Four Winding Months

Four months had passed since Ayato made his decision.

The midday sky was bright with only a few clouds. The hustle and bustle of the Lanteracian capital, Velmorra, could never be compared to a small city like Lunareth.

Grand buildings towered in every direction, proclaiming the glory of the Lanteracian Kingdom—chief among them, Gramore Palace.

Inside a room at the central Knights’ office, the commander wore a puzzled look.

Wumm… wumm…

A magic device pulsed with blue light as it tried to connect. Zriing.

“What is it? You don’t usually contact me with this thing.”

“Yeah. I wanted your thoughts on something, Lys.”

“My thoughts? What for?”

“Well, it’s…”

Four months after recruiting Ayato into her personal special unit, Aurellia had been forced to admit his performance was outstanding—too outstanding.

Her tour hadn’t even ended, yet she’d already sent Ayato ahead to get used to life in the capital, with a standing appointment to spar once a month on grasslands southwest of the city.

Using a teleport stone, Aurellia made those monthly spars without fail. She taught Ayato many things about combat technique, but the most intensive training was on mana—controlling and channeling it.

“...and he has a… peculiarity when it comes to mana.”

“Oh? What kind?”

“As you know, that communication device you designed still isn’t mana-efficient; only people with large reserves can use it.”

“Yeah, we’re working on it. But you know how it is—too many projects, not enough me.”

“That’s the strange part, Lys. Vin wields the device, yet shows no trace of mana depletion.”

“Heeh… so his capacity is actually pretty big.”

“That’s what you’d assume, right? But he does suffer mana depletion the moment he uses even a small amount of ice magic.”

“Haaah? What’s with that? Seriously?”

“Yes. It surprised me too. So I decided to temper his mana—have him use ice magic regularly so the dehydration symptoms will lessen.”

“Good, good. Sensible plan. So… the problem’s solved?”

“Actually, that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“The problem is…”

Aurellia replayed, in her mind, the trip where she escorted Ayato to the capital.

“I’m very pleased you chose to join me, Vin.”

“And I’m grateful for the advance pay you gave me. Thanks to that, I could take care of my needs.”

“...”

Thud!

The carriage jolted over stones in the road.

Aurellia rested her cheek against one hand, elbow propped on the cushioned armrest.

“Vin, as your new superior, I’ll give you my first order!”

“Understood!”

Ayato snapped into the mode he’d used as a personal guard.

“Outside of formal events or crowds, I want you to stop being so formal with me.”

“Under—Eh?”

The first order was absurd enough to make him blink.

“I want you to get used to seeing me as your equal. I’m confident that’ll speed up your growth.”

“I—I see… if that’s what you want.”

“I knew I’d like that about you—good self-awareness.”

“Kraise-sama…”

“Second order!”

“Yes!”

“Just call me Aurellia. Of course, only in informal situations.”

“Okay… Aurellia.”

“Fumu. At this rate, you won’t take long to stand as my equal.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“All right, to further motivate you—if you perform well in the capital, I’ll give you a special reward.”

“A reward?”

“Yes. You’ll find out when it’s time.”

Lys fell silent as Aurellia finished her brief recollection.

“So now you’re the one in a bind because he surpassed your expectations?”

“…That’s right.”

“My, my. That’s what you get for making promises on a whim.”

“But who could’ve guessed that in just four months he’d become a well-known figure in the capital, build his own informant network in the slums, and identify two ghouls…?”

“W—Wow… didn’t think you’d score such a talented subordinate. If you’ve got any spares, send one my way.”

“Enough jokes—back on topic.”

“Honestly, asking me is pointless; I don’t even know the guy. Why not ask him directly?”

“Ask… him directly, huh.”

“Yeah. Better than planning some ‘surprise’ that doesn’t match his taste.”

“You’re right. Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime.”

Shuut. The device dimmed back to a deep, dusky blue.

Aurellia sat for a moment, mulling over Lys’s suggestion.

Still uncertain, she contacted two other close colleagues—and got the same advice.

…

Daylight in Mavish was bright; a cool breeze wandered the streets. In a small bar near the west gate, frosted glasses clinked, stools creaked, and low talk mingled with the warm scent of malt.

Clink. Ayato took a small sip.

“…Bitter. I guess drinks like this aren’t for me.”

He glanced out the window, his head crowded with numbers—reports, the status of his subordinates, rent, sparring, and more. And lately, another oddity had crept in since arriving in the capital.

Strange dreams… he’d been dreaming of standing in a classroom, adults around him.

A woman was yelling at an old man, fury twisting her voice. Even though their faces were in shadow, Ayato felt a faint connection to the woman.

His gaze slid to a smiling man with glaringly white teeth.

That face was also hazy, but the man’s eyes were seared into Ayato’s mind.

That look… I hate it…

A condescending stare—as if whoever he faced was beneath him. Every time Ayato remembered that expression, something dark roiled in his chest.

He shook his head, trying to scatter the images.

No point overthinking it now. Besides, I’ve got a spar coming up.

His monthly spar with Aurellia—Dalgona Grasslands, south of the city. One of the benefits of being under her wing.

Though he hadn’t been officially enlisted, Ayato had to deliver monthly reports directly to Aurellia: intel from the slums—any signs of ghouls, undead, or vampires—and his own combat progress, all evaluated by her in person.

In these short four months, he had already assembled an intel network far larger and sturdier than the one he’d built in Lunareth.

Even when recruited the same way, the talent pool in a big city and a small one were worlds apart. Many of his informants were no longer just children but capable teens—restaurant staff, adventurers, even a few shop owners—expanding his reach from the slums to the mid-district.

It helped that he had more funds now: a monthly stipend from Aurellia, side jobs as an adventurer, and profits from selling maps. All of it fueled his burgeoning web.

Unexpectedly, his cartography had earned high regard from adventurers and guild officials. People griped about his ugly handwriting, but his site drawings were so detailed they reduced casualties wherever they were used.

Thanks to that unique skill, Ayato had earned a nickname—

“Oi, Map Maker!”

He turned slightly. A hooded man waved, grinning.

“Ah, thought so! Your dry-route map—brilliant! Without it, my caravan would’ve sunk in the muck.”

Heads turned toward Ayato the moment the title was shouted. Instead of pleased, he looked mildly annoyed.

“Here’s my tab.”

He left coins on the bar, then paused by the hooded man.

“Don’t shout my name in public again… understood?”

“Y—Yes… s-sorry…”

The man shrank under Ayato’s brief, sharp look. Ayato exhaled and stepped outside. His eyes went unfocused as he lowered his head.

Those dreams… they feel familiar. Are they my memories? If so… then maybe this world was never mine to begin with?

Months had passed since Ayato first came to in this world.

At first he hadn’t had the luxury to dwell on it—survival came first. But now that he had time, he wavered.

“Is this world… really a fit for me?”

Bits of a modern life he once lived crept back into his bones. He still didn’t know why, but the strangeness was becoming undeniable.

They even stirred a homesickness he’d never known before.

“I guess… I need to look deeper into that rumor.”

The Land of Knowledge. If this isn’t where I’m meant to be… maybe that place holds the answer I want…

He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

“It’s about time.”

…

The Dalgona Grasslands rippled and hissed. Swoosh… swoosh… Wind carried the whispers of tall blades.

Aurellia stood poised. Her silver ponytail drifted, her light gear suited for a duel. The wooden sword in her hand—smooth, every tiny nick a record of their bouts. Her gaze was steady.

“You’re on time.”

“I hate making you wait.”

“Begin.”

Ayato drew a deep breath. His fingers tapped the windstone on his belt—Crack!—a blast hurled him across on a diagonal. Firestone—Pop!—a red flicker forced Aurellia half a step aside. Earthstone—Tuk!—grass hardened into a stepping-stone; he sprang low, body canted. Waterstone—Shah!—a thin mist wrapped him, smudging his line of attack.

Clang! Clang! Wooden swords struck. His hands trembled—body-strengthening mana flowed into muscle, still rough, but more obedient than last month. Thwack! His blows were heavy—but too easily deflected.

Aurellia twisted her wrist. Krek. Ayato’s sword jarred wide, his momentum bleeding away.

“Sharper,” she noted, voice even, eyes never leaving him

Ayato gritted his teeth. Cold spread from within. Ice. The blade’s surface paled, faintly glossy. His breath turned to mist.

Focus.

Aurellia’s smile thinned. “Show me.”

SWISH! He feinted low, then stabbed straight on. The wooden edge, sheeted in rime—Slish!—nearly carved her shoulder.

Aurellia stepped onto a line of thin fire she’d conjured, light as if walking a glass path. Wind stroked her movement; each turn of her wrist stole his angles. Two steps… three…

Dheg! Ayato lost footing. Whud! He collapsed to a half-kneel, a wooden edge biting into his palm.

Now!

He snapped the last of his chill into his fingertips. Piw!

A pin-sized ice bullet zipped through the mist with a silver wink.

—Tic! A nick on Aurellia’s cheek.

Silence. Even the grass seemed to hold its breath.

Chest heaving, Ayato stared.

Did I…?

The sword tip was hairline-cracked, its end sugar-dusted with frost. His breath was heavy—but he didn’t dare blink.

Aurel froze for a fraction.

He aimed a pellet that small?

Her cheek stung; something warm traced down. She touched it, saw a faint red smear on her fingertip.

A small smile pulled at her lips—this time with a rare spark of surprise.

“Good. That’s enough for today.”

Ayato blinked; his shoulders slackened.

“To Mavish. Let’s eat,” Aurellia said, lowering her training sword.

“…All right.”

The wind resumed. Swoosh… swoosh… But all Ayato could hear now was his own heartbeat.

…

A cozy inn. Soup steamed; bread soaked. Curtains muffled the night breeze.

“All right—your monthly report?”

“Sure. Starting with the Order: some knights in the southern district are still sucking up to allegedly corrupt nobles. They’ve also been leaning on small traders in the mid-district—jacking up stall rents and seizing businesses if payments lapse.”

“Typical parasites. Cut one down, two more crawl out.”

“Agreed. A number of them have also hired thugs to abduct kids in the slums. Looks like they’re sold as slaves in other cities. My team and I disrupted several attempts.”

“I see. Good work. And vampires or ghouls?”

“None this month.”

Aurellia nodded, satisfied with his performance.

“All right, Vin. Tomorrow, meet me at headquarters.”

“Eh?”

He stiffened. He knew he wasn’t officially on the rolls—he was a shadow asset.

A formal summons to the Knights’ office could mean anything. Official enlistment? Relationship acknowledged? Interrogation? Or a covert arrest.

He braced for the worst; lowering his guard wasn’t an option.

Catching his expression, Aurellia looked quietly amused by the deduction written on his face.

“Relax. I’m not about to put you in danger. And it wouldn’t hurt to visit the Order’s office now and then. Who knows—might be your next workplace.”

“To be honest, I’m comfortable with the way things are.”

“That’s fine. I’m just hypothesizing. Whatever the outcome, I’ll see you’re safe.”

Safe, huh… If she meant to kill me, she wouldn’t go about it roundabout like this. Goodness, why do I keep forgetting that? Maybe stress—from watching too many angles at once. Still… that doesn’t mean I can be careless tomorrow.

“All right. When should I come?”

“Morning.”

“Okay.”

Aurellia’s smile tugged a little wider. “Don’t be late.”