One Month Later
Three men rode at a steady pace beneath the pale winter[1] sun.
The air was cool but pleasant, the kind of midday that carried just enough warmth to keep the chill from settling into the bones. Their horses moved along one of the great imperial roads—constructed nearly three centuries ago under the Surya Empire.
Even now, the craftsmanship held.
The road was wide enough for six horses to ride abreast. Its surface slanted gently outward, allowing rainwater to drain off instead of pooling. Massive stone blocks formed the top layer, and beneath them—down nearly six feet—lay sand, crushed stone, and compacted earth layered with deliberate engineering.
It was simple. Functional. Efficient.
And showing its age.
Cracks had begun to form in places. The edges bore the scars of overuse. Expansion was overdue.
"Hey, Naga," the man riding in the center called out.
Rajkumar Hamsa—though presently not a prince.
"How long until we reach the next town?"
"We'll make it before sunset," Naga replied without turning. "At the latest."
"Good," Hamsa said. "We stop as planned. Move again tomorrow."
"Understood."
Finally.
We're close to where that thing told me to go.
Though convincing them to let me travel here—mostly unescorted—was a nightmare. Meetings. Arguments. Strategic objections. Emotional objections. Mother's objections were the hardest to deal with.
In the end, I was allowed to come.
With conditions of course.
Two elite guards.
One intelligence agent.
Undercover identities.
My current name is Bala.
And officially, I'm bedridden in the palace—recovering from mana exhaustion.
Before leaving, I secured Gopal's loyalty the same way I did with Garuda.
Less dramatic an not fainting this time.
By the end of it some of them dropped to their knees when I strengthened their mana circuits. Tears. Awe. Devotion.
They practically see me as divine now. It's… unsettling.
Though useful.
Now the instructions I left behind were simple on paper, complicated in execution: establish subsidiary orphanages in territories influenced by houses aligned with mine.
Publicly? They're legitimate orphanages.
Privately? Recruitment grounds.
Loyalty built young is practically rock solid.
I don't need to spell out the rest.
As Hamsa had these thoughts they were interrupted.
"Bala," one of the men called.
Hamsa turned slightly. "Yeah?"
"There's movement northwest of our current position," Kiran said. "Something's off."
"Let me check."
Before this trip, my training intensified.
Swordsmanship? I can hold my own against a Royal Guard now.
Mana usage? That's… different.
Modern analytical thinking and knowledge combined with the best teachings of this world gives me an edge most people don't even conceptualize.
Now onto what I am doing.
What I'm about to do is basically radar.
I release controlled waves of mana outward. When they interact with something, the feedback tells me what's there.
1.If absorbed → likely certain plants or insects evolved to metabolize mana.
2.If repelled → animals capable of mana usage, or defensive flora.
3.If disrupted → normal terrain, trees, rocks, mundane wildlife.
4.If it passes through almost cleanly → empty space… or someone extremely skilled at concealment.
Which is never comforting.
On a side not. People of this world can also do this but not to the same range or accuracy I can.
Hamsa extended his perception.
The feedback came in waves.
"There are animals moving from near the Mana Dead Zone," he said aloud. "Most likely in the forest west of the town."
"Then the town or local units will handle it," the man in dark robes replied immediately, cutting him off before he could continue. "We do not interfere."
The others wore worn civilian clothing—nothing that stood out. Only the robed man carried himself with the quiet authority of someone accustomed to command.
"We're undercover," he continued firmly. "And if something happens to you, Bala… you know what follows."
Yes.
Political disaster.
Mother's wrath.
Hamsa nodded slowly.
"You're right. But if it escalates beyond what they can manage, we step in."
He looked at each of them. "Agreed?"
They nodded.
"Good. Let's move."
The horses we are riding were standard cavalry stock.
Nothing exceptional. Durable. Affordable. Replaceable.
We could push them faster by reinforcing them with mana.
But that's not sustainable.
Overexert them and we're stranded for a week.
That is… if we were normal travelers.
But we're not.
Because I exist.
Basically HEALING MAGIC.
Healing magic—if you can even call it that—is just accelerated biology.
As I found out years ago, Mana behaves like energy.
In medicine, that energy can be directed to stimulate cell growth, repair tissue, stabilize systems.
Regrowing a limb?
Possible.
But not instant.
You accelerate cell division carefully, over days or weeks, guiding structure as it reforms.
It requires precision.
Flooding mana into a wound blindly won't heal it. It might even worsen it.
On to diseases.
Mana cannot cure disease outright.
For that, you need medicine.
Infuse medicine with mana though? That accelerates healing.
Mana-based diseases? Those require direct intervention.
Temples of a certain size always have trained healers. Usually gifted locals trained up, or state-funded specialists in strategic regions.
Basic injuries and diseases are manageable even at the village level.
Which is one of the reasons I both love and resent this world.
But that's a discussion for another day.
By the time Hamsa's thoughts settled, the town came into view earlier than expected.
Low stone walls.
Timber houses. With a few stone ones near the center.
Smoke rising in thin trails from chimneys.
They entered quietly.
First stop—the local temple.
Pay respects.
Then the inn.
They secured two modest rooms, stable space for the horses, and a simple meal.
Night would be for planning.
Because tomorrow—
They would move toward the Mana Dead Zone.
And whatever had decided to invite him there.
-----------------------
Next Day — Early Morning
As the first rays of sunlight spilled across the town, the four men rose at once. They intended to depart as early as possible, making full use of the daylight ahead. This would be the last sizable town before their destination, so they gathered downstairs to review supplies and secure rations for the remainder of the journey.
They had expected the morning to be calm.
It wasn't.
"Is it just me," one of the men muttered quietly, "or is there more movement than usual?"
"You're right," Hamsa replied, eyes scanning the street through the open doorway.
There was tension in the air—subtle, but present. Too many guards walking briskly. Some townsfolk speaking in hushed clusters.
After a brief silence, Hamsa turned to the group.
"Let's gather information first. The three of us will ask around. You," he said, looking at the robed man, "do advanced reconnaissance."
"Very well," the robed man replied reluctantly. "But if it turns out to be manageable, we leave immediately."
They split up.
About an hour later, they regrouped at the inn. By then, the town was fully awake. Merchants were opening shops, laborers heading to work. At the center, the temple courtyard bustled—priests performing morning rites, villagers offering prayers with an undercurrent of unease.
"So," Hamsa began, "from what I heard, the animals in the forest are rampaging—but the guards claim it's under control. Though looking at things I highly doubt that."
"That contradicts what I learned," the robed man said evenly. "Reinforcements have been requested from the nearest fort."
"That's at least a day away," Hamsa replied. "Will the town hold?"
"This region sees this often," Gopala answered. "Villages without proper defenses suffer the worst. There will be casualties—but nothing unusual for these parts. We should depart before travel routes are restricted."
Hamsa fell silent, thinking.
So we don't have to interfere.
But…
I've never been in real combat. Only controlled spars. Controlled hunts. Nothing unpredictable. Nothing where people's lives depend on the outcome.
And if I'm going to walk into the Mana Dead Zone soon, pretending I don't need experience would be stupid.
He looked up.
"I say we check it out," Hamsa said calmly. "If we can assist, we do so. With my abilities, we can end it quickly. I scanned earlier—the numbers seem limited."
"We lose time," the robed man countered. "The Mana Dead Zone is far more dangerous. We conserve strength for what truly matters."
"I understand," Hamsa replied, steady but firm. "But this is a semi-controlled situation. It's an opportunity to gain real combat experience without committing to something irreversible."
Silence stretched between them.
Naga and Gopala exchanged glances.
"We agree with Bala," Naga said at last. "This is valuable experience for the untested Bala. And if things worsen, we can withdraw."
Another pause.
The robed man exhaled slowly.
"Fine," he said. "But how do you plan to conceal our involvement?"
Hamsa's lips curved slightly.
"First," he said, already turning toward the exit, "we move outside the town—somewhere we won't be seen."
He glanced back at the robed man with a faint grin.
"Then I'll show you the plan."
-----------------
A short distance outside the town, near the edge of the forest, stood an old abandoned structure—half stone, half timber, its roof partially collapsed and vines claiming what the years had left behind.
The group dismounted there.
"The horses are secured," Naga said after checking the reins and scanning the surroundings. "No patrols come this far out. We should be fine."
The robed man turned toward Hamsa.
"Now," he said flatly, "what's your plan?"
Hamsa's lips curled into a wide grin.
"Well," he said lightly, "first—show me how your concealment magic works. And explain it the way you understand it."
The robed figure stiffened.
"Are you out of your mind?" he snapped immediately.
Before he could continue, Hamsa raised a hand.
"I understand why you might want to bash my head in," he said calmly. "But humor me."
A tense silence followed.
Then, with visible frustration, the robed figure pulled back the hood.
All three men blinked.
They had expected a hardened veteran—scarred, grizzled man.
Instead, a woman stood before them. Mid to late twenties. Sharp eyes. Controlled posture.
"WHAT?!" Hamsa blurted. "YOU WERE A WOMAN THIS WHOLE TIME?!"
She clapped her hands over her ears.
"Lower your voice, you idiot!"
Hamsa continued rambling for several seconds before finally regaining composure.
"…Right. Sorry."
She glared at him.
"My gender is irrelevant right now," she said coldly. "You wanted to see concealment right? Watch."
She raised one hand.
It vanished.
Completely.
From wrist onward, there was nothing visible.
"This is the effect," she explained. "We wrap mana around the body and alter how light interacts with it. In simple terms, we distort what reaches the observer's eye. It's similar to how angled glass or mirrors bend reflection."
Hamsa stepped closer, eyes focused. He extended his own hand cautiously toward where hers should be.
His fingers made contact.
Her hand reappeared instantly.
"I see," Hamsa said slowly. "So you're bending light to create optical displacement."
He paused.
Realized he had said that out loud.
The woman stared at him.
"You understood that from one demonstration? And my terrible explanation?"
Naga and Gopala were also staring.
Hamsa cleared his throat.
"Lucky guess," he muttered. "Anyway… now that I understand the principle, we can proceed."
He closed his eyes briefly, then let mana spread across his skin. He adjusted the density, altered its interaction with the air—
Moments later—
He vanished.
All three froze.
He flickered back into visibility with an awkward laugh.
"Okay. That part wasn't too hard."
The woman frowned.
"That's impossible. It takes years to refine that control."
Still unable to believe what she was looking at. She reached out her hand.... it vanished.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh." Hamsa said looking at her startled face.
"I expanded the refractive field around the surrounding space," Hamsa explained casually. "More stable that way."
"But how—" she began, voice low.
"We can discuss theory later," Hamsa cut in. "For now—give me your hands. And don't resist my mana."
The three hesitated only briefly before stepping forward.
Hamsa placed his hands over theirs, releasing controlled streams of mana into their circuits.
Once done, he stepped back and extended his field again.
One by one—
They vanished.
"Nice…" Naga muttered quietly, though he couldn't see himself.
"This will hold," Hamsa said, "unless you actively burn through the mana I left in you. So try not to."
He then placed a hand on each horse in turn. The concealment spread over them as well.
"Now," he said, voice focused, tone shifting into command, "the plan."
"We move past the guards and soldiers without interference. Naga, Gopala—you draw the animals away from the main skirmish and deeper into the forest. There's a clearing southwest of here. Lead them there and hold position."
He turned toward the woman.
"As for you—"
"Mina," she said sharply. "That's my name."
He inclined his head slightly.
"Mina. You handle stragglers. Eliminate if necessary."
"And you?" she asked.
Hamsa's eyes shifted toward the forest line.
"I'll take ranged control from the clearing. I'm the weakest with a blade here. But with mana? I'm the strongest."
A brief silence. While everyone checked up their equipment.
Then all three nodded.
Hamsa expanded the concealment one final time, ensuring stability. The air shimmered faintly—then went still.
"Move," he said quietly.
Invisible to the world, the four of them slipped toward the forest.
[1] They are travelling in winter. Cuse if you have seen the map, it is is based in a modal of your own world, just increased in size to accomidate for magic. And India, the monsoon season is very bad and the campaign season usually was in the dry season of Oct-April. This becomes something the MC uses in the far future so I will give this much detail for now. Cause looking at the demographic that are viewing this I have 2-5% from the west.