, operating on an entirely different plane of existence."

    "What level are you, and what level was that mercenary I fought back then?"

    "It is difficult to provide a precise assessment without the aid of the specialized diagnostic tests employed by the Veridians, but if I were to offer a rough estimate, I would place that mercenary somewhere between the second and third tier. As for myself, I currently operate at the eighth tier, which is a testament to my skill and experience, and a significant factor in my appointment as General."

    He''s only at the eighth tier? He cut down that mercenary faster than I could even blink. If that''s eighth tier, I can''t even imagine what an Ascendant is capable of.

    This revelation ignited a fresh surge of motivation within Aren, an almost uncontrollable desire for power surging through him. If the eighth tier is capable of such incredible feats, imagine what I could achieve if I truly dedicated myself to mastering Ether. A predatory grin stretched across his face, the thought of such strength intoxicating.

    "Then I have one final question for you," Aren stated, his voice firm. "What is expected of me now that I have been granted the title of nobility? Was it all simply a reward for saving Isla''s life?"

    "I must confess that I, too, was somewhat surprised by Lord Darius''s decision to take such a drastic step," Valerian replied. "It would be best to discuss his motivations with him directly. However, I am pleased with the tenor of our conversation. I believe that our values are closely aligned, and I am optimistic that you will prove to be a positive influence here in Stormborn Dominion. I believe we have concluded our business for the time being. I have received instructions to escort you to Lord Darius, who wishes to discuss the upcoming tournament and your future within the Dominion."

    "Very well then, lead the way," I hope the Duke has managed to sober up.

 Chapter 8: A Dukes Designs

    Valerian led Aren through the castle''s dimly lit corridors after their discussion in the strategy room. The stone walls seemed to whisper echoes of centuries past, and flickering torches in wrought-iron sconces cast dancing shadows that played across their faces. Aren and Valerian''s footsteps echoed in the silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the flames.

    Finally, they stopped before the massive doors of Duke Darius''s study. Valerian held up a hand, stopping Aren from proceeding.

    "Allow me to announce your arrival, sir," Valerian said in his usual impassive tone.

    Aren nodded. Valerian rapped on the door and, after a moment, entered. Aren waited in the corridor, examining the intricately crafted armor displayed along the walls. Each suit told a silent story of battles fought and victories won. Minutes stretched, feeling like hours. Finally, the study door opened, and Valerian emerged, his face as unreadable as ever.

    "The Duke will see you now, Sir Aren," Valerian announced. Without another word, he turned and strode back down the corridor, leaving Aren alone before the imposing door.

    Aren stepped into Duke Darius''s study, a spacious room that breathed history. Tapestries depicting battle scenes, darkened with age, adorned the walls. The air held a rich aroma of old leather, beeswax, and a subtle hint of expensive wine that seemed to permeate every crevice. Shelves groaned under the weight of scrolls tied with leather cords and dusty tomes in heavy bindings. The desk, littered with maps and charts, was also covered in trophies ¨C weapons of strange design, gleaming gemstones, some of which pulsed with a faint, inner light, as if imbued with some unknown power.

    Duke Darius sat behind a massive oak desk, seemingly carved from a single, ancient tree trunk. His broad face, flushed with drink, radiated bonhomie. He appeared more sober than at the recent feast, but a spark of merriment still danced in his eyes.

    "Aren, welcome to my humble abode," Darius said, gesturing to a chair upholstered in faded velvet opposite the desk. "I trust Valerian hasn''t bored you to tears? He does have a talent for the dreary."

    Aren settled into the chair, feeling slightly awkward under the Duke''s intense gaze. "Not at all. General Valerian was simply performing his duty. He takes the Dominion''s security seriously."

    "Indeed, indeed. Valerian is a loyal friend and a dedicated warrior. But I wish to discuss something else with you ¨C your future in Stormborn Dominion, and the upcoming tournament," Darius leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. His gaze sharpened, becoming assessing. "You''ve certainly caused a stir, Aren. All the nobility can talk about is you and your¡­ remarkable skills. This undoubtedly benefits Stormborn Dominion, and, dare I say, me personally."

    "I''m glad I could be of service to the Dominion," Aren replied, trying to keep the skepticism from his voice. What''s he really after?

    "Valerian told me about your conversation. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s more surprising, your fighting skills or the fact that you managed to impress Valerian." Darius chuckled, still lightheaded from the alcohol. "Well, I''m glad you''re interested in the tournament. Your participation, along with my son Leo''s debut, will surely be the main topic of gossip, not only in our Dominion but also among our neighbors."

    Aren raised an eyebrow, waiting for the catch. "With all due respect, I don''t doubt your decisions, but why have you decided to have Leo participate in the tournament alongside me? It could create unnecessary rivalry and tension between us."Stolen novel; please report.

    Darius smirked, as if he''d anticipated the question. "Leo needs to temper his spirit and hone his skills, Aren. He needs a worthy opponent to unlock his full potential. And I sincerely believe that you can be not only a formidable rival in the arena but also a true friend outside of it. My son relies too much on the power of Aether, forgetting about tactics and strategy. He should learn from you how to fight using his mind and cunning."

    Aren nodded, considering the Duke''s words. So, he wants me to teach Leo how to fight. That makes sense. But what if we end up facing each other in the tournament, and I win? How will that be received in the Dominion?

    "So, I would like to ask you directly¡­" Darius leaned forward on the desk. "During your training sessions with Leo, teach him what you know, and in return, we will teach you how to wield Aether. But I warn you, not everyone can master it. It will depend on you."

    The terms are quite favorable. He''s a wise ruler, taking advantage of the situation and offering something in return.

    "Agreed," Aren said.

    "Excellent! I''m sure you''ll be a sensation at the tournament!"

    Darius abruptly changed the subject, glancing sideways at Aren. A cunning glint flickered in his eyes. "Speaking of which, Aren, you are now a nobleman of Stormborne. It''s a great honor, but also a heavy burden. You should consider continuing your lineage. Find a worthy spouse who will be a support in life and provide heirs to strengthen your position in the Dominion."

    No, thank you. A second marriage would surely drive me to an early grave. Aren decided to remain silent; after all, it was impolite to refuse the Duke. He would let Darius talk, and then Aren would decide what to do.

    Darius noticed that Aren wasn''t interested but continued anyway. "A handsome young man like you needs a faithful companion. Soon, I will start looking for a suitable match for you. There are many beautiful young women from noble families in Stormborne who dream of a brave warrior like you."

    Aren tried to change the subject as quickly as possible, memories of his first marriage flooding back like a shower of broken glass. "General Valerian mentioned a Veridian who could tell me more about Aether. Who is he?"

    Darius paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "The Veridians¡­ They are a mysterious people who arrived in Atheria about ten years ago. They claim to be travelers from distant lands, interested in our culture and, especially, Aether. We don''t know how they crossed the waters, since none of us has ever crossed them and returned to tell what is on the other side. They diligently study Aether, conduct complex research, but they themselves are unable to use this power."

    So, Veridian is a people, not a person''s name.

    "Can I meet him? Valerian said he''s here."

    "That''s right, Jaxx''im. He is currently returning from his journey to the Wintervale Research Facility. He should arrive any day now. Jaxx''im is a very knowledgeable scholar, especially in matters concerning artifacts. He will be able to conduct a thorough analysis of your abilities and possibly help you unlock your hidden potential."

    Aren was intrigued. "Tell me about this analysis and the artifacts."

    "The Veridians have developed unique methods for measuring and analyzing Ether flows in the human body. They can determine your tier, identify strengths and weaknesses. It could be very useful for you, Aren. As for artifacts, they are materials altered by Ether, formed throughout Atheria after an Ether storm. You''ve seen Valerian''s armor, the metal that''s as flexible as fabric? It was made from an artifact."

    Incredible. I''ll have to ask Valerian if I can try on his armor.

    The conversation was drawing to a close, and dusk was gathering outside the window, painting the sky in violet hues. Darius rose from his desk, stretching as if to loosen stiff muscles. "Well, Aren, I think we''ve talked enough for today. It''s time to get down to business. How about a little training session with Leo before dinner? It will help you better understand his abilities, and him yours. Besides, physical exercise will get the blood flowing and clear your mind."

    Aren nodded, feeling a surge of energy. "I wouldn''t mind a workout."

    Darius grinned, revealing strong, white teeth. "Excellent! Then meet us at the training grounds in half an hour. I''ll have the servants show you the way. Don''t be late, Aren. Leo is probably already looking forward to sparring."

    The Duke headed towards the door to summon the servants, and Aren followed him, pondering the upcoming training session and Darius''s words. Victor will be ecstatic when I tell him everything that''s happened. The tournament, marriage proposals, the Veridians¡­ It seems my life in Atheria is becoming increasingly complicated and unpredictable.

 Chapter 9: First Training

    The training ground was a vast expanse of meticulously kept earth, enclosed by stone walls that echoed with the sounds of exertion and wood striking wood. Banners bearing the Stormborn sigil snapped in the wind, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of yellow and orange. Torches flickered along the walls. As Aren followed the servant through the archway, he saw the grounds were already bustling. Castle guards, clad in leather armor, practiced drills with wooden swords and spears, their movements honed and confident. The air hung thick with the scent of sweat and sand.

    He spotted Leo immediately. The Duke''s son was already warming up, performing vigorous arm and leg swings. Leo wore simple training clothes that emphasized his powerful build. Even without actively channeling Ether, Leo possessed a natural athleticism, a combination of great genetics and years of dedicated training.

    Darius stood nearby, an imposing figure even in casual attire. A massive leather punching bag hung from a thick chain beside him. He gestured for Aren to approach. "Ah, Aren! Perfect timing. We were just about to engage in a bit of a warm-up. Leo is quite keen to demonstrate his strength to you."

    Isla and Kira sat on a stone bench near the edge of the training ground, their eyes bright with curiosity. Isla gave Aren a small wave, while Kira offered a more reserved nod. Looks like I have an audience, Aren thought, a touch of nostalgic amusement tugging at his lips.

    As Aren approached, Leo stepped forward to join him before the Duke. Darius, with a measured tone, began: "Before we commence, allow me to outline the structure of our training regimen. As you are aware, Aren, we are preparing for a tournament that prohibits both weaponry and the active channeling of Ether. Therefore, our focus will be on unarmed combat and physical conditioning. Ether training will be a separate endeavor, aimed at reinforcing the body''s natural resilience, rather than the application of power during combat. Is that clear?"

    Aren nodded, appreciating the logic of the approach.

    Darius grunted in satisfaction and turned back to Leo. "Show Aren what you''re capable of. Strike that bag with the force of Stormborn!"

    Leo smirked, striding towards the bag. He adopted a wide stance, muscles tensing. "With pleasure," he said, and unleashed a powerful punch into the center of the bag.

    The impact was tremendous. The bag flew sideways, swinging wildly on its chain like a rag doll. Dust billowed into the air, and even Aren was impressed by Leo''s raw power. The guards watching the training murmured their approval.

    "Magnificent power!" Darius exclaimed, clapping his hands. "You see, Aren? This is strength forged through years of training!"

    Leo beamed with pride, awaiting praise.

    "Impressive," Aren said, nodding. "But strength isn''t everything. Technique is also important."

    Darius raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what do you suggest, Aren? Will you demonstrate your technique for us?"

    Aren smiled. "Gladly."

    He approached the bag, examining it closely. He ran a hand over the leather, assessing its firmness. The bag was indeed very hard and heavy; Leo''s physical strength was clearly exceptional. Must be the effect of Ether body conditioning. Then, Aren stepped back a short distance, adopting a stance that seemed almost relaxed.

    Leo and Darius watched in silence, anticipation hanging in the air.

    Aren focused on his new body. He tried to feel the connection through his joints, from the ground to his fist. He employed a technique he had studied for decades, one where hardness met softness, where power was channeled through the joints from the ground into the fist. Aren crouched slightly, as if charging his entire body.

    He stepped forward, executing a movement that linked all his joints, each one transferring power in sequence until it culminated in his fist.

    It wasn''t as visually powerful as Leo''s strike. The bag didn''t fly sideways. But when Aren''s fist connected with the leather, a loud, dull thud echoed through the training ground. And a fist-shaped dent remained on the bag, as if it had been pressed inward.

    Everyone froze in astonishment. The guards, who had been continuing their drills, stopped and turned towards Aren, intrigued by the sound.

    "What was that?" Isla whispered, her eyes wide with surprise.

    "Was that a punch?!" exclaimed one of the guards, shaking his head. "I''ve never seen anything like it!"

    "Was that some kind of Ether sound technique?" muttered another, scratching his chin.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Darius roared with laughter, clapping Aren on the shoulder. "Incredible! You must teach us that, Aren!" Behind the humor, Darius hid a genuine desire to learn such a strike.

    Isla clapped her hands, her face radiant with excitement. "That was amazing, Aren!"

    Leo frowned, feeling the attention shift to Aren. But curiosity flickered in his eyes as well. He wanted to understand how Aren had managed to deliver such a blow.

    "Alright, enough warming up," Darius said, stepping back. "Now let''s see some real combat. Aren, Leo, show me what you''re capable of!"

    Aren and Leo faced each other, a respectful distance between them. Leo, still slightly annoyed, radiated determination. Aren, despite the praise, remained calm and focused. The guards, intrigued by the unusual display of power, formed a circle around the fighters, ready to watch the sparring match.

    "Ready when you are," Leo said, a challenge in his voice.

    Aren nodded, adopting a neutral stance. He wanted to assess Leo''s abilities and temper his own display of technique to avoid unnecessary questions.

    Leo lunged forward, unleashing a flurry of blows. He attacked with brute force, each strike possessing the potential to knock Aren off his feet. Yet, Leo exercised restraint, careful not to inflict serious harm on a seemingly weaker opponent. But Aren was ready. He moved with a grace that belied his lack of Ether enhancement, dodging and slipping through Leo''s attacks. He parried, blocked, and evaded, giving Leo no chance to land a single blow.

    Predictable, Aren thought, ducking under another clumsy swing. Leo relied too much on his strength and speed, neglecting basic footwork and technique. His movements were telegraphed, his attacks straightforward and lacking finesse. It''s like a bull charging a matador ¨C impressive, but ultimately ineffective.

    Isla and Kira watched with rapt attention. They were clearly impressed by Leo''s enthusiasm they haven''t seen for a long time, but also intrigued by the apparent ease of Aren''s defense. The guards standing around them whispered, discussing Aren''s technique and Leo''s strength.

    Darius observed the sparring match with a keen eye, occasionally offering commentary. "Leo, do apply yourself with more thought! Utilize your speed to its fullest! Aren, afford him no respite! Press the attack!"

    Aren continued to evade Leo''s attacks, his movements fluid and economical. He felt like he was dancing around a clumsy giant, conserving his energy and waiting for an opening to counterattack. He needed to tread carefully, so as not to embarrass Leo or reveal too much of his skills.

    This world is so focused on Ether that they''ve neglected the fundamentals of combat. They rely on external power instead of honing their technique and minds. It was a primitive approach compared to the refined martial arts he had learned on Earth.

    Aren decided to shift his tactics slightly. He stopped only evading and began to deliver quick, precise strikes to Leo''s arms and legs, throwing him off balance. They weren''t powerful blows, but they were painful enough to make Leo stumble.

    Leo frowned, feeling a surge of frustration. He wasn''t used to someone so easily evading his attacks and landing blows in return.

    Aren continued his tactic, gradually increasing the tempo. He moved around Leo like a shadow, striking and retreating, giving Leo no chance to counterattack.

    But Leo remained unfazed by the unfavorable situation. His eyes were focused, and even as strikes came his way, he was experimenting. Though his attempts at varying the tempo or launching unexpected attacks were easily anticipated by Aren, whose extensive experience made him impervious to the feints of an amateur fighter.

    "Enough! That will conclude our sparring for the present. It''s evident that you both possess markedly different strengths, rendering this form of training ineffective at this juncture. Aren requires a regimen to temper his physique, while Leo must dedicate himself to honing his technique." Darius''s booming voice stopped the sparring match. Leo had not managed to land a clean blow, but he did not seem disappointed.

    The guards watching the fight murmured their approval. They were impressed by Aren''s technique and Leo''s stamina.

    Isla and Kira approached, their faces full of admiration, though Kira''s was trying to hide it.

    "You were both magnificent! I have never seen anyone of your age stand on equal footing with my brother," Isla exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

    My age... Right...

    "Yes, it seems my brother has finally found a worthy opponent," Kira added, her tone more reserved.

    Darius approached Aren and Leo, his face serious.

    "It is quite apparent how you might assist each other in addressing your respective deficiencies. Leo, you shall aid Aren in fortifying his physique, both through physical conditioning and the application of Ether, as you yourself have done. Aren, you will instruct Leo in the effective deployment of his strength and the implementation of tactics within combat."

    Aren and Leo nodded, understanding that Darius was right. They needed to train differently to achieve their goals.

    "That will be all for today," Darius said. "Rest and prepare for tomorrow. We have much work to do."

    The sun had almost completely disappeared below the horizon, and the training ground was lit only by the flickering torches. Everyone left the grounds, contemplating the events of the day.

    As they walked, Leo turned to Aren. "I have never seen such movements. You evaded and parried my attacks with such ease. I confess, it was irritating at first. But then I realized you were provoking me to change my tempo and strategy. I am grateful."

    He understood. How perceptive, I didn''t even say anything.

    "Your father is right. We need to work on our weaknesses before we spar again."

    "Yes, that was not very productive. I couldn''t even land a blow on you." Leo chuckled slightly. Aren smiled in return.

    Returning to his chambers, Aren reflected on the day''s events. He had learned a great deal about Leo''s abilities, Darius''s intentions, and the general level of martial arts in Atheria. He realized that his skills were far more valuable than he had initially thought, and that he needed to be careful about how he used them.

    He collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. He noticed a large metal mug of water near the bed. He crawled over to take a drink, thirst plaguing him after the training and the alcohol from the feast. But the mug was so heavy that he couldn''t even lift it with his injured arm, sore from striking Leo''s steel-hard body. Then he remembered what Leo had said about the items here being deliberately heavy for men.

    They must be mocking me.

    Taking a small sip by tilting the mug, he fell asleep.

 Chapter 10: Second Day at Stormborn

    The first rays of dawn, thin and hesitant, peeked through the gap in the heavy curtains. They painted a pale stripe across the unfamiliar ceiling, a stark reminder that this wasn''t some dream. Aren stirred, his muscles whispering complaints about the unaccustomed luxury of the mattress. For a disoriented moment, he thought he was back in Chronos Labs, but then reality snapped into focus: this was his room in the castle. He hadn''t even registered the luxury of his chambers yesterday, lost as he was in exhaustion and the dim light. Silk sheets. Seriously? I guess I''m a big shot now.

    He pushed himself up, the silk sheets practically trying to strangle him. Even sitting up felt different in this younger body. Weaker. Less responsive. Sixty-five years of hard living, and I''m stuck in this¡­ this Ken doll. He glanced at the heavy metal mug on the bedside table, furrowing his brows. Not that I''m rested, let''s try again.

    He crawled to the mug and, using both hands, managed to lift it. Wouldn''t be this hard with a proper handle. He drank the water as if he were in the middle of the desert, more to celebrate his victory over the unwieldy mug than to quench any real thirst. Right. Because struggling to lift a mug is the pinnacle of warrior training.

    Just then, there was a soft knock at the door. A young maid entered quietly, her head bowed and a fresh set of clothes in her arms. Her cap, while concealing her hair, also hid her face from Aren at that angle. She moved swiftly to the table near the door, placed the clothes down, and turned to Aren, who was now sitting up, trying to look casual. Without raising her head, she spoke in a timid voice.

    ¡°Sir, I¡¯ve been asked to escort you to the dining hall. Everyone is gathering for breakfast. Please change, and I¡¯ll wait outside.¡±

    For a brief moment, her eyes flicked up to his face, taking in his sharp features, pale skin framed by light hair, and the striking yellow of his eyes. A blush spread across her cheeks, and she quickly lowered her gaze, hurrying out of the room. Is there something on my face?

    He rose and dressed in the clothes the servant had laid out for him. Fine blue linen, soft leather, supple calfskin. The kind of outfit that probably cost more than his rusty apartment back on Earth. Talk about a wardrobe upgrade.

    He stepped into the hallway, where the maid waited a short distance away. She glanced at him, blushed again, and quickly turned around.

    ¡°Please, follow me,¡± she said, walking briskly toward the staircase with quick, small steps.

    Aren trailed behind, his eyes taking in the grandeur of the castle. When they arrived at the dining hall, Duke Darius and his family were already seated, bathed in the warm glow of the rising sun. As he entered, a chorus of greetings met him.

    "Ah, Aren! Good morning," Duke Darius greeted him, his voice a pleasant rumble.

    "Good morning, Aren," Isla chirped, her eyes bright. Kira and Leo offered nods of acknowledgement, and Lady Oriana gave a subtle, almost imperceptible smile.

    "Good morning to you all," Aren replied, offering a respectful nod to each of them in turn. He took his seat; the chair was as heavy as yesterday. A servant immediately appeared to offer him a goblet of water and a plate of food, which looked like ordinary scrambled eggs. The plate and utensils didn''t seem heavier than usual, so perhaps not everything is made heavy here.

    "I trust you found your accommodations to your liking?" Darius turned to Aren, after taking a big sip of mead.

    "Sure, slept like a log. Though I confess, I''m still adjusting to the¡­ differences."

    Darius chuckled, a hearty sound that filled the hall. "Indeed. Stormborn Castle is not for the faint of heart. But you will find yourself growing accustomed to it, I assure you."The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    "We are all most grateful for your bravery in saving Isla," Lady Oriana spoke, breaking her usual silence.

    "It was my honor," Aren replied, meeting her eyes. Though I still don''t know why those goons were after her in the first place. "In fact, if I may be so bold, I was hoping to learn more about the Stormborn Dominion. I realize I have much to learn about this world, and I wish to be a worthy member of your court."

    Darius''s eyes twinkled with approval. "An admirable sentiment, Aren. Ask away, then."

    "How does Stormborn Dominion stand in relation to the other Dominions in Atheria?" Aren inquired. "Are there alliances? Conflicts brewing?" Otherwise, why send mercenaries after the Duke''s daughter?

    Darius leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Atheria is a¡­ complicated place, my boy. A tapestry woven with threads of alliance and rivalry. Stormborn Dominion is a strong and independent power, but we maintain trade and diplomatic ties with several others. To the north lies Wintervale, a land known for its¡­ specialized research. To the east, the Sunstone Dominion, a collection of merchant city-states whose loyalty lies with their coffers. And to the west, the Shadowfen, a mysterious and dangerous land best left undisturbed. While the new Shadowfen Duke possesses a certain¡­ affability, his recent reforms to render the Dominion more, shall we say, ''hospitable,'' have raised certain eyebrows."

    "Of course, there are always those who seek to undermine us¡­ but enough of that. Let''s not spoil our lovely breakfast with such unpleasantries."

    Kira, as always, was more grounded. "The political landscape is a viper''s nest, Aren. Alliances are fleeting, betrayals are commonplace, and power is a prize constantly fought over. Tread carefully."

    Leo, predictably, was focused on more immediate concerns. "And you must be strong, Aren. Strength is the only language some understand in this world. Without it, words are just¡­ air."

    Couldn''t agree more.

    Lady Oriana offered a rare, subtle smile. "Indeed. Knowledge, strength, and a touch of¡­ finesse are all valuable assets in Atheria. Strive to cultivate them all, Aren."

    "Well said," Darius boomed, clapping his hands together. "Now I believe it''s time for you young men to begin your training. Leo, be a good lad and escort Aren to the training grounds. The castle is a labyrinth to those who have only been here a few days. Valerian should be along shortly to explain the¡­ finer points of Ether manipulation."

    "Right away, Father!" Leo practically leaped from his chair. "Come on, Aren! Let''s not waste any time!"

    Aren stood up, excited to finally begin his Ether training. "Thank you for your hospitality. I look forward to learning more about Atheria¡­ and Ether, of course."

    He followed Leo out of the dining hall, his mind already racing. He had gleaned some valuable information about the world he now inhabited, but he knew that there was much more to discover.

    As he and Leo approached the training grounds, the familiar scene unfolded before them: guards training as they had the day before. Despite encountering many guards on duty, they clearly adhered to some sort of schedule.

    Valerian was still absent. Therefore, Leo suggested they begin on their own. They warmed up, and after the warm-up, Aren asked, "You didn''t use Ether yesterday, did you? Could you show me what your strike would look like with Ether?"

    "Of course!" Leo practically bounced on the spot, delighted by the opportunity. "But I can''t hit a regular training bag like that; I''ll just demonstrate the strike in the air so I don''t break the equipment."

    Leo adopted his somewhat sloppy stance, and Aren watched intently. A faint, translucent aura began to envelop his body. Aren felt a tension in the air. This must be what Ether feels like.

    Leo stepped forward and struck the air. The force of the blow kicked up a trail of dust several meters ahead. Even standing to the side, Aren could feel his hair flutter in the wind from the impact.

    That''s power. I have to learn this. A greedy smile crept onto his lips. "And how do you acquire the Ether to use it?"

    "Everyone does it differently. For example, I feel it with my whole body, absorbing it from the environment like a towel absorbs water."

    "And how do you train the amount or effectiveness of its application? Meditation? Practice?"

    "Personally, meditation only helps me train my body as a conduit and vessel, meaning how much Ether I can take in and use. However, I practice applying it in combat like I just showed you, through active use." Leo was very proud and pleased that Aren was showing such interest in his skills. He straightened up, seeming to grow a couple of centimeters taller with a satisfied expression.

    He was ready to continue his story about himself, but Valerian appeared on the training ground, strolling leisurely in his artifact armor that shimmered in the sun.

    "My apologies for the delay. Count Darius was so inspired by your training that he instructed me down to the smallest detail. He was also very disappointed that he could not attend personally due to his duties. Well then, let''s begin¡­"

 Chapter 11: Islas Request

    "So, Aren," Valerian began, his voice smooth as velvet. "Today, we shall delve into the fundamentals of Ether manipulation. In particular, we''ll be focusing on how to channel Ether through your very being. Think of Ether as the lifeblood of this world, the energy that courses through all things. Our aim is to learn to tap into that flow, to shape it, and ultimately, to command it."

    Valerian gestured for them to assume a meditative posture. "Leo, you are already familiar with the rudiments, but do attend to my instructions and follow each step with care. There''s no need to be hasty."

    "The first step," Valerian continued, "is to clear one''s mind. Cast aside all distracting thoughts, all worldly cares, and focus upon your inner self. Imagine yourself as an empty vessel, prepared to be filled with Ether."

    Right, just like Eastern meditation back on Earth. Something I always struggled with.

    Aren tried to clear his mind, but found it surprisingly difficult. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, especially considering his unique situation. Focus, Aren, he told himself. Lifeblood. Energy. Empty vessel.

    "Now, I shall saturate the space with Ether, to make it easier for you to sense and draw it in." Valerian closed his eyes, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. An aura of Ether enveloped his body, and the air grew heavy as he slightly furrowed his brow, as if the gravity around him had intensified. He continued without opening his eyes.

    "A stream of my Ether now surrounds you. Sense it flow through your lungs, into your blood, into every cell of your being. Everyone absorbs Ether differently, so if you find it difficult through the skin, try breathing, sight, smell. Vary your perception of what you absorb; sense the softness, fluidity, hardness, heat of the Ether."

    Aren closed his eyes and tried to imagine the Ether entering his body. He expected to feel a surge of energy, a tingling sensation, something. But all he felt was a slight dizziness and a growing sense of impatience.

    Leo, on the other hand, seemed to be in his element. A translucent aura began to form around his body, a shimmering, ethereal glow that pulsed with gentle energy. His face was serene and focused.

    "Once you sense the Ether permeating your being, begin to channel it through various pathways. Envision a network of unseen conduits within you, and guide the Ether along those routes. Commence with the primary channels, those that traverse your arms and legs, and then proceed to the more intricate ones that pass through your internal organs and, indeed, your brain."

    "And the final stage, direct the Ether into your muscles to fortify them. Visualize the Ether infusing each muscle, rendering it stronger and denser."

    Aren hadn''t even gotten to the absorption stage yet, which was frustrating, but he desperately tried to switch from sensation to sensation.

    Suddenly, Leo flinched and snapped out of his meditation, his face contorted in pain. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, clutching his arm.

    Valerian frowned, concerned. "What is it, Leo?"

    "I usually strengthen the whole body, focusing on the muscles, I missed the balance and seem to have damaged my arm."

    Valerian sighed. "Even the most basic techniques can prove challenging. Do not be discouraged, Leo. It requires both time and practice. Focusing Ether where you require it for strengthening is far more effective than merely circulating it throughout the body."

    "So, uh," Aren began, scratching the back of his head. "I don''t think I can even get the Ether into me."

    Valerian chuckled. "It requires time and practice, Aren. No one masters this on their first attempt. Ether manipulation is about control, not brute force. Sense the energy within yourself, allow it to flow naturally."

    Aren tried again, focusing on Valerian''s words. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the Ether as a river flowing through him. He pictured himself guiding that energy to his fingertips, shaping it with his will. But all he felt was a faint tingling and a growing sense of inadequacy.

    Suddenly, he felt a light touch on his head. He opened his eyes and saw a beautiful yellow bird perched on his head, chirping at him. Definitely not a species from Earth.

    Valerian smiled faintly. "It seems even animals sense your unique potential, Aren. Who knows, perhaps you possess a talent for communicating with them."

    Aren waved his hand, trying to shoo away the bird that had started strutting across his head. Don''t interrupt my training, you little rascal!This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The training continued for several more hours, but Aren made little progress. Leo, despite his initial setback, continued to meditate in his usual way.

    "That will suffice for today," Valerian announced. "Rest and allow your bodies to recover. The Duke has instructed that you have a hand-to-hand combat training session without Ether this evening. Aren, you will demonstrate your techniques for us."

    Aren stood and stretched, loosening his aching muscles from sitting for so long. "Alright."

    "Do not fret, Aren. It took me months to master the first step of absorbing Ether, and that was from childhood. Everyone remarked on how quickly I progressed. Patience, my friend."

    "It''s not needed in the tournament anyway, so I''ll bear with it," Aren muttered to himself, because patience was something he lacked.

    They headed back to the castle for lunch.

    Lunch in the castle dining hall was a welcome respite. Aren, Leo, Kira, and Isla sat together at a large, polished table, servants bustling around, preparing the table. Darius and Lady Oriana had left the castle on business, leaving Valerian in charge, but he didn''t join them for lunch either. The atmosphere was light and friendly, filled with laughter and casual conversation.

    "I''m telling you, it landed right on his head!" Leo was recounting the training session. Aren just listened, Let the boy enjoy himself.

    "Yellow, you say? Must be a Goldion. I''ve read they are quite curious," Kira lost her constrained tone, only after hearing about the bird.

    "So, Aren," Isla said, her voice warm and inviting. "How are you finding the castle? It must be quite overwhelming, coming from... the library far away."

    "Overwhelming is one word for it," Aren replied, spearing a piece of roast meat with his fork. "Maze-like is another. I swear, I get lost every time I try to find the lavatory."

    Isla giggled, a melodious sound that made Aren pause. "Perhaps I could give you a tour after lunch? Show you some of the castle''s hidden gems?"

    Hidden gems, huh? Sounds intriguing. "I wouldn''t want to impose," he said, even though he had nothing else to do.

    "Nonsense!" Isla exclaimed. "I''d be delighted. Besides, you must feel a bit lost in such a large and unfamiliar place. I''d be happy to help you feel more at home."

    After lunch Isla led Aren through a labyrinth of manicured hedges and fragrant flowerbeds. She pointed out various landmarks, recounting stories of the castle and her ancestors who had once lived within its walls.

    "And over there," she said, pointing to a crumbling stone fountain, "my great-grandmother supposedly had a secret rendezvous with a wandering bard. Scandalous, I know!"

    Aren chuckled. "Sounds like she was quite a troublemaker."

    As they walked, they ventured into more secluded areas, such as hidden courtyards overgrown with ivy and ancient libraries filled with dusty tomes. Isla seemed to know every nook and cranny of the castle, her enthusiasm infectious.

    Aren couldn''t help but notice the subtle signs of affection Isla was displaying. She often brushed lightly against him as they walked. She held eye contact for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, her eyes sparkling with warmth. And she seemed genuinely interested in his thoughts and opinions, hanging on his every word.

    Is she... flirting with me? Aren wondered, his mind struggling to process the possibility. He had long forgotten what affection felt like. Love was associated with tragedy for him, so he had long buried it deep inside. She''s probably just being polite, he told himself. Don''t get any ideas, old man.

    As they strolled through a secluded rose garden, Isla''s expression turned serious. "Aren," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I have something to tell you. Something I haven''t told anyone else."

    Aren''s heart skipped a beat. This young body is our of control, get a grip, you fool! "What is it?"

    "I''ve been doing some investigating of my own," she confessed, her eyes darting around as if she expected someone to be eavesdropping. "And I want to find the bastards who send the mercenaries after me."

    Aren exhaled, expecting a different conversation. "Go on."

    "I believe the mercenaries were sent by someone within our Dominion. Certain nobles have held a long-standing grudge against my father."

    Aren listened.

    Isla hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I can''t go into details right now," She paused, her gaze meeting Aren''s. "That''s why I need your help."

    Aren blinked, surprised. "My help? What can I do?"

    "You can clearly stand up for yourself, at least against ordinary people. I need you to accompany me to a couple of places where it might be a little dangerous."

    Aren hesitated. He knew that getting involved could be risky. It could potentially put him at odds with Duke Darius, the man who had taken him in and given him a new life.

    "I don''t know, Isla," he said cautiously. "I don''t want to go behind your father''s back."

    Isla waved away his concerns. "Father will be too protective," she said. "He''ll lock me in my room and forbid me from doing anything. I can handle this myself, with your help."

    Aren bit his lip, weighing his options. Another dangerous adventure was very appealing to him. He was drawn to Isla, to her intelligence, her courage, and her unwavering determination. He wanted to help her, to protect her. But he was also wary of getting involved in a potentially dangerous situation without Darius''s knowledge.

    "Alright," he said finally, his voice laced with reluctance. "I''ll help you. But on one condition: you have to tell your father about this. I''m not going to participate in anything that could jeopardize your relationship with him."

    Isla sighed. "I knew you''d say that," she said. "But I''m telling you, it''s not a good idea. He''ll only make things worse."

    "Then convince him otherwise," Aren countered. "But I''m not going to do this behind his back."

    Isla stared at him for a long moment, frustration etched on her face. Finally, she nodded sharply. "Fine," she said, her voice tight with suppressed anger. "I will do it alone then!"

    And with that, she turned and ran, disappearing quickly into the maze of rose bushes. Aren just stood there, a sigh escaping his lips. He knew that now was not the time to try and convince her to abandon this endeavor. Her mind was set.

    Okay, how am I gonna get back to my room now?

 Chapter 12: Mysterious Arrival

    Aren wandered through the castle corridors, utterly lost. He was trying to find his way back to his room after the meeting with Isla. This place is a freaking maze! How did I even get turned around? I thought I remembered the way¡­ or did I just imagine it? Maybe I should have left a trail of breadcrumbs like in that fairy tale. He stopped, leaning against a cold stone wall, trying to get his bearings. Fragments of memories¡ªturns and forks in the path¡ªswirled in his head, all blurring together into one indistinguishable mess. Alright, old man, get it together. You''re not some kid lost in the woods. Think logically¡­ although, what logic is there to be found here?

    He bumped into a guard patrolling the corridor. He didn''t want to look like an idiot in front of the castle staff, but it seemed unavoidable. "Ugh, excuse me. I''m trying to find the dining hall. Could you just point me in the right direction? I seem to be going in circles." From there, he could find his way back to his room.

    The guard, a stern but courteous man, gave Aren clear and concise directions. "Of course, sir. Proceed straight down this corridor until you reach a large tapestry depicting an Ursai. Turn left there, then pass three statues of knights, and you''ll see the grand doors to the dining hall," the guard replied, standing ramrod straight. He gestured in the direction, as if guiding a lost traveler.

    Ursai? I suppose I will know it when I see it.

    Aren thanked him and finally found his way back to his room. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, as if he''d escaped a dark forest. He went to the window to look out over the city, but the pleasant view was quickly replaced by thoughts of Isla. She wasn''t one to give up or compromise easily. And she probably wouldn''t talk to her father either. Aren remembered his grandson from Earth, Daniel. Even though everyone respected and feared his grandfather, he never listened to anyone, always doing whatever he pleased. Geez, am I getting sentimental, or is this just the new hormonal profile of this body? When I get the chance, I''ll have to visit that rascal. Now I''ve got plenty of money.

    While Aren was pondering the past and how to deal with Isla, Valerian knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a response.

    "Aren, are you ready for your evening training? I''ve been informed by the healer that your flows are a bit¡­ unsettled. It may cause problems even if you don''t use Ether. Are you sure you''re up to it? You didn''t seem to heed her warnings before, but I thought I''d check."

    Aren waved away Valerian''s concern, declaring that he felt fine and was eager to demonstrate his combat techniques. He didn''t want Valerian to think he was a weakling. "I''m fine, Valerian. I feel great! By the way, what happened to ''Sir Aren''? I thought that''s how you''d be addressing me now," Aren replied with a smirk, clearly teasing.

    "Ha! Duke Darius appointed me as your Ether instructor, which, I suppose, entitles me to address you simply as ''Aren''," Valerian said, appreciating Aren''s jab. "Since you appear to be in good spirits, shall we proceed to the training grounds? Leo is positively eager; I haven''t witnessed such enthusiasm in him before. You''re having a good influence on his determination."

    Aren, Leo, and Valerian gathered at the training grounds. The evening sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, creating a beautiful backdrop for their session. "Alright, today I''m going to show you some basic techniques. They''re simple but effective, based on the principles of balance and using your opponent''s strength against them," Aren said, adopting a fighting stance. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and hands raised in front of him.

    Aren demonstrated a series of simple but effective martial arts moves, emphasizing efficiency and practicality. He showed them how to use their body weight to knock an opponent off balance, how to block strikes, and how to deliver quick and precise counterattacks. Each movement was polished and precise, as if he''d been doing this his whole life. I''ll only show them the basic stuff. But to them, it''ll look like magic! The key is confidence and presentation.

    Leo was skeptical at first. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched Aren with disbelief. "This all looks rather¡­ simple. I''m not sure how effective it would be against a well-armed opponent," Leo said, raising an eyebrow.

    Valerian, on the other hand, was intrigued. He watched Aren''s every move intently, as if trying to unlock the secret to his skill. "I see potential in this. These movements seem intuitive and fast. Show us again, Aren," Valerian requested, his eyes glued to each action. He leaned forward for a better view.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Aren demonstrated the basic stances, angles, and shifts in the body''s center of gravity. He explained how to put your entire weight into a strike, not just a portion of it. "See how I use my body weight to amplify the force of the blow? It''s not just about strength, but also proper positioning and balance," Aren explained, demonstrating the technique in the air.

    "Alright, Leo, you try it now. Let''s start with the stance and balance. When you''re standing, you need to center your weight between your feet, regardless of their position. Don''t tense your legs too much; be like a spring. That way, when I push you, the force will travel through your body to your legs and then into the ground, and you''ll stay put."

    Leo got into the stance, shuffling his feet to find the right position.

    "Ready? Good. Now I''m going to push. Direct the force of the push into the ground through your legs." Aren approached and gently pushed Leo in the chest. Leo wobbled slightly but remained standing. He''s too heavy. I''ll have to push harder. Aren repeated the push, putting his full weight into it to have some effect on the giant. Leo couldn''t resist and took a step back.

    "Hey! You pushed too hard!" he protested.

    "I weigh a lot less than you. If your stance was correct, I wouldn''t have been able to move you at all!"

    Valerian stepped in. "Alright, focus!"

    Aren and Leo straightened up.

    "Then try pushing me. I''ll show you. Just don''t come at me with full force. You understand the point of the exercise, right?" Aren suggested.

    "Okay, I get it. I need to push hard enough to make you lose your balance."

    Aren adopted his stance. Actually, he always stood balanced like this out of habit, but for the full effect, his feet needed to be shoulder-width apart. Leo lightly pushed him with one hand. Aren tilted his body slightly and absorbed the push like jelly. Leo was surprised and decided to try again, but the result was the same. Suddenly, a "brilliant" idea came to him. He enveloped his body in Ether and pushed Aren even harder. Aren didn''t expect that, but he didn''t fall. Since the force was directed towards his legs, he slid about half a meter across the ground, leaving two lines from his feet.

    "Hey, that''s not fair!" he exclaimed.

    "Hahaha! I wanted to test you. Turns out this stance is even more amazing than I thought. You didn''t even fall."

    "Leo, behave yourself," Valerian''s gruff voice cut in. "Nevertheless, he''s right, Aren. That''s truly remarkable. To withstand a push like that solely through proper stance is something else."

    Leo was impressed by Aren''s skills. He began to understand that behind the simple movements lay a deep understanding of combat principles. Valerian expressed his appreciation.

    "We''ll take things slowly with the new techniques. Leo, you''ll concentrate on perfecting that stance, and I''ll give you a hand with your practice. And you, Aren, you''ve done splendidly. I recommend you continue with your Ether meditation. The more you persevere, the quicker you''ll find your flow."

    Aren sat down next to them in a meditative pose, recalling Valerian''s instructions from the morning training, and immersed himself in the search for Ether. Leo got into his stance, and Valerian pushed him with a training sword from different angles to help him get used to maintaining his balance and directing the force into the ground. This went on for a couple of hours. Leo gradually began to absorb the light pushes, but Aren still couldn''t feel the Ether, which frustrated him greatly, even though he knew it could take months. As the training session was coming to an end, one of the servants approached and informed Valerian that Veridian Jaxx''im had arrived. The servant looked out of breath, as if he had run to the backyard as quickly as possible. "Forgive me, General, but a guest has arrived, Scholar Jaxx''im," the servant said, bowing.

    "That''s enough for today. Aren, Leo, come with me. We must greet our guest," Valerian said, leaving the training sword in the weapon rack.

    They walked through the castle to the outer courtyard, where the main gates were located. Isla and Kira joined them along the way. Isla shot Aren a resentful look and pointedly turned away. Well, she''s definitely mad.

    They emerged into the outer courtyard, where Darius and Lady Oriana were already standing with a crowd of servants and guards.

    A carriage pulled by two black horses stood at the gates. It was immediately clear who the Veridian was. Standing next to the carriage was Jaxx''im ¨C a humanoid figure with dark blue skin and bright lime green glowing eyes without pupils. He wore a long robe adorned with strange symbols. His face conveyed wisdom and mystery. Aren was stunned and fascinated. He had never seen anything like it. What in the hell is that? Blue skin and acid-green eyes! He looks like some sort of demon from a movie.

    Jaxx''im surveyed the castle and everyone present. He was accompanied by ordinary people in similar robes, as well as a rider and a couple of guards in armor unlike that of Stormborn. He approached the Duke and bowed slightly.

    "Greetings, Your Grace. I bring many glorious tidings and gifts." His voice was almost reptilian, raspy, and easily heard even from a distance.

    "Welcome home! I can''t wait to hear your stories!" Darius spread his arms wide in his usual manner, his voice echoing across the courtyard. "Your chambers and laboratory have remained untouched since your departure. Settle in and join us for dinner. I have much news to share as well."

    Jaxx''im bowed again and gestured to the group accompanying him to unload the carriage. They moved towards the eastern part of the castle, presumably where his laboratory and chambers were located. Everyone began to disperse. The servants started helping Jaxx''im''s team, and the rider lit a pipe.

    Aren decided not to ask why the Veridian looked the way he did. But he was very curious to hear what he would say at dinner.

 Chapter 13: Warning Signs

    Stormborn Castle shimmered in the evening light, preparing for a grand dinner. Inside the dining hall, adorned for the special occasion, the Dominion''s most prominent nobles gathered. Aren, dressed in a newly tailored doublet of deep blue velvet, felt a touch out of place amidst all the splendor and formality. The doublet, embroidered with gold thread depicting the Dominion''s crest, fit his rejuvenated physique perfectly.

    Funny, I used to hate tuxedos and bow ties. Now I''m relearning how to navigate high society. Though, I must admit, this doublet is a lot more comfortable.

    Duke Darius, as always, radiated confidence and warmth, greeting his guests with a booming voice and a wide smile. Beside him stood Lady Oriana, his wife, restrained and elegant in an ivory silk gown adorned with pearls and lace. Isla, Valerian, Leo, Kira, and, of course, Jaxx''im, recently arrived from Wintervale, were also in attendance.

    The dinner commenced with the usual formalities and pleasantries. Guests exchanged greetings and compliments, discussing the latest news and social gossip. Servants bustled between the tables, offering a variety of dishes and drinks. Aren eyed the unfamiliar delicacies with interest, his senses overwhelmed by aromas he''d never encountered on Earth. Roasted meats sat alongside other savory dishes, and game pies filled the air with a scent that was both rich and alien. Exotic fruits, glistening with an unknown glaze, added a sweet, almost cloying note to the medley of smells. He wondered what they tasted like, these dishes of a world so different from his own. He noticed a deep red wine being poured, its bouquet rich and spicy, unlike any vintage he remembered.

    I wonder, is that meat from some local critter, or something more exotic from Wintervale? Hope there''s nothing here that''ll trigger an allergy, though this body should be accustomed to the food of this world, after all.

    Duke Darius, eager to introduce his new nobleman, turned to Jaxx''im. "Allow me to present Sir Aren, our newest guest. He played a vital role in rescuing Isla from mercenaries." Darius launched into the story of the attack on Isla, embellishing Aren''s bravery and skill. He described how Aren single-handedly fought off a group of armed mercenaries, using his incredible combat skills and cunning, and how he decided to grant him a noble title under the Stormborn name.

    Here we go, Aren thought. Now I''m being painted as a hero, even though I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Gotta play the part.

    Jaxx''im gave Aren a long, piercing look, as if trying to see through him. His bright green eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light. The gaze felt like a scan, and Aren felt a slight discomfort. He usually sensed some kind of aura, emotion, or personality from those around him, but with Jaxx''im, he felt only emptiness.

    Strange. I''m not feeling anything. It''s like staring into a void. Maybe he''s just really good at controlling his emotions? Or is this a characteristic of his kind? He recalled the emotionless drone he''d encountered in Chronos Labs ¨C cold, mechanical, and devoid of any discernible personality. I need to be careful around this blue guy.

    Darius shifted the conversation to Wintervale, inquiring about Duke Corvus and the Ether Research Facility. "How fares Duke Corvus? And how are the research efforts progressing in Wintervale?"

    "Duke Corvus is an exceptional scholar and a gracious host. Wintervale''s Research Facility thrives under his guidance. It houses many Veridians dedicated to scientific pursuits. Since my last visit, the Research Facility has grown into a veritable settlement. Duke Corvus is truly an excellent leader; it is a pity that your relations with him are strained."

    I wonder what new theories they''re cooking up over there? Interdimensional travel, perhaps? I wonder what would happen if I teleported from here to another world, and they decided to pull me out of the capsule back in Chronos Labs.

    "I also bring with me much information regarding the Ether Storms¡­ phenomena shrouded in mystery and danger. Unpredictable vortexes capable of distorting the very fabric of reality. They birth artifacts imbued with incredible power, but the price for that power can be exceedingly high."

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    Jaxx''im paused, his eyes flashing brighter, as if he were about to unveil a crucial piece of information. He looked around at the nobles, holding their attention. He seemed less like he was just having dinner and more like he was giving a big speech, making sure everyone was listening.

    "My theory has been proven within the walls of Wintervale''s Research Facility. The Veridians, dedicated to the study of Ether, have reached a unified conclusion: an Ether Storm is a reaction. The Ether''s reaction to abuse."

    He raised a hand, as if weighing something invisible.

    "Anyone who dares to wield too much Ether in a short span risks provoking a storm. And remember¡­ a storm is always tethered to the location where the abuse occurred. It will erupt where the Ether was used excessively."

    Jaxx''im looked directly at the assembled nobles, his gaze piercing and cautionary.

    "Be wary of the Ether. Its power is great, but its wrath can be devastating." Jaxx''im cast a brief glance at Valerian, as if singling him out. Apparently, only the general possessed enough power to provoke the Ether''s wrath.

    Ether Storms? Sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie. I wonder how dangerous they really are?

    "During my journey here, I received a message from Wintervale regarding a surge of Ether activity within your Dominion. A surge of such magnitude that it could lead to an Ether Storm. But as the storms usually occur within a day, we may have been fortunate this time."

    This statement caused a ripple of unease and anxiety among the guests, especially Darius, who was responsible for the safety of his Dominion. Darius frowned, considering what he''d heard. "An Ether Storm? That is grave news. We must be prepared for any eventuality. Jaxx''im, tell me more after dinner."

    "Incidentally, I have brought a device for measuring Ether tiers. This will give the Dominion its own capability to monitor Ether," Jaxx''im said, casually changing the subject.

    Leo perked up in his chair upon hearing this. "Really? Finally, I can learn my true tier with precision! Jaxx''im, when can you test me?"

    "Patience, young sir. I have many interesting things with me. Allow me time to prepare a laboratory."

    Darius supported Leo''s enthusiasm. "Leo and Aren are preparing for the upcoming tournament. Perhaps you could assist Aren in mastering Ether manipulation? It would be of great benefit to him."

    Jaxx''im looked at Aren again, his eyes unreadable. "I would be glad to help. Come to my laboratory tomorrow evening. I need time to unpack and prepare everything. I also brought a prototype that I was working on at the Research Facility. This device can help locate Ether artifacts, but its range is currently too limited; it only reacts within 100 meters."

    Kira chimed into the conversation, "How interesting, so it could be useful if someone takes it on a journey, and if they''re lucky enough to be near an artifact, it will alert them?"

    "Correct, Lady Kira, you are as perceptive as always. I am working on increasing its range, so for now, I cannot entrust it to your travelers. Once it is ready, an expedition can be sent to search for undiscovered artifacts."

    Darius stroked his beard, already lost in thought, contemplating tactics and the future. "That could greatly benefit our Dominion. In these trying times, artifacts hold particular value, especially if we can find materials of a rare nature."

    The guests listened quietly to the Veridian''s tale, occasionally gasping and whispering amongst themselves.

    Throughout the dinner, Isla pointedly ignored Aren, refusing to meet his eyes or acknowledge his presence. Her anger was palpable, creating an awkward atmosphere. Aren felt uncomfortable. Well, she''s definitely upset. I need to talk to her after dinner.

    Lady Oriana and Kira occasionally asked questions during Jaxx''im''s stories, showing interest in his research and his experiences in Wintervale. Valerian remained silent throughout the dinner, watching Jaxx''im and Aren with a keen eye. His silence added to the sense of mystery and intrigue.

    Valerian is acting strange. Why is he watching Jaxx''im so closely?

    Aren felt a mixture of curiosity, unease, and excitement. He was intrigued by Jaxx''im''s knowledge and his offer to help him learn to wield Ether, but he was also wary of his lack of discernible personality and the potential danger of Ether activity in Stormborn. Despite Isla''s coldness, Aren resolved to speak with her again, making one last attempt to dissuade her from her dangerous investigation. If she remained adamant, he would do everything he could to help her, even if it meant going behind Darius''s back.

    After dinner, Aren decided to wait for Isla to leave the hall and catch up with her for a private conversation. But his plan failed before it even began. Theodore, with a cigar in his mouth, approached him, inquiring about his techniques and how he was settling into the castle. He mentioned his daughter, who had been looking for a husband for a long time, hinting at a potential marriage alliance.

    Why does everyone here want to marry me off? Back on Earth, actually getting married was a monumental challenge.

 Chapter 14: Shadows of Stormia

    The third day of Aren''s stay at Stormborn Castle began. He was slowly acclimating to the castle''s confusing network of corridors and staircases. The servants, now recognizing him, greeted him by name with a respectful nod or a cheerful "Good morning, Sir Aren." He found himself surprisingly at peace. The warmth and acceptance radiating from the Stormborn family was gradually thawing the icy fortress around his heart. Back on Earth, the concept of family had been fleeting, a brief, cherished memory of his son''s early years. The rest of his life had been a relentless, uphill battle against adversity and loss. He even began to perceive subtle alterations in his own character ¨C a burgeoning softness, a touch of almost childlike naivet¨¦, and a disconcerting willingness to trust others.

    Could this be a physiological side effect of inhabiting this youthful body? Scientists back on Earth had long proven the two-way influence of mind and body. Hormones, neurotransmitters, cellular regeneration... it all adds up. Hopefully, my core personality, the sum of my experiences, won''t completely dissolve under the influence of this adolescent hormonal cocktail. Or maybe... maybe it wouldn''t be such a terrible thing if it did. Maybe a little less cynicism and a little more optimism is exactly what I need.

    Morning began, as usual, with the training session in the courtyard. Leo was showing promising, albeit incremental, progress in concentrating Ether. Not entirely surprising, considering he''d been diligently training in its manipulation since he was a kid. Valerian, however, was unusually withdrawn and cloaked in a somber silence, likely a direct consequence of Jaxx''im''s arrival. Aren suspected there was more to the story between those two.

    Aren decided his body needed a dose of good old-fashioned physical conditioning. He opted for a standard, time-tested muscle-building routine, a short, focused session in the morning to prime his muscles, and a longer, more intense workout scheduled for the evening. He structured his morning workout according to the Pareto principle, a concept he''d always found useful: 20% of his time dedicated to traditional physical exercises, like push-ups and squats, and the remaining 80% devoted to Ether meditation. He''d flip the ratio in the evening. Despite his persistent efforts, he still hadn''t made any discernible headway in absorbing or manipulating Ether. He could feel it, sense it swirling around him, but grasping it, drawing it into himself, remained frustratingly elusive. Still, he was pleased to have reintroduced strength training into his daily regimen. Can''t hurt to have a little extra muscle, even if I can''t shoot lightning bolts out of my fingertips.

    Later, the Stormborn household gathered for lunch in the grand dining hall. Jaxx''im and Valerian were absent. The Veridian is probably locked away in his laboratory. Or maybe his kind only needs to eat once a day? Or perhaps once a week? I should really ask Darius about Veridian physiology. Isla, much to Aren''s growing annoyance, kept on pointedly ignoring him throughout the meal. This was a stark and perplexing contrast to her usual playful and teasing demeanor. Kira, ever the astute observer, noticed the tension simmering between them and leaned in close to Aren, who was seated beside her. "What''s this? Did you two lovebirds have a lovers'' quarrel?" The usually stoic girl actually giggled, a rare and slightly unsettling sound.

    "Lovebirds? I have absolutely no idea what you''re talking about," Aren replied, waving his hand dismissively in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

    "Hey, Aren," Leo interjected, his youthful enthusiasm bubbling to the surface, "I''m really looking forward to testing that Ether measurement device Jaxx''im brought. The Veridians are always studying Ether, dissecting it, quantifying it. Jaxx''im will surely find a way to accelerate your progress."

    "Yeah, I certainly hope so," Aren replied, forcing a smile. I''d settle for just a tiny spark of Ether at this point.

    Darius, ever the diplomat, joined the conversation. "Our Jaxx''im is truly exceptional, even among the Veridians, in his unparalleled intellect and his boundless inventive spirit. I, myself, am quite eager to examine all the fascinating artifacts he brought back from his travels. Though, I highly doubt Duke Corvus would have allowed him to take anything truly rare or significant. We did, however, send a batch of our own carefully selected artifacts with Jaxx''im as a gesture of goodwill and a demonstration of our continued cooperation."

    "So, Jaxx''im was the one who designed and created Valerian''s armor? The one that appears to be crafted from solid metal, yet possesses the flexibility of velvet?" Aren inquired, remembering he has to gather as much information as possible.

    "Indeed. He dedicated six months of his time, working closely with our most skilled blacksmiths, meticulously instructing them on the intricate processes required to work with such an unusual and demanding material. The end result is truly remarkable. Ordinary weapons simply cannot pierce or cut the metal, yet it doesn''t restrict movement in the slightest and provides complete, full-body protection."

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    Amazing. Earth still doesn''t have anything remotely comparable to that. This world is full of surprises.

    After lunch, Aren deliberately lingered in the dining hall, waiting for Isla to make her exit. Once she''d disappeared into the maze of corridors, he followed, quickly catching up with her. "Wait, we need to talk," he said, his voice firm.

    Isla stopped abruptly and turned to face him, pointedly furrowing her brow and crossing her arms defensively. Her expression was a carefully constructed mask of annoyance.

    "Did you talk to your father about your little adventure plan?" Aren asked.

    "Father would immediately confine me to my chambers, place guards at my door, and throw away the key, as I already explained to you!" she retorted, her voice laced with exasperation. "He''d treat me like a child!"

    Young people are so infuriatingly dramatic and impulsive.

    "I don''t want you running off on your own, Isla," Aren said, his voice rising slightly, betraying his growing irritation with her stubbornness. "It''s reckless and foolish. I''m willing to help you, but only on one very specific condition: if the place you want to go is deemed too dangerous, I will go alone and find out whatever information you need."

    Isla bristled, but reluctantly considered his offer. Deep down, she knew she didn''t really have a choice. She''d been bluffing when she''d confidently declared she could handle everything herself.

    "Fine," she conceded, her voice tight with suppressed frustration. She gave a curt nod. "Then let''s go to the map room. I''ll explain the details of my plan."

    They walked in silence to the map room, the same room where Valerian had subjected Aren to a rather intense interrogation on his first day at Stormborn. This time, the room was bathed in the warm, golden light of the afternoon sun, which streamed through the tall windows and illuminated the large table. Isla swiftly rolled up the familiar map of Ateria and pulled another from beneath the table. Aren immediately recognized the layout of the city they were currently residing in. The map was clearly labeled "Stormia."

    Stormborn Dominion, capital city Stormia. Simple and straightforward geography, at least.

    "My plan is to infiltrate the infamous Black Market," Isla began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Rumor has it that it''s a sprawling underground settlement located directly beneath our very city. It''s supposedly the central hub for all criminal activity, illicit trade, and forbidden goods within the Stormborn Dominion. Father, of course, vehemently denies its existence, dismissing it as mere folklore. However, I''ve repeatedly overheard visiting merchants and nobles discussing the rumors in hushed tones. I''m going to disguise myself as a common adventurer and discreetly gather information at the Adventurer''s Guild," she said, pointing to a large, imposing building clearly marked on the map, "And then I''ll try my luck at a few taverns." The taverns were scattered across various districts of the city.

    "The first step is to acquire suitable disguises, something that will allow us to blend in with the common citizens. Then, we''ll head straight to the Adventurer''s Guild and start asking around. We might even be able to locate an information broker, someone willing to sell us what we need to know. I''ve been carefully saving my allowance for just such an occasion," she added with a sly grin. "I''ve got a decent stash of gold tucked away, enough to bribe whoever we need to."

    "Okay, and what exactly is the plan once we actually manage to find this elusive Black Market?" Aren asked, his skepticism evident.

    "Once we''re inside, we can discreetly inquire about the order to kidnap, or possibly assassinate, me," Isla explained.

    "As I recall, those mercenaries were quite insistent that they couldn''t leave without you. That suggests they were under orders to bring you back alive, not to kill you."

    "Hmm," Isla paused, her brow furrowed in thought as she replayed the events of that terrifying night in her mind. "If that''s the case, then such an order would certainly be known within the Black Market''s network of informants. We''ll attempt to purchase the relevant information, identify the individuals responsible, and then leave quietly and discreetly. The plan is practically flawless!"

    "Hold on a moment. You''re the Duke''s daughter, Isla. Everyone probably knows your face. How are you planning to deal with that?"

    "That''s precisely why I need you, Aren," Isla replied, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "I''ll conceal my face with a hooded cloak and a thick scarf, effectively obscuring my features. You, on the other hand, will be the one asking the questions. No one in Stormia, aside from a few members of the nobility, knows who you are."

    Aren considered her plan, weighing the potential risks and benefits. Besides, there was a distinct possibility that they wouldn''t even find this mythical Black Market. Escorting her into the city, at least, seemed like a relatively trivial undertaking.

    "Alright," he conceded, "but if we actually manage to locate the Black Market, I''m going in alone. You will return to the castle. That is non-negotiable."

    Isla frowned again, this time with genuine displeasure. "Hm... Fine!" she agreed reluctantly. However, a hint of excitement and anticipation still lingered in her voice.

    "Agreed," Aren confirmed. "Alright, well, I gotta go find Jaxx''im. It''s not even evening yet, but I''m already itching to get started, and I bet Leo is too. I should probably go first, just to avoid any unwanted attention. Kira''s already starting to spin wild and completely unfounded stories."

    "What kind of stories?"

    "Don''t worry about it," Aren replied, waving his hand dismissively. He cautiously opened the door and peeked into the corridor, ensuring that it was clear. Then, he stepped out and headed down the familiar path, determined to locate Leo and finally visit Jaxx''im in his lab.

 Chapter 15: Veridian Lab

    An air of anticipation hung heavy in the castle corridors as Aren and Leo approached Jaxx''im''s laboratory. The door stood slightly ajar, and the sounds of bustling activity spilled out, hinting that the organization within was still underway.

    With a groan, the door swung inward, revealing Jaxx''im''s chaotic domain in all its glory. The laboratory was a sensory overload. The air hung thick with the scent of old books and yellowed paper, mingling with a strange potpourri of unusual smells ¨C hints of ozone, something akin to burnt sugar, and a faint, metallic tang that tickled the nostrils. A group of robed figures, who had arrived with Jaxx''im, darted around the spacious room like worker bees, gathering scattered scrolls, books, artifacts, and bizarre devices, placing them in designated spots. Shelves overflowing with books lined the walls, complete with a ladder to reach the higher levels. Jaxx''im stood with his back to the guests near a table, examining something intently. Hearing the door creak, he turned. His movements were slow and smooth, almost deliberate.

    "Welcome, welcome!" Jaxx''im exclaimed, his eyes as unreadable as ever. "Come in, come in! Make yourselves at home¡­ if you can find a place to stand." He gestured around the cluttered room. "You''re a bit early. Feel free to look around, but try not to touch anything."

    The young men stepped into the room, their eyes wide with wonder. The artifacts scattered around were truly extraordinary ¨C materials fundamentally altered by Ether. A chunk of rock, once a dull gray, now shimmered with iridescent veins of emerald and sapphire, pulsing with a faint, internal light. A twisted branch, seemingly plucked from a nightmare tree, was as black as pitch and crackled with contained energy. One of the assistants carried a tray with a small block of wood that rippled like jelly with each step. Glass containers held what appeared to be liquid artifacts, their colors ranging from vibrant hues to stark black and crystal clear.

    Scattered throughout the room were devices of various shapes and materials, all adorned with similar runes and symbols. The scene felt surreal to the young visitors. Like children in a toy store, they wandered through the laboratory, examining each item with fascination.

    Victor would shave 30 years off his age if he saw this place, Aren mused.

    As they drew closer to the Veridian, Aren''s gaze fell upon a heavy tome resting on Jaxx''im''s table. The book was bound in dark leather, its surface worn and cracked with age. The color was a deep, blood red, and intricate, faded tooling hinted at a forgotten artistry. But it was the symbol engraved on the cover that truly caught Aren''s attention. It was an intricate design of interwoven circles and lines, seeming to pulse with a faint inner light. The symbol was unfamiliar, yet it stirred a sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu within him. Now where have I seen that before? Some dusty old occult book, no doubt.

    Leo, unable to contain his excitement any longer, spoke up. "Jaxx''im, sorry to interrupt, but we''re eager to test that device."

    "No trouble at all, young sir," Jaxx''im replied. "Please prepare yourselves for the test. You''ll need to give it your all, so I suggest opening your flows beforehand. You can meditate over there." Veridian pointed to a comfortable, soft-looking cushion on the floor, seemingly designed for meditation.

    Leo obediently moved to the corner of the room and settled into a meditative pose, his body enveloped in an aura of Ether.

    "Sir Aren, I advise you to do the same. Proper preparation will increase the accuracy of the measurements."

    "I haven''t even learned to absorb Ether yet," Aren admitted, feeling awkward even saying it, even though he knew that mastering Ether in three days was impossible. "I came here hoping you could help me with that."

    "I understand. Nevertheless, we''ll perform the same test as with Young Master Leo to gather more information for our work with you. Master Darius speaks highly of you, and I will do my best to assist you in any way I can."

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    "Valerian mentioned that you possess a deeper understanding of the nature of Ether. Could you elaborate on what it is?" Aren asked.

    "Certainly. Recent research suggests that Ether is the energy of the universe, present in all matter. It''s dynamic, active, constantly flowing through everything, from stone to man. Those who can manipulate Ether do so through the power of their will, directing the flow as needed. This power allows one to influence matter and energy. Tiers refer to the potential to influence matter and energy. A warrior who can enhance his body with Ether might be on the same tier as a manipulator of matter who can create fire or ice. It all depends on the amount and concentration of Ether. Am I being too complicated?"

    "No, it''s clear so far. What about Ether storms? You mentioned the danger at dinner."

    "Ah, yes. Because Ether is constantly in balance, when someone redirects too much of it for their own purposes, it''s as if nature is angered. This imbalance triggers a backlash in the form of an Ether storm. It''s Ether attempting to fill a void, like an emptied cup. And when a large amount of Ether returns to its place all at once, it provokes changes in matter. Living beings perish, and artifacts are created ¨C matter fundamentally altered by a large amount of Ether. It''s all very chaotic and doesn''t follow strict rules. You''ve probably heard how Ether once destroyed a harvest, causing a terrible famine. That''s one of the worst-case scenarios. After all, the archives record instances where storms didn''t negatively affect the environment but created several powerful artifacts. But the risk of creating a storm by one person starts somewhere around tier 8, so most people don''t need to worry."

    While Jaxx''im was engrossed in his explanation, Leo finished his preparation and approached the table. "I''m ready."

    "Excellent." Jaxx''im pushed aside a couple of open scrolls, revealing a rectangular stone device with runes and symbols etched into it. It was about the size of a palm. Apparently, this was the tier measuring device. "Take this and channel as much Ether into it as you can. If you increase the concentration, it will also reflect on the readings. You need to maintain the maximum flow for 10 seconds," Veridian instructed, handing the device to Leo.

    Leo snatched the tablet eager to try it, examining it from both sides. He closed his eyes, and the aura enveloped his body again. Then, the aura flowed into his hand holding the device, and suddenly, everything was directed into the device itself. The runes and symbols lit up with various colors, shimmering and changing intensity. The device hummed with a low, resonant frequency, and the air around it crackled with energy.

    Jaxx''im managed to start a 10-second hourglass, and when the last grain of sand fell, he announced in his raspy voice, "Stop."

    Leo exhaled heavily and opened his eyes, his face pale and slick with sweat. He stumbled slightly, struggling to catch his breath. It turned out that 10 seconds of maximum Ether flow was no easy feat.

    Jaxx''im took the still-glowing device and began to examine it, turning it over in his hands. "Judging by the color and intensity, we can clearly assume that your level is 2. Your concentration falters, but the speed of your flows is very high. Thanks to this, you can soon reach level 3, without spending years increasing the reserve of your flows, but focusing on speed."

    "Wow! I knew I was level two, but I couldn''t even imagine that I was close to level three!" Leo lost all his stoic control and jumped up and down with joy, raising his hands. "Aren, you try it, maybe the device will say something about you too!"

    Jaxx''im handed the fading tablet to Aren. "Even if you don''t yet know how to absorb Ether, still try, maybe the device will say something interesting."

    Aren took the tablet, full of hope. He waited a moment before it went out and, closing his eyes, did everything according to Valerian''s instructions on Ether control. But he himself felt nothing, and after 10 Jaxx''im gave the signal again. Aren opened his eyes, the unlit device shattered all his hopes.

    "Never mind, Aren, you''ll try again when you learn to direct Ether," Leo comforted him.

    "Hmm¡­" Jaxx''im stared intently over Aren''s shoulder. Veridian took the device from Aren, placed it on the table, and went to the chests with things that he had brought with him. He threw off a couple of books and scrolls lying on top and took out a spherical device that was attached to a short chain. The sphere had a bronze, metallic texture, etched with intricate runes that pulsed with a dark red light. He returned to Aren and Leo standing at the table, whose eyes were fixed on the ball. As he approached, the ball began to pulsate stronger and more often.

    "May I ask you to go to opposite corners of the room?" Jaxx''im said, his speech quickening as if he had entered researcher mode. "I want to make sure of something."

 Chapter 16: The Symbol

    Aren and Leo exchanged glances and, carefully avoiding the scattered scrolls, hurried to opposite corners of the lab as Jaxx''im had instructed. The sphere continued to pulsate, its dark red light throbbing rhythmically. Jaxx''im, positioned between Aren and Leo, hesitated, then moved toward Leo. He approached, paused, and stared intently at the sphere, lost in thought. Then, he turned and walked toward Aren, and as he drew closer, the sphere''s reaction intensified once more.

    "How very intriguing," Jaxx''im began, his voice laced with scientific curiosity. "This is an artifact detection device, and it''s reacting to you, Sir Aren. Do you have something unusual on your person?"

    Aren shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Only this rather expensive doublet the Duke so kindly provided." And a lifetime of bad decisions, he added silently.

    "Take the sphere," Jaxx''im instructed, extending the device toward him.

    Aren took it. The moment his fingers brushed against the cool bronze, the sphere pulsed even more intensely, the runes blazing with crimson light. A low hum resonated from the device, vibrating in Aren''s hand.

    "Sir Aren," Jaxx''im said, his green eyes wide with scientific glee, "I have never seen or heard of anything like this. You appear to be radiating Ether¡­ like an artifact. It''s far too early to draw definitive conclusions, but it''s possible you possess your own internal reservoir of Ether, independent of the ambient Ether around us." He paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Valerian did mention sensing a powerful surge of Ether in your library during the attack on Lady Isla. Perhaps your memory loss, that Ether surge, and the artifact detector''s reaction are all connected." He stepped closer. "Please, come to my laboratory again. I will assist you in discovering what exactly is happening with you. You may visit every day if you wish; this is a most fascinating phenomenon that demands further study."

    Aren''s mind reeled, overloaded with information. This all sounds highly suspicious, he thought, a flicker of unease in his gut. I''ve got a bad feeling about this, even if this Smurf isn''t radiating any hostility. "I appreciate the offer, Jaxx''im. I''ll definitely take you up on that."

    "Am I allowed to come closer now?" Leo called from across the room, his voice tinged with impatience. He hadn''t heard their conversation, and his curiosity was clearly eating away at him.

    "Of course, young sir," Jaxx''im replied, slightly raising his voice. "Sir Aren has found himself in a most interesting situation¡­" Jaxx''im then proceeded to explain to Leo what had happened and his working theory about Aren''s unique condition.

    "Wow, I''ve never heard of anything like that!" Leo exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder. "Aren, maybe you need to channel Ether from the inside, not from the outside?" He offered his suggestion with youthful enthusiasm.

    "Good idea," Aren replied, nodding thoughtfully. "I''ll try that tonight during training." If I can even figure out how to do that.

    With their curiosity satisfied (for the moment), Aren and Leo left the laboratory and headed toward the training grounds. They discussed theories about Ether and Jaxx''im as they walked. Leo was overjoyed by the news of his impending Tier 3 status and couldn''t wait to begin experimenting with the speed of his flows under Valerian''s watchful eye. Aren, on the other hand, felt a renewed sense of hope about mastering Ether, shifting his focus inward, even though his unique situation continued to trouble him. Why did that sphere react so strongly to me? Is it connected to the fact that I''m from Earth? And even if it is, what does that even mean? The questions were piling up faster than he could answer them.

    At the training grounds, they shared the news with Valerian, who approved of their new approaches to training. However, despite his best efforts, Aren was unable to channel Ether, even when trying to find it within himself. Leo also didn''t make any progress in a single day. This slightly dampened their enthusiasm, but Valerian reminded them that nothing worthwhile is achieved quickly. "Patience, young sirs. The path to mastery is long and winding."

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    During dinner, with the now-familiar group gathered around the table, Isla no longer ignored Aren. She exchanged a few words with him, careful not to reveal her plans in front of her family. Aren played along, keeping their conversation a secret. Leo, meanwhile, regaled everyone with the events of their day. Darius expressed his happiness for the young men but couldn''t help but ponder Aren''s situation. He glanced at Aren, a thoughtful expression on his face.

    As the dinner concluded and the group began to disperse, Isla hurried to catch up with Aren as he made his way toward his chambers. Her steps were quick and purposeful, her eyes darting around to ensure they weren''t overheard.

    "Aren," she said, her voice low and urgent, "meet me in the map room tomorrow after lunch. We''re going to the city."

    Aren raised an eyebrow, a flicker of excitement in his chest. "The city? Already?"

    "Yes, I''ve prepared the disguise. I''ll explain everything tomorrow. Just be there," she replied, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. With that, she turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving Aren to ponder in solitude.

    "Going to the city, huh?" he mused as he continued toward his room. "Things are happening a little too quick here; it''s only been three days since I arrived in Atheria."

    Reaching his chambers, Aren practically shed his clothes, tossing them carelessly onto a nearby chair. He then gratefully collapsed onto the plush expanse of his bed. The silk sheets, cool against his skin, were a welcome contrast to the day''s events. He closed his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. Tomorrow, the city. I just hope she doesn''t get herself into too much trouble. A frown creased his brow as he drifted off to sleep, his mind a jumble of bustling streets, potential dangers for Isla, and the unsettling implications of being a walking, talking¡­ artifact.

    <hr>

    A jolt. A sudden, jarring awakening.

    Arthur gasped, his eyes snapping open to the sterile white of a high-tech capsule. Wires snaked around him, sensors clung to his skin, monitoring his vitals. A wave of disorientation washed over him, blurring his senses. Where was he? The castle, the Ether, Isla¡­ it all seemed like a distant dream, a vibrant memory fading at the edges.

    Then, recognition dawned. The Chronos Labs. He was back.

    With a hiss of escaping air, the capsule opened. A figure approached, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the monitors. It was Noah, the lead scientist on the project. His brow was furrowed with concern, his eyes filled with anxiety and anticipation.

    "Arthur, are you alright?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.

    Arthur blinked, trying to clear the lingering fog from his mind. "Yeah, Noah, I''m¡­ I''m okay. Feels like I just went twelve rounds with a heavyweight champ, though. How long was I out?" He flexed his fingers, wincing at the stiffness in his joints. "My whole body aches."

    Noah sighed, a visible weight lifting from his shoulders. "You were in the capsule for three days. Because of your lack of movement, your muscles will need some time to recover optimal function. It''s clearly an oversight in our design; we need to find a way to keep your body active, even when you''re on the other side." He shook his head, a hint of frustration in his voice. "We''ll get it right eventually."

    "Three days¡­" Arthur muttered, his mind still trying to reconcile the two realities. "That''s how long it was in Atheria, too."

    "Atheria? Is that how that world is called? Fascinating!" Noah''s eyes lit up with scientific curiosity, but he quickly reigned himself in. "As much as I''d love to hear all about it, Mr. Albright has ordered that you be sent to him immediately. And the walk will do you good. Ethan, check Mr. Steelhart''s vitals. You two," he gestured to a pair of lab assistants, "escort Mr. Steelhart to Mr. Albright."

    Ethan, a young man with perpetually narrow eyes and a tablet glued to his hand, approached, his gaze fixed on the screen. "Mr. Steelhart, despite your immobility for the past three days, your vitals have actually improved. We connected you to our most advanced nutrient formula, which covers all of the body''s needs and beyond. We''ll immediately begin developing a new version of the capsule that will automatically keep your muscles toned." He paused, glancing up from his tablet. "I need to run a quick scan, just like last time."

    As Ethan raised the scanner to begin the process, the sleeve of his white lab coat shifted, momentarily revealing a glimpse of his wrist. Arthur''s eyes narrowed. There, partially hidden beneath the fabric, was a tattoo. He only caught a glimpse of half of it, but it was undeniably similar to the symbol he had seen on the book in Jaxx''im''s laboratory.

    Okay, that''s not fucking weird.

 Chapter 17: Secrets in Stone

    Arthur''s gaze remained fixed on Ethan as the lab assistant completed the scan. That symbol... it can''t be a coincidence. He filed the information away, knowing he''d need to investigate further. No need to make a fuss now, I better look into it in Atheria.

    "All done, Mr. Steelhart," Ethan announced, his attention already back on his tablet. "You can proceed to Mr. Albright''s office."

    With a nod, Arthur followed the two lab assistants out of the capsule room and into the brightly lit corridors of Chronos Labs. His muscles felt like cotton, a dull ache reminding him of his recent immobility. A knot of unease tightened in his stomach. Too many events, too much information, and that damn symbol... it was all swirling in his head, threatening to overwhelm him. As they walked, however, a strange clarity began to emerge. The sterile white walls of the corridor seemed sharper, the hum of the ventilation system less grating. It was as if his senses were slowly recalibrating, shaking off the fog of the jump. Is it because of that nutrient formula they pumped me full of? What could be in that stuff?

    Upon reaching Victor''s office, the assistants opened the door and ushered Arthur inside. Victor rose from his desk with a warm smile on his face, his imposing figure filling the room. The scent of expensive cigars hung in the air, a familiar comfort.

    "Arthur, finally! Welcome back," Victor boomed, extending a hand. "Come in, come in. Tell me everything! I''m dying to know what happened."

    Arthur shook Victor''s hand firmly, the old man''s grip surprisingly strong. After settling into a chair, Arthur began his account of Atheria. He described receiving the title of nobility, attracting attention, and starting to train with Ether. He recounted the life and customs in the castle, the history, and the political landscape of Atheria. He also mentioned the blue-skinned humanoid Jaxx''im and the artifact detector, but omitted the symbol, wondering if Victor might somehow be connected to it as well. Can''t be too careful, he thought.

    Victor listened intently, his eyes widening with each new revelation. "Artifacts, Ether, matter alteration? They have an entire science built around Ether over there! That''s incredible, Arthur! Absolutely incredible!" He leaned forward, his voice filled with excitement. "Arthur, you have to master this Ether, whatever it takes! If there''s a chance that we can somehow use it on Earth, it would be an even bigger revolution than interdimensional travel itself!"

    Arthur nodded, his brow furrowed. "That''s an interesting theory. I''m deeply invested in understanding its power, so our goals align here."

    Victor steepled his fingers, his expression thoughtful. "You''ve gathered a tremendous amount of information in just three days. Don''t burn yourself out. Continue training and living a peaceful life in Atheria, gradually gathering information. Maybe read something from the castle library."

    Yeah, as soon as I help Isla, I''ll start living a peaceful life.

    Arthur braced himself, knowing what was coming. "How long this time?"

    "One week," Victor stated, his voice firm. "Seven days in Atheria. We need you to learn more about this Ether, Arthur. Understand its properties, its potential. See if it can be harnessed, if it can be... brought back here."

    "Alright, Victor," Arthur said, his voice resolute. "Just tell your guys to hurry up and make a capsule with automatic muscle tone support. I could barely stand after just three days."

    Victor grinned, clapping Arthur on the shoulder. "First thing on the agenda, my friend! Now, get back. You''ll need to get some sleep in that body."

    <hr>

    Back in the capsule, Arthur closed his eyes, focusing on the task ahead. A week... I mustn''t forget who I am. Life there is too good. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. Here we go.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    With a familiar jolt, Arthur''s consciousness was once again transferred to the world of Atheria.

    He awoke with a start, the soft silk sheets of his bed a welcome sensation against his skin. The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through the window. He glanced around, reorienting himself. I''m starting to get used to these jumps, and this body is handling it better.

    He stretched and closed his eyes, forcing himself back to sleep. Tomorrow, the secret trip to the city. Hopefully, if we get caught, Darius won''t kick me out of the castle, although maybe that wouldn''t be so bad.

    <hr>

    The morning sun streamed through the window, rousing Aren from his slumber. He rose, stretched, and donned his training clothes. He hadn''t slept well; the jump had definitely disrupted his deep sleep. Do they have coffee here?

    At breakfast, he asked if they had some kind of invigorating drink, to which Darius handed him a mug of mead. Aren shrugged and didn''t refuse. The sweet, honeyed liquid warmed him from the inside out, chasing away some of the lingering grogginess.

    The training session passed without any breakthroughs. Leo made some progress with his speed flows, his youthful energy practically radiating off him, but Aren remained stuck at square one. The young men were full of enthusiasm after Jaxx''im''s instructions and trained until lunchtime.

    After lunch, Aren headed to the map room, feeling a growing sense of anticipation. He was about to embark on a secret mission with Isla, which would be his first official adventure in this new world.

    Along the way, he tried to act as if nothing was amiss, passing by guards and servants. He reached the map room and saw Isla waiting for him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She was dressed in a simple, unassuming dress, her hair pulled back in a practical braid. The map room itself was a large, circular chamber, dominated by a massive table covered in detailed maps of the surrounding lands.

    "Ready to go to the city?" she asked with a smile on her lips.

    "And where''s your disguise?" Aren asked, leaning against the doorframe.

    Isla pointed to a partially open travel bag with clothes inside. "Our outfits are in here. We''ll change outside the castle."

    Aren raised an eyebrow, surveying the clothes. At first glance, they were rough and ill-fitting, clearly intended for someone of a much lower station. "Just what we need."

    "Alright, let''s review the plan," Isla said, her voice low and serious. "We''ll get out of the castle, avoiding the patrols. I''ve mapped out their schedules, and no one should notice us. If we do run into someone, we are going to pretend I''m just showing you around the castle. It''s so big that no one will look for us until dinner, at least. Once we''re outside the castle, we''ll change into these simple clothes and head to the Adventurers'' Guild, stopping by one of the taverns along the way. You''ll ask about the Black Market, and I''ll cover my face with a hood and a bandage."

    "Not a bad plan, Isla. Keep it up. Maybe you''ll take General Valerian''s place someday," Aren teased, a playful smirk on his face.

    "Let''s go!" Isla said, ignoring his joke.

    They moved through the complex corridors of the castle, entering parts where Aren had never been before. The air was thick with the scent of dust and old stone, and the silence was broken only by the echo of their footsteps. A couple of guards were in the way, but Aren and Isla deftly slipped past unnoticed, their movements practiced and silent. Eventually, they reached the castle wall, which abutted a cliff. Descending a steep ladder, they found themselves in a small room within the wall, where Isla pointed to an inconspicuous door built into the rock. "Here," she whispered. "This is an old secret exit that my grandmother used to escape in search of adventure. It leads directly into the forest, outside the city."

    Aren nodded, a thrill of excitement coursing through him. A secret passage, how interesting. "Help me open it."

    They approached the door and began to undo the bolts. There were three in total, each one heavy and rusted. The metal groaned in protest as they worked, the sound echoing in the small space. Together, they pushed the heavy door open and found themselves in a narrow, dark tunnel. The smell of dampness and mold hit Aren''s nose, making him wrinkle his face. He could feel the cool, clammy air on his skin, and the darkness seemed to press in on him from all sides.

    They walked through the tunnel for quite a while, making many turns. Apparently, it was a labyrinth, designed to prevent strangers on the other side from infiltrating the castle. The walls were rough and uneven, and the floor was littered with loose stones. Finally, they saw a faint light ahead. Isla stopped and listened, her head cocked to one side.

    "Seems clear," she whispered. "Ready?"

    Aren nodded, clenching his fists. Time to show this world what an old geezer from the 22nd century is capable of!

    They pushed the bolts back and shoved the heavy door open, emerging into a dense forest. Sunlight streamed through the foliage, creating bizarre shadows on the ground. The air was fresh and clean, a welcome change from the musty tunnel.

    "Great, we''re out," Isla said, looking around. "Now we need to change."

 Chapter 18: Sacred Animal

    They moved away from the tunnel entrance, stopping near a towering tree. Isla rummaged in the travel bag, pulling out two sets of simple clothes: roughspun shirts, trousers, and cloaks with deep hoods. The garments looked worn and smelled faintly of woodsmoke.

    "I hope those rags don''t rub off all your aristocratic polish," Aren joked, nodding at the bag.

    Isla rolled her eyes, a familiar expression. "Just turn around and get changed, Aren."

    Aren turned his back. Well, this is awkward, he thought. Changing clothes in the woods with a young noblewoman... who would have thought?.. And here come those ridiculous thoughts again. When will this body finally reach an age of tranquility? He sighed inwardly.

    He quickly pulled on the rough shirt and trousers. The fabric was coarse against his skin, a far cry from the soft, expensive materials of his noble attire.

    By the time he finished, Isla was already dressed in her simple clothes. She pulled the hood over her head, effectively concealing her hair and most of her face.

    "Well?" she asked, turning to face Aren. "Do I look like an ordinary townswoman?"

    Aren scrutinized her. In the plain clothes and with the hood obscuring her features, she did resemble a commoner. But Aren still sensed something about her, a certain bearing or grace, that betrayed her noble origins. She carries herself like an aristocrat, even when she''s trying not to.

    "Yeah, that''ll fool ''em," he said. "If they''re blind. Seriously, you look like you''re playing dress-up. Get some grime on you, and try to look less like you''re expecting a royal carriage to arrive any minute."

    Isla frowned, her brow furrowing. Leaning down, she worked dirt into the lines of her palms, coating them in a layer of brown before putting it on her clothes

    "Wait, I was just kidding!" Aren hadn''t expected her to take him seriously, especially since she usually ignored his jokes. I guess she''s really committed to this.

    "Aren! This isn''t the time for jokes!" Isla stood up straight, brushing off her hands, her eyes flashing with indignation. "This is serious, you know."

    "I''m just trying to lighten the mood. Do you even know the way out of this forest?" Aren asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

    "Of course. I used to wander around here all the time when I was a child," she said, her voice muffled by the hood. "I know every path and every tree."

    "Then, ladies first," Aren said, gesturing forward.

    They continued through the dense forest, the trees growing thick and tall, reminiscent of the Amazon jungle, yet distinctly European in their character. Forest life teemed around them: insects, birds, small animals, all unfamiliar to Aren. He followed Isla in silence, observing the natural splendor. Everything seemed so peaceful and serene. Isla walked with purpose, deftly navigating the terrain, turning and avoiding obstacles.

    After about thirty minutes, they emerged into a small clearing, an island of sunlight amidst the dense trees.

    "We''ll cross the clearing, and then it''s just a short distance to the road where the caravans travel," Isla said, catching her breath. Although they had only been walking for a short time, the pace had been brisk, clearly unusual for a noblewoman accustomed to castle life. Aren, on the other hand, felt fine. His training had just begun, but his young body was adapting quickly and was no longer as weak as it had been on his first day. He was even starting to get used to the traditionally heavy objects in the castle.

    They walked across the clearing, the grass reaching their knees, soft and yielding underfoot. It felt as if they were wading through a green sea.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    As they walked, a massive creature emerged from the forest ahead. It stood about 2 meters (6.6 ft) tall on four long, powerful legs. Its body was bear-like in its bulk, but its legs were longer and more agile, ending in sharp, formidable claws. Its fur was a rich, golden wheat color, shimmering with a coppery hue in the sparse sunlight. The creature''s head was more elongated, with a black nose and large, pointed ears that twitched and swiveled with every subtle current of air. But what truly captured Aren¡¯s attention were its eyes¡ªtwo piercing, glowing blue orbs that radiated an almost otherworldly calm and wisdom. The creature moved slowly, its massive frame swaying gently as it walked.

    ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± Aren asked, his voice cracking with a hint of his true age.

    ¡°Relax,¡± Isla said, freezing in place. ¡°That¡¯s an Ursai. They¡¯re peaceful creatures and usually ignore humans. He¡¯s probably just passing through. In our Dominion, they¡¯re considered sacred animals. You¡¯ll even find them on our Dominion''s flag. Let''s wait for him to go on his way.¡±

    Ah, so that''s an Ursai. I remember seeing a painting of one in the castle. I thought they were the size of a dog, but this one''s bigger than a grizzly, Aren thought, his eyes wide.

    The Ursai, despite its slow and deliberate movements, was heading in their direction.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ coming this way,¡± Aren said, standing up and keeping a wary eye on the beast.

    ¡°Hmm, that¡¯s unusual,¡± Isla admitted, though she still didn¡¯t seem particularly concerned. ¡°They¡¯ve never shown interest in humans before. Maybe this one¡¯s just curious. Don¡¯t worry, they don¡¯t eat meat. They¡¯re herbivores.¡±

    If it''s an herbivore, then what are those huge claws for? Aren wondered, a skeptical frown on his face.

    Aren remained cautious. The Ursai, despite its lumbering gait, covered ground quickly thanks to its long legs and massive stride. When it was around 20 meters (65 ft) away, Aren locked eyes with it. The creature¡¯s gaze was calm, almost hypnotic, radiating a soothing aura that seemed to wash over him.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Isla remarked, her voice filled with admiration. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen one this close before. It seems¡­ interested in you.¡±

    The Ursai was approaching, its eyes never leaving Aren. The young man felt a twinge of nervousness, but there was no malice in the creature¡¯s demeanor. It moved with a deliberate grace, its massive frame casting a shadow over Aren as it approached, passing Isla as if she weren''t there. She could only look at him from the side, her eyes sparkled as she watched the creature. Up close, the Ursai was even more imposing than Aren had imagined. Its glowing blue eyes, like twin sapphires, seemed to pierce through him, and its breath came in slow, deep exhales.

    Then, to Aren¡¯s astonishment, the Ursai raised one of its massive, clawed paws and gently placed it on his head. Isla, who had been calm just moments before, tensed up. Aren, however, stood frozen, totally confused. What in the world is going on?

    But the Ursai¡¯s touch was gentle, almost affectionate. It exhaled deeply, a warm rush of air that smelled of pine and berries, before lowering its paw and continuing on its way, lumbering back into the forest, leaving the two humans in stunned silence.

    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ never seen anything like that,¡± Isla said after a long pause, her voice hushed with awe. ¡°An Ursai showing interest in a human? That¡¯s unheard of. It''s like you''re blessed or something."

    Aren didn¡¯t respond immediately. He felt a strange mix of emotions¡ªhumiliation at being ¡°petted¡± by a wild animal, but also a deep sense of awe. The Ursai¡¯s presence had been overwhelming, its aura radiating a strange mix of peace and primal power. It was as if the creature had recognized something in him, something he couldn¡¯t yet understand. I wonder if it''s because I''m like a walking artifact, radiating Ether, if Jaxx''im is to be believed, at least? Or do I smell funny?

    The young people watched the Ursai disappear into the trees and continued on their way.

    "Too bad this all has to be a secret. Kira would be in a good mood for a week just from hearing about how an Ursai petted you," Isla giggled, breaking the silence.

    "I''m glad it''s our secret," Aren replied coldly, still feeling a bit ruffled by the encounter. This world seems to be constantly trying to humiliate me. First this frail body, then the heavy objects in the castle, that ridiculous bird, and now this bear. And it hasn''t even been a week!

    Soon, they emerged from the forest, a new vista opening before them: green fields and rolling hills and open meadows dotted with wildflowers. The wind grew stronger, carrying with it the scents of grass and blooming plants. Aren found himself enjoying the simplicity of the landscape, feeling a sense of peace and connection to nature. It''s moments like these that make me forget about the whole ''Chronos Labs'' thing. Back on Earth, you can''t just live somewhere like this. The fucking bureaucrats with their regulations all designed to keep you crammed into the mega-cities.

    They stood on a small hill, with a well-worn road stretching out below.

    "We need to go that way," Isla said, pointing along the road that curved around the forest. Beyond the forest lay Stormia, but it was hidden from view.

    "Then let''s go," Aren said, his voice laced with a hint of anticipation.

 Chapter 19: Main Street Tavern

    As they ambled along the road leading to the city gates¡ªthe very gates they''d just secretly escaped from¡ªIsla nervously rehearsed their plan. She was visibly anxious, fretting that something might go awry.

    "Remember," she hissed, for what felt like the hundredth time, "subtle. We ask about the Black Market subtly. Got it?"

    "Yeah, yeah, subtle," Aren muttered, his gaze sweeping over the rolling hills. Subtle, my ass. This is like asking for directions to Mordor. "Relax, Isla. You''re going to give yourself an ulcer."

    Three carriages had already passed them by. One driver had even offered them a ride, but Isla had politely declined, wary of being recognized by the merchants, particularly since the city was now so close. How does she manage to be both terrified and eager for adventure at the same time?

    The city gates loomed before them, imposing structures a full three meters (10ft) tall and reinforced with iron bands. On each gate, the emblem of Stormborn was prominently displayed: the head of an Ursai, the very mystical beast they had encountered in the forest. As they approached, the guards halted them. Their armor was slightly different from that of the castle guards, simpler and less ornate.

    "Halt! State your business!" one barked, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. A wagon ahead of them was waved through without a second glance. Guess they''re profiling.

    Isla remained silent, her face hidden beneath the deep cowl of her cloak. Here we go. Aren stepped forward. "Just travelers, looking for honest work."

    The guard scrutinized them, his gaze lingering on Isla''s hooded figure. "Got any weapons?"

    They shook their heads. The guard gestured for them to step aside, and another guard patted them down roughly. Satisfied they were unarmed, the first guard spoke again. "You wield Ether?"

    Again, they shook their heads.

    "Move along, then. And try not to cause any trouble."

    Stepping through the gates, they were greeted by a breathtaking vista. A broad, lengthy avenue paved with beige cobblestones stretched out before them, seemingly all the way to the castle. Riders on horseback, merchants with their carts, and bustling city folk filled the thoroughfare, each going about their business. Low, stone buildings lined both sides of the street, each with a small awning displaying wares for travelers: dried and cured meats, flasks of water, various decoctions and potions, accessories, and clothing. Aren recalled seeing the main market square on the map of Stormia, located further west, confirming that these were merely small-time traders. The combined aromas of food, potions, and the general market air pleasantly filled Aren''s nostrils. It was his first time seeing so many people at once in this world, and it felt less like a medieval realm and more like the bustling heart of a modern Earth city, judging by the activity.

    Merchants hawked their wares, their voices rising above the din of the crowd. The air thrummed with energy, a chaotic symphony of sounds, smells, and sights.

    "Why are you just standing there? Let''s go, we don''t have much time," Isla urged, waving for Aren to follow.

    They proceeded, as planned, towards the nearest tavern, conveniently located on this main street. Along the way, Aren scanned the faces around him, hoping to spot other races besides Veridians, perhaps elves or orcs. However, he saw only ordinary humans. Their clothing was of a higher quality than Aren and Isla''s current attire, indicating the city''s prosperity¡ªit was the Dominion''s capital, after all.

    A short distance later, the roadside stalls thinned out, and they passed several intersections. It seemed the flow of people dispersed throughout the city along these paths, with the concentration of commerce primarily at the entrance and the main market square.

    Isla turned towards one of the buildings. "Here we are, the first tavern." It was a two-story structure, distinct from the others, which were made of stone, because it was constructed from wooden beams. Above the entrance, a sign read "Main Street Tavern" in English, legible to Aren. They clearly didn''t waste any creativity on the name. Besides, can I read this because of some magic related to interdimensional travel, or is it actually English?

    "Just remember the plan," Isla said, her voice tight with anxiety. "Ask about work, listen for rumors, and for gods'' sake, don''t act like you own the place."

    "Alright, just relax. Even with that hood, I can see you''re on edge."

    Aren strode confidently inside, Isla trailing close behind with a sigh. The tavern was both spacious and cramped, packed with people seated at round tables scattered throughout the room. Opposite the entrance was a bar counter spanning the entire length of the building, from wall to wall. It, too, was crowded. Waitresses in wide dresses, with rather generous cleavage, bustled about, carrying large wooden mugs filled with drinks. How they managed to hold so many mugs in each hand was a mystery to Aren. The clientele was diverse, ranging from well-groomed, stately patrons to adventurers clad in leather armor with swords strapped to their backs. There were also plenty of obvious drunkards who had come to indulge in the middle of the day. The aroma was a complex tapestry woven from stale ale, questionable hygiene, and a hint of something vaguely resembling cooked cabbage.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Only a few glances were directed at the newly arrived visitors; most patrons paid them no mind, their attention focused on the waitresses and arm wrestling at one of the tables. Aren and Isla approached the bar, and Aren requested two mugs of mead.

    The man behind the bar, a portly fellow in his fifties with unkempt stubble and messy hair, quickly served their order. Aren suddenly realized he didn''t have a single coin. He shot a look at Isla, hinting that she needed to pay. She hesitated for a moment, then fumbled around and tossed some copper coins onto the counter.

    Great, now all of Stormia will think I''m a gigolo.

    The bartender gave Aren a disapproving look before collecting the coins.

    Okay, I''m probably not going to get any useful information from him now. I should have been more professional.

    Aren and Isla quietly began sipping their mead. Unlikely to be recognized in this crowd, Isla slightly lowered her cowl, though she remained cautious. They eavesdropped on the conversations around them. It was difficult to focus on any single discussion, as the tavern was brimming with noise, everyone chattering as loudly as they could. Mostly, the patrons flirted with the waitresses and complained about their work, fretting about the neighboring Dominions potentially invading and ruining everything.

    Not far from Aren, at the counter, an old man of about 55, slightly intoxicated and clearly a local regular, stared at Aren as if he were some strange zoo exhibit. Aren sensed the gaze and turned to meet his eyes. Their stares locked, a silent exchange of disrespect. The patron had never encountered such a brazen youth. What''s this brat looking at? Both of them thought simultaneously.

    The old man, emboldened by drink and the perceived slight, broke the silence. "Well, boy," he slurred, his voice thick with ale and disdain, "haven''t seen your face ''round here before. You lost, or just stupid?"

    Aren, his own inner old man bristling, took a slow sip of his mead before answering. He kept his voice low and even, a stark contrast to the drunkard''s boisterous tone. "Neither. Just enjoying a drink. Something you seem to be very familiar with." He matched old man''s emphasis.

    The drunkard''s face reddened. "Cheeky pup. Back in my day, youngsters knew their place." He spat, narrowly missing Aren''s boots. "You wouldn''t last a day in the wilds."

    Youngsters huh?

    Isla subtly tugged at Aren''s sleeve, a silent warning, but he shrugged her off. This was escalating faster than he''d anticipated, but his pride wouldn''t let him back down.

    "Is that a challenge?" Aren asked, his voice still deceptively calm, but with a dangerous edge creeping in. "Or just the ramblings of a man who''s seen more tankards than sunsets?"

    The drunkard sputtered, his eyes widening in drunken fury. He pushed himself up from the counter, his movements unsteady. "Why, you little¡­! I''ll teach you some respect!"

    He lunged forward, hand raised to strike, but his inebriated state betrayed him. He stumbled, his fist flailing harmlessly past Aren''s head. Aren easily sidestepped, a smirk playing on his lips.

    "Careful there," Aren said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wouldn''t want you to spill your drink."

    The tavern erupted in cheers, the noise instantly doubling as the crowd fueled the brewing fight. The drunkard roared in frustration, attempting another clumsy attack, but before he could connect, the bartender slammed a heavy mug down on the counter, the sound echoing through the tavern.

    "Alright, that''s enough!" the portly bartender bellowed, his face flushed with anger. He pointed a thick finger at the drunkard. "Berin, you''ve had your fill for today. And probably tomorrow, too. No more drinks for you. Get out!"

    The raucous tavern fell abruptly silent. Berin, momentarily stunned by the bartender''s intervention, glared at Aren one last time, muttering curses under his breath. He then shuffled towards the exit, grumbling and casting resentful glances back at Aren.

    The bartender, still fuming, turned to Aren and Isla. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice gruff but apologetic. "Berin''s a harmless old fool when he''s sober, but a right menace when he''s had a few too many. Try to ignore him."

    "No problem at all," Aren replied, a smug satisfaction settling in his features. Thinking he''d handled that drunkard perfectly, putting the arrogant fool in his place. Isla, however, seemed to shrink further into her hood and cowl, practically burying her face in the fabric.

    "We''re just passing through," he continued, addressing the bartender, "looking to earn a few coins. Any suggestions for a couple of... eager travelers?"

    The bartender wiped down the counter, his gaze thoughtful. "Work, you say? Well, you''ve come to the right place! Stormia''s always got something for those willing to put in the effort. For young folks like yourselves, the Adventurers'' Guild is usually the best bet. Plenty of quests, monster hunts, that sort of thing. As long as you''ve got the stomach for it."

    Aren leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. "The Guild, huh? Heard of it. But... let''s say we''re not afraid of a little, uh... extra risk. Something a bit more... discreet, perhaps? With rewards to match, naturally." He subtly stressed ''not'' and ''discreet''.

    The bartender''s brow furrowed. "Discreet, you say? Hmm..." The bartender pauses, looking around the tavern before continuing in lower voice. "There''s an information broker who sometimes frequents the Adventurers'' Guild. But finding him... and getting him to talk... that''s another matter entirely."

    Aren''s lips twisted into a wry smile. "Right. The Guild. Naturally." He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, more to himself than anyone else, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

    Isla''s shoulders slumped, her earlier enthusiasm visibly deflating. "It was worth a try, I suppose," she mumbled, barely audible above the tavern''s din.

    Aren clapped her on the back, a gesture of reassurance. "Don''t be so down, Isla. A real secret wouldn''t be blurted out to the first person who asked, would it? Let''s finish our drinks and see what this information broker has to offer."

    They finished their mead in silence. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, they stepped back into the bustling street. Isla, despite having consumed only one mug, swayed slightly, her steps a touch uneven. Aren watched her, a sigh escaping his lips.

    This is going to be a long day. I just hope she doesn''t get us both into trouble. The image of Darius''s disapproving face flashed before his eyes, followed by a vision of himself being unceremoniously ejected from the castle. A more pressing question, however, began to nag at him: Just how much trouble am I willing to get into for this girl?

 Chapter 20: Adventurers Guild

    They moved on, leaving the relative openness of the main street for a network of narrow, winding alleys.

    "What was that performance you put on in the tavern? We agreed not to draw attention to ourselves!" Isla said indignantly as they found themselves in an empty alleyway.

    "What? That drunk started it," Aren retorted, waving his hand dismissively.

    "What''s gotten into you? You weren''t like this in the castle. I thought you were a cultured and calm librarian."

    Aren paused, considering her words. She was right; he had been much more reserved in the castle, surrounded by the elite. Well, I''m not going to display an attitude in the home of a Dominion''s Duke, but that drunk in some backwater tavern was asking for it.

    "I''ll be more restrained, alright? Now, let''s not stand around; we don''t have time," Aren assured Isla, though he wasn''t sure he believed himself.

    "Wait, I need to check the map." Isla pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it. It was a hand-copied map of Stormia, lacking in detail but marking key locations and roads.

    "Alright," she began, tracing a winding line with her finger, "we should have turned right back there, but we can get through this alleyway." She abruptly raised her head, as if suddenly certain of the correct path, and, without refolding the map, started walking quickly.

    The noisy sounds of the city faded, replaced by a quieter, more secretive atmosphere. Shadows stretched long and deep, even under the midday sun. The air here was cooler, carrying a mixed scent of stale ale, garbage, and something vaguely... floral? Aren couldn''t quite place it.

    They rarely encountered passersby along the way. Isla lowered her head when she saw patrolling guards, but they were engrossed in their own conversation.

    Laundry hung from windows overhead, a colorful tapestry of everyday life. The cobblestones underfoot were uneven, worn smooth by countless steps over the years. Occasionally, animals darted across their path, clearly this world''s versions of cats and dogs, though subtly different from those on Earth. One of the dogs ran up and sniffed Aren from behind. He turned, grumbling, but then patted the dog. Its fur felt almost like a cat''s, and it continued on its way. Isla smiled at the sight and commented that Aren was a favorite among animals, suggesting he should take up residence in the forest. Aren waved her off again and kept walking.

    After several turns, Isla stopped, pointing to a large, imposing structure looming at the end of the alley. "Here it is," she announced, a hint of triumph in her voice. "The Adventurers'' Guild."

    In contrast to the ornate, almost whimsical architecture of the castle, the Guild was a monument to practicality. It was a massive three-story building constructed of sturdy gray stone, its walls thick and unyielding. Windows were few, and those that existed were small and reinforced with iron bars. The entrance consisted of two heavy wooden doors studded with iron, and above the door was the guild''s symbol: a large bird resembling a harpy or phoenix, holding a compass and a sword. The place felt more like a fortress than a gathering spot.

    Inside, the guildhall was a hive of activity, though noticeably different from the noisy tavern. The main hall was vast, with a high, vaulted ceiling supported by thick stone columns. The air buzzed with a low hum of energy, a palpable sense of purpose, and perhaps a hint of danger. It smelled fresh, as if everything had just been cleaned with a fragrant herbal solution mingled with the sharper smells of sweat-soaked leather and oiled steel. Adventurers of all stripes filled the space. A grizzled warrior, his chainmail glinting dully beneath a worn leather jerkin, meticulously sharpened his broadsword with a whetstone, the rasping sound echoing through the hall. A slender mage, her fingers stained with ink, pored over a complex diagram, tracing the arcane symbols with a quill, her brow furrowed in concentration. A pair of archers, their longbows resting against the wall, meticulously fletched arrows, their movements precise and economical, their eyes constantly scanning the room with a hunter''s alertness.

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    At the far end of the hall, a raised platform served as a reception area. A stern-faced woman with tightly braided gray hair and a formidable gaze sat behind a large wooden desk, scrutinizing everyone who approached.

    Aren and Isla joined the short queue. Isla covered her face as much as possible. When their turn came, Aren stepped forward. "We''re looking for work. Any opportunities for a couple of... resourceful individuals?" He tried to inject the same veiled meaning he had used with the bartender, but the woman''s expression remained unchanged.

    "Look at the board," she replied curtly, jerking her thumb toward a large bulletin board that occupied one wall of the hall. It was covered in a chaotic jumble of parchment scraps, each detailing a different task or request.

    Aren and Isla headed to the board, their eyes scanning the various postings.

    - "Caravan Escort to Oakhaven. Experienced fighters required. Beware of Goblin raiders. Reward: 30 silver. 50 for Ether Wielders."

    - "Herb Gathering: Need 10 sprigs of Moonpetal, found only in the forest haunted by Ether spirits. Reward: 1 gold, plus alchemical supplies."

    - "Search for Ether Artifact on Whitecrown Mountain. Many say they''ve seen an artifact there, but no one has been able to bring it back. They say it disappears when approached. Reward: 10 gold."

    - "Guard Noble''s Manor during his absence. 5 silver coins per night."

    Aren frowned, scanning the announcements. "Goblins, Ether spirits? An artifact? Sounds... charming."

    Isla, however, seemed more intrigued. "What interesting tasks. It''s a shame I''m not an adventurer."

    "Quiet, you''ll give us away."

    "Oops." Isla covered her mouth with both hands.

    "All these tasks seem quite ordinary, no dirty work. Maybe we should ask about the information broker."

    They returned to the secretary.

    "Information costs money, boy. And our broker doesn''t deal with penniless travelers. You''ll find what you''re looking for on the second floor, if you can afford it. But don''t waste his time."

    "The second floor, you say? Much obliged." He strode quickly toward the stairs. Isla barely kept up, nearly losing the cowl covering her face.

    The second floor was quieter than the main hall, the air thick with the scent of incense and old parchment. Several doors lined the long corridor, each marked with different symbols. They stopped before a door adorned with a stylized rolled scroll. Isla whispered, "Just get the information, and please, no more trouble." Aren silently nodded, suppressing a sarcastic retort. He raised his hand and knocked, a sharp, confident rap that echoed in the silent corridor. A moment of silence, then a voice, raspy and world-weary, responded from within: "Enter, if you must."

    The room inside was dimly lit, the only source of light a small window. Shelves overflowing with books, scrolls, and strange devices lined the walls. It resembled Jaxx''im''s laboratory, but much poorer. A man sat behind a desk who looked to be about Aren''s real age, though his face was etched with deep wrinkles, and his eyes held weariness and knowledge. He was dressed in dark, nondescript clothing, and glasses perched precariously on his nose. This was undoubtedly the information broker.

    "I hope you have coins with you, youngsters."

    Aren leaned forward, his voice low. "We''re looking for... more dangerous work, with a reward to match."

    The broker raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And you think I know about such things?"

    "Let''s just say I have a hunch," Aren replied.

    The broker sighed, a long, drawn-out sound. "Alright. I might be able to help you. But my services aren''t free. However," he added, a glint in his eyes, "for 10 gold, and one small favor, I''ll point you in the right direction."

    10 gold? Is that expensive?

    Isla, who had been standing silently beside Aren, finally spoke. "A favor? What kind of favor?"

    The broker pulled a small, intricately carved wooden box from under the table. "Deliver this. To one of my... associates. In the Shadow Quarter. Without opening it, of course. He''ll tell you what you want to know. Gold first."

    Aren exchanged a look with Isla. She stepped forward and placed her entire coin pouch on the table. "That should be enough."

    The information broker took the pouch and opened it, peering inside. He shook it slightly and stashed it under the table. "Good. Here''s the box. Deliver it there." He handed them a parchment with a map of the city and a marked location. It was far from the guild, near the wall on the opposite side of the city. If Aren and Isla wanted to return to the castle before dinner, they would have to hurry.

    Aren took the box, and Isla took the parchment. Penniless, they quickly headed for the exit, silently understanding that they needed to pick up the pace, perhaps even run through the empty streets. As they passed through one of the alleys, Aren felt a shiver run down his spine. He turned sharply, but there was no one around. I have a bad feeling about this.

 Chapter 21: Fury

    Aren and Isla hurried back toward the main street, intending to cross into another part of the city. Every time they found themselves alone in an alley, they broke into a run. Only three hours remained until the dinner at the castle, an event they absolutely had to attend, and the trek back through the forest was no short journey.

    When they finally reached the shadow district, the change was immediately apparent. Stone buildings and cobblestone streets gave way to well-trodden dirt and dilapidated wooden houses. The people were noticeably worse off, their clothes patched and faded, their faces etched with hardship. Now, Isla and Aren''s disguises blended in much better. An oppressive atmosphere hung in the air, devoid of any real activity. The sounds of the city seemed muffled here, replaced by an unsettling silence. A sluggishness permeated the air; even the people moved with a languid, almost reluctant pace. Their eyes narrowed with suspicion as they cast sidelong glances at the hurrying, newly-minted adventurers. Although their mission was unofficial, Aren and Isla had mentally dubbed themselves adventurers ¨C it just felt better that way.

    Aren wondered why such a district existed in the capital at all. The city seems rich and prosperous on the surface, but this place... it''s like a festering wound. He couldn''t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong, but there was no time to dwell on it.

    "We''re here," Isla announced. She stopped in front of a ramshackle hut that looked as though a strong gust of wind could topple it. The wood was already starting to rot, and the roof sagged precariously. She checked the map with the marker several times, her brow furrowed with doubt, hoping she was mistaken.

    "What a dump," Aren muttered, his voice tinged with disdain. He scanned the surroundings, his senses on high alert. "Alright, this place might be dangerous. Follow me and stay close."

    Isla nodded, instantly alert. She adjusted the cowl of her cloak, pulling it further down to obscure her face. Aren slowly approached the door and pressed his ear against it, trying to listen to what was happening inside. He could hear the murmur of two voices, but the words were indistinct, lost in the general decay of the building. He knocked, three sharp raps that seemed to echo in the oppressive silence.

    The voices stopped abruptly, and heavy footsteps approached the door.

    Without opening it, a gruff voice from the other side asked, "Who''s there?"

    "We have a delivery for you from the information broker," Aren replied quickly, keeping his voice neutral.

    The door creaked open, revealing two men in dark, ill-fitting clothing. Their faces were rough and scarred, their eyes cold and calculating. They looked like they hadn''t seen a bath in weeks. Their faces practically screamed, ''We are the bad guys.''

    One of them fixed his gaze on Isla, who was hiding her face. His eyes lingered on her figure with a predatory gleam. Aren didn''t like it one bit. Perverts.

    "Where''s the package?" the one in front asked, his voice a low growl. He was a hulking brute, easily twice Aren''s size, with a thick scar running across his cheek.

    Aren showed the box, holding it out slightly. "Before I hand it over, the information broker said you''d tell me where the black market is."

    The two suspicious men exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. A flicker of something dark and calculating flashed in their eyes.

    "Come in. We''ll discuss it inside," the brute said, stepping back to allow them entry.

    Aren really didn''t like the situation. This feels like walking into a trap. Letting Isla go in with him was dangerous, but leaving her on the street was out of the question. He could feel someone had been following them ever since they left the Adventurers'' Guild, a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. After a moment of thought, he took Isla''s hand, his grip firm and reassuring, and, keeping her behind him, entered the house. One wrong move, and I will fuck them up.

    He closed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the small, cramped space, and moved from a small hallway into the main room. It was clearly an abandoned building, or at least, one that had been long neglected. Dust lay thick on every surface, cobwebs draped from the ceiling, and the smell of mold and rotting wood filled the air. The only furniture in the room was a rickety wooden table, a couple of overturned chairs, and a dusty cabinet pushed against one wall.

    The other man, silent until now, gestured to the table in the center of the room, implying Aren should place the box there. Aren gave him a distrustful look.

    The second man spoke, his voice raspy and unpleasant, like nails on a chalkboard. "We need to see what''s in the box. The information broker has his ways of validating the authenticity of his commissions."

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    Aren relented, though his instincts screamed at him to stay on guard. He let go of Isla''s hand and approached the table, carefully watching the suspicious figures in front of him. He placed the box down and stepped back, putting a distance between himself and the two men.

    The closer of the two men, the brute, picked up the box and opened it, revealing a rolled-up piece of paper tied with a thin string. He untied the string and unrolled the paper, his eyes scanning the contents. A slow, cruel smirk spread across his face.

    "And why would youngsters like you need the black market? Are you in a hurry to die?"

    "We''re risk-takers. We really need the money," Aren answered curtly.

    The man who had read the note glanced at his partner, a silent signal passing between them. He slowly folded the paper and put it back in the box, his movements deliberate and menacing. "Money, huh?" he said, turning his gaze back to Aren. His tone shifted from mocking to menacing, the words dripping with malice. "In this neighborhood, money isn''t easy to come by. And sometimes... it''s easier to take it from others."

    In that very instant, the second man, the one with the raspy voice, without warning, whipped out a knife. The blade glinted in the dim light, and he threw it at Isla, aiming for her heart.

    Aren reacted instinctively, his mind racing, but his body was still slow and weak, hampered by his lack of training. He couldn''t shield Isla completely, but he managed to reach her with one wide stride, fueled by a surge of adrenaline, and yank her by the clothes, pulling her slightly off course.

    The knife plunged into her chest, just below her collarbone.

    Aren held Isla in his arms, his heart pounding in his chest. The girl gasped, her eyes wide with shock and pain. A crimson stain blossomed on her clothes, spreading rapidly with each passing second.

    While Aren was still reeling from the attack, a powerful kick, delivered with brutal force, landed on his head.

    He released the bleeding girl, his vision blurring, and flew backward, crashing into a rickety cabinet against the wall. The cabinet splintered and collapsed under his weight, sending shards of wood and dusty debris raining down upon him. He remained there, dazed and disoriented, buried under the wreckage.

    This should have knocked him out, but the sight of Isla''s blood, the look of terror in her eyes, just before the kick, triggered something deep within him. A flood of memories, long suppressed, surged to the surface. The tragedy in his past life on Earth, the image of his daughter and wife being murdered before his eyes...

    The memory awakened an incredible, blinding rage, a primal fury that had lain dormant for decades.

    While the attackers approached Isla, their eyes gleaming with greed, Aren rose from the wreckage, his movements jerky and unnatural. His eyes glowed dimly yellow, an eerie light that seemed to leave a trail behind them as he moved. With each ragged breath, a vapor-like ethereal aura, crackling with energy, emanated from his mouth. His gaze held no personality, no trace of the gentle librarian he was supposed to be, only pure, absolute fury.

    "What the..." one of the attackers, the brute, began, his eyes widening in disbelief. But before he could finish, Aren was in front of him, his fist already connecting with his body.

    The man reflexively covered himself with an aura of Ether, a shimmering shield of energy, and tried to retreat, but Aren was too fast. He clenched all of his joints, channeling his rage into a single, devastating blow. The floorboards beneath his feet splintered and cracked, and a punch, seemingly without movement, slammed straight into the enemy''s gut.

    The man''s eyes bulged, his face contorted in agony. He flew backward with incredible force, crashing into the opposite wall, spitting out a large amount of blood. He slammed against the wall before sliding to the ground, dazed and broken.

    The second attacker, the one with the raspy voice, realizing the danger, cursed under his breath. He threw another knife, this one charged with Ether, a shimmering energy that crackled around the blade, at Aren, but it was in vain.

    Aren easily dodged the projectile, his movements now fluid and lightning-fast, and, in the next instant, appeared before his opponent. Even more vapor poured from his breath, swirling around him like a shroud. He roared like a wild beast, a guttural sound that echoed through the small room, and began to unleash a series of blows.

    To a casual observer, it might have appeared as if he was blindly beating his enemy, but each strike was deliberate, precise, hitting vulnerable points with deadly accuracy. He aimed for the joints, the pressure points, the vital organs, each blow designed to inflict maximum damage.

    After just three blows, the enemy was ready to fall, but the onslaught pinned him to the wall. Aren continued to hit him even after he lost consciousness, his fists a blur of motion.

    The wall began to crack and crumble under the force of the blows, and the opponent''s body fell into the next room, his legs dangling over the remaining part of the wall.

    Aren stood still, his chest heaving, the vapor still rising from his mouth. The yellow glow in his eyes began to fade, replaced by a flicker of recognition. Consciousness gradually returned, and he realized what had happened ¨C the dark side of his personality had taken over.

    This hadn''t happened in over 20 years; he thought it was long behind him, buried deep within his subconscious. He closed his eyes, his face etched with horror and regret, and began to regulate his breathing, trying to regain control.

    But the process was interrupted by the memory of Isla, bleeding out on the floor.

    He rushed to her side. Her heart was still beating, but her eyes had dimmed, the light fading from them.

    The knife was still sticking out of her chest, the blood pooling around her. A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth.

    Aren had no idea what to do; panic surged through him, threatening to overwhelm him. If this is a fantasy world, maybe they have healing potions or scrolls? Something, anything, to save her.

    He frantically searched the fallen enemies, rummaging through their pockets and pouches, but all he found were two pouches of coins, a few rusty knives, and a strange ring on the hand of the one who had fallen through the wall. It was metallic but transparent blue, seemingly made from an artifact.

    His frantic search was interrupted by a voice from the entrance.

    "Hey, kid, you handled them pretty well," the voice said, laced with amusement.

 Chapter 22: New Debt

    Aren turned, ready to fight again, his body tense, but the man at the entrance, who had already closed the door behind him ¨C something Aren hadn''t even heard ¨C raised his open hands, palms forward, in a clear sign he wasn''t looking for a fight.

    "Easy, I come in peace," the man said, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "I see your friend is in bad shape. What an unfortunate situation. Listen, let''s make a deal. I''ll help her, and you''ll come work for me later. How does that sound?"

    "Can you save her?" Aren asked, his voice hoarse with desperation. He lowered his fighting stance slightly but remained on guard, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

    "Here," the man, dressed in black like the other two, though his clothes were of a higher quality and fit him better, pulled a small vial from his pocket. It was filled with a transparent liquid that shimmered with sparkles, like captured starlight. "Give her this to drink, and she''ll be healed. It''s a new development from the Veridians, water charged with Ether. So, do we have a deal?"

    "Deal," Aren snapped, not bothering to weigh the options. Isla''s life hung in the balance. He had no choice but to trust this stranger.

    The man tossed the vial to Aren. It was tiny, smaller than his palm, literally one gulp. Aren quickly knelt beside Isla and gently poured the liquid into her mouth, carefully lifting her head.

    The moment she swallowed, a faint, shimmering aura enveloped her. The healing magic was working, plain as day.

    "Take the knife out, you idiot!" the man exclaimed.

    Aren had been hesitant to remove the knife, fearing it would only worsen her condition, but now that she was regenerating, he quickly pulled the knife from her chest, trying to be as careful as possible.

    Isla cried out in pain, a sharp, piercing sound that tore at Aren''s heart, but quickly calmed, her face relaxing. Her wound began to heal immediately, the skin knitting back together, the blood receding. Within just five seconds, there was no trace of the wound left, not even a scar.

    Isla''s eyes snapped open, as if waking from a deep sleep, and she coughed up the remaining blood, her chest heaving.

    "Isla, are you okay?" Aren asked, his voice filled with relief. A huge weight lifted from his shoulders.

    "I... I''m fine," Isla said, her voice weak but clear. She was still in shock, her eyes wide and unfocused, but she was alive.

    "I''m Lycas, by the way," the man spoke again, stepping closer. He was a young man, about 35 years old, with dark hair and neatly trimmed stubble. He was slender and of average height, but Aren immediately knew he was very strong, radiating an aura of quiet power. "I don''t know why you kids need the Black Market, but you passed the test with flying colors," a harsh laugh escaped him.

    So, it was a test. That damn information broker sent us to be slaughtered and even took our money, the bastard. Aren filed that information away for later. He had a feeling he''d be paying that broker a visit in the near future.

    Lycas continued, "I''ll give you access and the location of the Black Market. Find me there, and you''ll do a few tasks, as we agreed. I could really use talent like yours. Kid, you knocked out two Tier 2 Enchanters using less Ether than it takes to heat a cup of tea. And those movements! I''ve never seen anything like it!"

    "Get to the point," Aren interrupted, his voice gruff. He wasn''t in the mood for compliments.

    "So grumpy, but as you wish," Lycas said, shrugging. "Here," he held out another rolled-up piece of paper. "The entrance to the Black Market is marked here. When they ask, say the password, ''The moon''s shadow hides the merchant''s hand.'' By the way, you can keep their coins and the ring. It affects your flows, helping you direct Ether where you need it, though only by 10%, but the effect is constant as long as you wear it. Anyway, I have to go. I''ll be waiting for you at the Black Market, and don''t even think about running. Tracking is my profession." With that, Lycas opened the door and left, disappearing into the streets.

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    Aren stared at the parchment in his hand. Damn it, now I owe a debt to some clown.

    He glanced down at Isla, who was still sitting on the floor, her face pale but her eyes clear. "You okay to walk?"

    Isla nodded, though her movements were still shaky. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Aren."

    Aren offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet. He noticed she avoided his gaze, a flicker of unease in her eyes. "We can''t walk around town looking like this." He gestured to Isla''s blood-soaked clothes. "I''ll give you my tunic. I''ll wear one of these goons'' cloaks."

    Isla nodded silently. Aren yanked the cloak off one of the fallen bandits, or whoever it was. Ugh, did this guy even bathe this month?

    After the quick change, they dumped the bloody clothes in the shack and headed back out into the street. Good thing this world doesn''t have DNA tests and a central database. No one will ever know whose blood is on those clothes.

    "Let''s get out of here," Aren said. "We need to get back to the castle before dinner."

    As they left the dilapidated hut, Aren couldn''t shake the feeling that they''d stumbled into something far bigger and more dangerous than they''d imagined. Since these thugs weren''t after Isla specifically, it means their cover hasn''t been blown yet. We can still go back without raising suspicion. The worst is over. And Isla will definitely think twice before running headfirst into danger again, right?

    They walked in silence as the sun began to dip below the horizon. They had a few hours of daylight left. Aren resisted the urge to lecture Isla. He hoped she''d learned her lesson. The fact that he now owed some underworld figure a debt didn''t bother him as much. In fact, he was already itching to check out this Black Market and see what kind of shady deals went down there. He hadn''t even bothered to open the parchment with the market''s location. Getting back to the castle was the priority. Besides, Lycas wouldn''t lie about something like that, not when he expected Aren to pay him back.

    Once they were outside the city gates, Isla suggested they switch to running. She insisted she felt fine. So, they picked up the pace, jogging until they reached the secret entrance to the castle. Aren changed to his regular clothes first, and while waiting for Isla he counted the coins he took from the attackers. It was 50 silver coins and 40 copper. Isla gave away 10 gold ones like it was nothing. I wonder how much exactly it can buy you here?

    They stashed the disguises in a bag hidden between two large rocks. Aren also left the coin pouches, the ring, and Lycas''s map there. He couldn''t risk keeping them in his room. The servants might find them during cleaning and start asking questions. They navigated the maze of tunnels and emerged inside the castle walls. Twenty minutes until dinner. Isla said they both needed to wash off the grime and blood. With that, they hurried to the bathhouses, male and female respectively. There wasn''t time for a proper bath, so Aren just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head, dried himself off, and rushed to the dining hall. Isla and her family were already seated at the table. How did she get here before me?

    "Aren! Where have you been? I couldn''t find you all day! I finally perfected your stance!" Leo boomed, leaping up from the table. His massive frame sent the heavy chair skidding back as if it were made of bamboo.

    "Uh¡­ I got lost in the castle again," Aren mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

    Darius chuckled, nearly choking on his drink. "I''ll have a servant draw up a map. It''s been a while since we''ve had new residents in the castle. We''ve forgotten how confusing it can be."

    Aren took his seat at the table. His hands throbbed from the earlier fight, a dull ache that intensified as he tried to move the heavy chair. He hadn''t noticed it so much on the way back. He fought to keep his face neutral. He suspected he''d broken a few fingers. Isla ate in silence, picking at her food. She clearly had no appetite after her near-death experience. Lady Orianna looked at her daughter with concern, but Isla whispered something reassuring in her ear, and her mother nodded in understanding.

    After dinner, Aren retreated to his room. He collapsed on the bed, his entire body aching. We found the Black Market. Isla''s alive. I''ve got a ring that might help with my ether training, and I even kept the money. All in all, it turned out pretty well. I''ll have to ask Darius if I can go into town alone.

    With those thoughts swirling in his mind, he drifted off to sleep.

 Chapter 23: Ether Breakthrough

    <div>

    Aren''s sleep was restless, haunted by nightmares dredged up from his past. Vivid images of his loved ones being murdered because of his recklessness, the bloody massacre he''d unleashed in revenge ¨C he had buried these memories deep, but yesterday''s events ripped them open, unleashing a torrent of pain and regret.

    He woke before dawn, the early hour offering no solace, only more time to dissect his actions. He sat on the edge of his bed, the soft mattress barely easing his discomfort, and wrestled with guilt over what had happened to Isla. Why did I agree to her foolish scheme? Was it because this new world still feels like some kind of game, or is it my own damn fault for chasing adventure and danger like a moth to a flame? He''d believed this world offered him a second chance, yet he was repeating the same self-destructive patterns that had made his past life a living hell.

    And then there was his alter ego, the dark side that had resurfaced with alarming ease. It wasn''t some separate personality; it was him, the part he refused to acknowledge. Or maybe, he mused, this younger body, flooded with hormones, has weakened my control. It''s easier to be at peace when you''re sixty-five than when you''re twenty. But that was no excuse. He had to accept that he couldn''t rely on his composure in extreme situations and that this world was no game. People with families and friends could die, and he had to embrace his experience and wisdom to navigate this world as if it were his new home.

    A knock on the door interrupted his dark thoughts. The young maid, the same one who had brought him new clothes before, entered with her head slightly bowed. "Excuse me, Sir Aren, I have been instructed to bring you a map of the castle." She held out a small roll of paper.

    "Oh, thank you. Just leave it on the table."

    She placed the roll on the table, gave a quick curtsy, and hurried out of the room.

    This will come in handy. I''m tired of getting lost in here.

    After dressing, he headed for breakfast. The atmosphere was calm and unremarkable; everything appeared normal. Only Isla seemed subdued, still shaken from yesterday''s ordeal. I need to talk to her, see what she''s thinking. I hope she learned something valuable from all this.

    After breakfast, he and Leo went to their morning training session. Aren had planned to introduce new martial arts concepts, but his throbbing hands made it impossible. To avoid suspicion, he instructed Leo to continue practicing the stance while he focused on Ether meditation.

    Leo grumbled, eager to learn new techniques, but Valerian, ever the voice of reason, told him to follow Aren''s instructions.

    Aren began his meditation. He had felt the Ether surge through him during the fight, but unfortunately, he had accessed it subconsciously and couldn''t replicate the experience. Still, there was progress. Before, he had been blindly grasping at something he couldn''t see or feel. Now, he knew what he was looking for, he felt the energy coursing through his body, yet it was like trying to pull an oily rope ¨C elusive and difficult to grip. I really need to get that ring as soon as possible and come up with a good excuse for having it.

    During lunch, Aren asked Darius if he could explore the city. Darius, in his usual booming voice, replied, "Indeed, you''re free to roam as you please! However, be mindful that your arrival has caused quite a stir in Stormia. As a new Stormborn noble, you might attract unwanted attention from those seeking to take advantage of your¡­ unfamiliarity with our ways. Tread carefully; these are uncertain times."

    "Sure, I will be mindful," Aren said, speeding up his eating, eager to retrieve the ring from its hiding place in the forest.

    "Valerian likely has a city map you can borrow. And take this," Darius reached into his pocket, pulled out a pouch, and extracted some silver coins and a single gold coin. "It''s hardly a fortune for a nobleman, but it should cover your necessities in Stormia, excluding, of course, any rare artifacts. Think of it as a small token of appreciation for training Leo."

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Aren accepted the coins, though he felt a pang of guilt. Refusing might seem impolite. It was 1 gold and 20 silver coins, to be exact.

    After lunch, Aren found Isla alone in a corridor. "Isla, I wanted to check on you. Are you alright?"

    Isla avoided eye contact, clutching her arm. "Yeah, I''m alright. You know, I''ve been thinking a lot about what happened. It was a foolish idea to go in unprepared like that."

    Okay, she learned her lesson. What a relief.

    "I''m so sorry that you''re now in debt because of me," she continued. "You saved me once again, and I was useless¡­ Thank you."

    "Don''t thank me. I was reckless for taking you with me to that hut. I''m just glad we''re both okay. Don''t worry about that Lycas guy; I''ll deal with him eventually."

    Isla looked up, a spark of life returning to her eyes. "How did you handle those thugs? When I regained consciousness, Lycas mentioned they were Tier 2 Enhancers."

    So she didn''t see me lose my shit, good. "When they kicked me in the head, something just clicked. I could tap into the Ether for a short burst. That, combined with catching them off guard, gave me the edge."

    "Ether? But you only started training four days ago! That''s incredible!"

    "It was a fluke, a one-time thing. I can''t access it at will yet," Aren admitted.

    "Still, acquiring Ether that quickly is unheard of. I wish I could do the same." Isla paused, lost in thought for a moment. "I want to become stronger too, so I''m never a burden to anyone ever again," she declared, her voice filled with newfound resolve.

    Damn, I was hoping she''d just settle into a peaceful life.

    "You are not going anywhere dangerous, period," Aren said, raising his voice slightly.

    "I''m not! I''ll just join you and Leo during your training sessions. I promise I won''t cause any trouble!" She looked at him hopefully, her spirit revived. She definitely came up with the idea just now.

    "Alright, but this time, promise me you won''t ever do anything reckless," Aren said, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow.

    "I promise! I just don''t want to be useless anymore! I won''t go to the tournament or the Black Market; I just want to be capable of defending myself."

    "Very well, then join us this evening. I''m going to the forest and will be back soon. Don''t worry; I''ll just get that ring and check out the map Lycas gave us."

    "Do you want me to show you the way through the labyrinth? It''s faster that way," Isla offered.

    "No, you stay here. A good walk won''t hurt. Don''t be late for training."

    "If you see that Ursai, tell him I said hi," Isla said with a smile as Aren turned to leave.

    How quickly her mood has changed. That''s good.

    With that, Aren left. He found Valerian and obtained a city map, then retrieved the castle map from his room. He headed straight through the city. The main street ran directly from the castle gates to the outer city wall gates, so he quickly crossed it and entered the forest. He had worried he might get lost, but the memory of their previous trek was still fresh, and he easily found the secret castle entrance. He checked the boulders, relieved to find their stash undisturbed.

    First, he examined the map to the Black Market. He had expected a detailed city map with the entrance marked, but Stormia was only represented as a wall on the left side of the map. The other half depicted the area outside the walls. The marker was on the river behind a hill, which, if the proportions were accurate, would be quite a distance from the city. If I''m going there, I''ll need supplies and a good excuse to be gone for a whole day. Maybe if I could move like Valerian, it would take less time, but I''m just a regular guy so far.

    Then, he took out the ring, examining it closely. It was simple yet beautiful, with no symbols or gems, just a solid ring. It felt like metal to the touch, yet it was translucent with a captivating blue color. He slipped it on, expecting an immediate effect, but nothing happened. Lycas said it helps direct Ether. I should try meditating.

    He sat down on the soft grass. The peaceful atmosphere of the forest was soothing, the sounds and scents a balm to his soul. He tried to access the Ether within him, trying to recapture the feeling he''d experienced during the fight. The anger he had felt was part of that sensation, and it was disrupting his meditative state. He tried to find a peaceful center, but it was like punching a waterfall; the anger kept surging back.

    Frustrated, Aren decided to embrace it, forcing all his traumatic memories to play in his head. That was it. As he became more agitated, he felt the energy pulsating within him, in sync with his heartbeat. All the anger and frustration of his past life intertwined with his very being, coursing through him like fire across scorched earth, consuming all peace. With each surge of this raw emotion, he felt the Ether thrumming within.

    He tried to control it, attempting to time the pulse with an effort to direct it somewhere, but just as Leo strained his muscle during meditation, Aren felt a sharp pain in his solar plexus, throwing him off balance. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach.

    Fuck, that was painful!

    The pain was intense, but he also felt a surge of excitement from the breakthrough. He now knew how to access the Ether, and that made the pain almost pleasant.

    A familiar, cunning voice echoed from the branches of a nearby tree. "That''s quite the progress you''ve made, kid. Good job!"