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Idris POV
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2 Years Later
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The estate courtyard held its breath. Servants and guards bowed like grain before a storm, necks strained under an invisible weight. Not just physical but mental pressure. The kind that stilled thoughts and stole air from your lungs. At its center walked a man, his mahogany hair a crimson river down enchanted robes shimmering in the daylight.
'Mmm, the effects are quite good.'
I almost chuckled out loud. Two years had whisked away in the face of my training. At 18, I now stand at 6'2". A giant in this medieval world. Physical strength was at its peak, but that's not the real grind.
'Very minimal mana drain.'
This silent dominion was my real progress. I finished perfecting my first aura illusion magic.
'Gravitas.' The spell didn't just project authority, it bent their perception. Nobles may see majesty, warriors may see battlefield authority. But all who saw him tensed, leaving a mental imprint: 'This space belongs to him.'
That wasn't my only progress though. Illusion magic is difficult when trying to make the illusion more than just visible. If you want them to feel or smell, it takes more work to get the spell right. This is probably why even though the cost isn't too different, illusion magic isn't all that popular.
'Making people see a dragon? Easy, I've seen so many dragons in videogames. Making them smell its sulfur breath, and feel its heat? Much more difficult.'
Min-maxing with buffs and enchantments is definitely the way to go though. Ranged combat problems have been solved as well. Other than closing the gap with speed buffs, I can use my glaive as a form of catalyst for some spells.
When slashing, I can solidify and propel the displaced air into a wind blade. My favorite is if there's blood on the blade, not only is it more solid than wind but it's much more menacing as well.
A 'Blood Crescent' as Dietrich called it. Thus, it was aptly named so.
I found my rhythm with polearms, subtly making it into art. Due to the long reach and wide sweeps taking out multiple opponents, it's perfect for one-on-one and group combat.
I can go toe-to-toe with that old man Wilfred without enhancements, though I still lose seven out of ten times because he's more experienced.
'Tch. It's like a high level bullying a newbie...'
Hand-to-hand combat is going even better. Since meeting Hakon, he's become my new sparring buddy. Mainly because he's the only one whose physical strength can match mine...
I call it stress testing. The first spar, I took a hit that cracked ribs. Hakon was grinning like an idiot the whole day.
Apparently, that wrestling match sparked a fierce competition to fell Hakon in wrestling, in which he fights several people at once.
I visit the mercenary company often as they are the only ones who aren't scared to be themselves around me.
Turns out, being backed by the Abellons and run by 'The Prince of Steel' is the ultimate marketing tagline. In just these 2 years, we went from 30 mercs to a solid 100 real quick.
Our casualty rate? Zero, zilch, none. Though we do get injuries, all of them have recovered. Superior equipment and veteran warriors make immortal troops.
'The real casualties are the bar tab... Catastrophic.'
The coins flow like golden rivers when you treat it like an idle clicker game. Just constantly reinvesting most of our funds into the company allows for many opportunities, and pristine equipment everywhere.
Saw a merc polish his Abellon-forged breastplate yesterday. Shined like a loot drop.
Zero regrets maintaining gear so much. Image is important and min-maxing gets you on leaderboards.
'My stats are great, but my aesthetic? Immaculate.'
My thoughts dissolved as I halted before the study's oak doors, knocking twice.
My father had summoned me to his study today. I just turned 18, so it's probably something for reaching adulthood.
"Come in."
'Rite of passage event begins?'
As I opened the door and walked in, he sat at his desk, fingers tapping steadily, sunlight catching the silver in his beard. And just like last time, there was no chair in front of the desk.
'I can't tell if it's a power play or if he's just lazy... Not that I care, the couch is better anyways.'
He waited for me to plop myself on the couch like usual. I sunk into the cushions like a deflating balloon, staring at him without a care.
"Now that you've come of age, the Duke expects you at the main estate. Standard for all Abellon children."
I sat there levitating a coin above my palm, making it orbit around my fingertips. My father had grown used to my 'roleplaying,' so I just treat him like a vendor NPC without a care in the world.
"The 'Ducal Debut' quest? Took 'em long enough. What's the reward? Political favor? Shiny title?"
He began to pinch the bridge of his nose, letting out a tired sigh.
"This isn't one of your games, Idris. Tradition isn't a quest, it's survival."
He stared me dead in the eye, not a hint of emotion on his face.
"The Abellon court eats ambition raw. The duke acknowledges your ventures, make use of it."
I snorted.
"Ventures? My company's turning profits you didn't even predict. I'm just reinvesting all of it because I have no need for coin."
He slammed a hand on the desk. Dust vibrated in the room from the displaced air.
"This isn't about coin! Your cousin Fiora-"
"-The gremlin? I've heard rumors about her."
I chuckled, putting the coin away since he seemed to be getting annoyed.
"Fiora shattered a baron's nose on his dinner plate last week. The duke laughed."
I laughed again.
"Chaotic neutral or evil?"
"Fiora is unpredictable, yes, but don't underestimate her influence. She's the Duke's favorite because she reminds him of his late wife."
He leaned forward, staring me down to add weight to his words.
"If she takes interest in you, she'll drag you into her chaos."
"Haha. Sounds like my kind of NPC."
"And she's the least troublesome heir. Tristan is arrogant. If he targets you, he'll openly oppress you, showing his hostility for all to see. You may be able to get along, though, since all he seems to care about is military."
'A simpleton? If he's not aggro, I might be able to make him into a captain.'
"He got a scar on his cheek from his first duel. He let his opponent draw blood so they would become overconfident. Needless to say, he won."
I finally sat up, intrigued.
"Quite ballsy, I must admit."
"And the other will scout your weaknesses like a hawk, always engaged in intrigue. Though I've heard he's out of state right now."
I rolled my eyes at my father's seriousness.
"So a gremlin, a back-stabber, and an arrogant one... Standard noble stuff. Anything actually new?"
My father stared, bewildered by my casual demeanor.
"...You truly aren't afraid?"
"Ha! Let them come. I guarantee my stats are better. Early game mobs can't do much."
My father just sat there. Though he had never heard those words before, he could get the general idea that I looked down on them.
"The duke will test you, no doubt. Probably through Fiora. Last time, he made a branch member babysit her during his visit. The boy came back disheveled and paranoid."
He pushed a dossier across the desk.
"Read this tonight. Every heir, every alliance, and their strengths and weaknesses."
I stood up and stretched my arms.
"Perfect. I'll take Wilfred and two riders. Light carriage, no need for processions."
His jaw dropped, flailing his hand through the air.
"Absolutely not! The mountain passes swarm with raiders after winter. Twenty guards minimum!"
I laughed hard, not caring for his opinion.
"Twenty? That'll turn a two-day trip into four."
I grabbed the dossier and turned to leave.
"Stamina and Speed buffs on the horses, enhanced focus for the coachman. We'll make it before sundown tomorrow."
My father frowned.
"Magic can't solve everything! What if-"
I waved my hand at him to stop.
"What if's are for noobs."
I swung the door open, glancing back at him with a grin.
"Relax, I'll bring you a souvenir! Maybe some wine, or that baron's broken plate. Hehe."
His choked protest faded as I closed the door.
"The carriage leaves at dawn! Try not to cause trouble."
As I walked through the hall, the dossier burned to ash in my hands.
'Study these low levels? Where's the fun in that? They're not raid bosses.'
A mischievous smile filled my face as I clapped the ash off my hands.
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Dawn painted the sky a light blue as I approached the carriage at the courtyard gate.
In the early morning, the courtyard was relatively empty. It was just Wilfred, two stone-faced veterans, and a carriage adorned in noble decor and an Abellon crest.
Wilfred eyed the carriage before glancing at me.
"Expecting bandits to politely wave us through?"
"Ha! It's just efficient travel. The bandits couldn't stop us if they tried."
I patted the horses while layering spells on them. They briefly glowed in different colors before returning to normal.
"Tireless, Speed, Calm, Strength."
I pointed at the two guards, one of whom would be the coachman.
'Meh, they don't need much. But just to counter the increased speed-'
"Focus."
As I opened the door to the carriage, I pressed my palm to the floorboards. A golden light rippled throughout as I cast my final spell.
"Lighten."
Wilfred followed me into the carriage as we sat on opposite sides of the cushioned seats.
"Isn't this a bit overkill?"
I grinned like a child.
"Hehe! I hope you're ready for the fastest ride of your life! We're getting there before nightfall, no stops."
Clearly, he was shocked, not having seen the extent of my magic in quite some time. But just as he was about to speak, we started moving.
The world became a watercolor smear. Wind loudly swooshing past as nature melted into green streaks.
The veterans outside, though mentally enhanced by my spell, were not used to this speed. We were practically driving a car at this point.
"By gods! Are we flying?!"
"Haha! Have fun- Hey, watch the road!"
We blurred past a merchant's cart. One of their food crates exploded in our wake like fireworks. I almost started crying with how hard I was laughing while Wilfred sweated bullets.
By noon, we hit the mountain pass.
Light brown smudges appeared at the tree line in the distance.
"Sir! There are brigands ahead! ...I think."
Wilfred frowned as he poked his head out the carriage door, his knuckles whitening from his tight grip on the frame, trying not to fall out. He ordered the guards after confirming the company ahead.
"Slow down before you kill us!"
I laughed at his worries. Clearly, he was still underestimating me. I began to cast illusion magic while countering Wilfred's orders.
"Nonsense! Keep going at full speed! They won't even touch us!"
The carriage hurtled towards the bandit ambush point like a runaway comet. I focused, mana flowing smooth and cold through my channels.
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Bandit POV
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The bandit captain sat perched atop a large boulder with a crude smile. Below, his dozen men crouched behind boulders, crude blades and nocked bows glinting dully. A fat merchant cart or a noble's lightly guarded carriage was approaching them.
'Looks like we're drinking tonight!'
"Remember, lads! No fancy tricks! Just hit hard, fast, and-"
A shrill cry cut him off as the men at the front started shuffling.
"CAPTAIN! The carriage! It's coming in way too fast!"
He squinted. A large trail of dust was kicked up along the road like a serpent of dirt. At the front, a smear of dark wood and gilded trim was heading towards them faster than any horse had a right to run.
"What the fuck is that?"
A sense of unease crawled up his spine. This wasn't right, no carriage moved that fast. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
He raised his arm to signal the attack. But a shadow fell upon the entire area. There wasn't anything they could see that would cast such a large shadow.
One moment the sun was bright, the next, an enormous darkness swept over them, sending chills through all their spines.
A bone-shaking roar ripped through the air, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. It wasn't the roar of any beast they'd seen before. It felt much larger, hungrier, and primal.
As the men looked to the sky, terror seized every fiber of their being. Men ducked, whimpering, pressing themselves into the rock as if it could save them. A huge scaly creature flew overhead, its scales glistened in the sun.
"DRAGON!"
The carefully laid ambush dissolved into pure chaos. Men tripped over each other, stampeding into the forest away from the road. The captain tossed any dignity away, throwing his men aside as he ran. Coin meant nothing if you were dragon food.
The blurry carriage blasted through the pass unimpeded. It never slowed at all, as if unfazed by the events unfolding. It was just a streak of dark with a gust of wind, gone as quickly as it came, leaving only dust and a dozen terrified bandits pissing themselves in the woods.
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Idris POV
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I let the illusions dissolve as we cleared the pass, the oppressive dread and phantom sounds evaporating like smoke.
My shoulders trembled before my laugh broke out with tears. Wilfred stared at me, his face slightly pale.
"Oh my god that was amazing. Definitely worth the MP usage! HA!"
"You... you did that?"
I wiped the tears from my eyes, regaining my composure.
"I told you they won't touch us! That was priceless!"
Wilfred just shook his head slowly, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Madman" under his breath. He rested his head against the carriage wall, resignation all over his face. The veteran guards outside, their enhanced focus suppressed their panic as they simply exchanged a look.
The enchanted horses ran for miles. The snowy peaks softened into rolling foothills covered in deep green pine forests. Charming villages of sturdy timber and grey stone, roofs steeply pitched against mountain winters, clung to the slopes.
As the afternoon sun began its descent, painting the western sky orange, the land dipped into a broad valley. And there, nestled against the base of the mightiest peak in the range, sprawled the duchy capital.
"We've arrived at the duchy capital, Sir!"
Our unnatural speed finally eased as we hit the valley floor and joined the main road leading to the city's massive main gate.
At the gate, a cluster of guards manned the checkpoint, their postures relaxed but watchful as they inspected the queue.
One of the older guards noticed us skipping the line. His eyes narrowed, then widened almost comically. He stiffened like a rod before shouting something we couldn't hear.
Instantly, the casual atmosphere shattered. The yawning guards snapped upright. The chatting stopped. They obviously noticed the duchy crest on the carriage as the entire unit locked onto our approaching vehicle.
Our carriage rolled to a smooth halt before the gate. The captain stepped forward with practiced formality.
Wilfred stepped out first, his imposing figure scanning the guards with a veteran's assessing gaze.
'Time to make an entrance worth remembering.'
I activated "Gravitas." An invisible weight settled over the immediate vicinity, stiffening shoulders and silencing the last murmurs.
I stepped out from the carriage, my boot kicking up a small plume of dust. Stretching to my full 6'2" height, the setting sun highlighting my dark red hair like a beacon against the backdrop.
The captain's eyes snapped from Wilfred to me, locking onto the hair. He snapped a salute with perfect posture, his fist striking his polished breastplate before turning his attention back to Wilfred.
Very few words were said before we entered the city. A slow, anticipatory grin spread across my face. The sudden shift, the weight of expectation, the looming fortress on the hill above the smoky city – and as we crossed the threshold into the lion's den, I looked at Wilfred.
"It seems the tutorial's finally over. Time for the main campaign."
Wilfred stared back, his brow furrowed in complete confusion. For once, he had absolutely no clue what I was talking about, and it was written plain across his weathered face.