I simply motioned for them to continue, and kept walking. Passing by the marble fountain, I finally reached the private study and pushed open the large double doors to stand in front of an aged man with a head of thick white hair that matched his long beard. He glanced up, his emerald eyes glimmering with cunning, wisdom, and knowledge—Marlorn, the head of the council.

  I held the title of “king,” but I couldn’t consider myself anything more than a glorified soldier. The ones who actually governed the country, managing the politics and economy, were the members of the council.

  So what was the significance of my position as king?

  As king, I was something like a one-man army. Due to the decreasing birthrates and increasing scarcity of natural resources, the councils of each country had assembled. After countless months of discussion and arguments, they finally came to the conclusion that, if mankind continued to wage wars, we would eventually wipe ourselves out.

  Eliminating war would lead to two major outcomes: fewer deaths, leading to population growth; and a decrease in the destruction of resources and damage to arable land. The solution they enacted was to replace wars with a different form of combat.

  This new form of ‘warfare’ became known as the Paragon Duels. Whenever a dispute arose at a level that threatened to impact a country, a Paragon Duel would be declared, with each country sending the representative they deemed the strongest. In most countries, that representative was named king and given the appropriate honors for the duration of his reign, basking in the praise of the public while the council members quietly enacted policy. Despite the seemingly deceptive nature of this, no one could doubt its effectiveness—humans wanted the simplicity of a black-or-white, win-or-lose situation, and the duels gave them just that.

  Looking up with the insincere, unctuous smile that seemed to be an inborn trait of politicians, Marlorn exclaimed, “King Grey! What brings you to my humble dwelling?”

  “I’m retiring.”

  Without even giving him the chance to react, I unclipped my badge—that piece of metal so sought after by every practitioner—and slammed it down on his giant oakwood desk, then walked out the door.

  All these years, what have I been living for? I was an orphan, brought up in a camp designed to raise duelists. Everyone I had ever cared about had been stolen from me by violence. At thirty-eight years of age, I’d never dated, never loved. Until now, I’d devoted almost my whole life to being the strongest duelist, representing my country.

  And for what?

  Admiration? Money? Glory?

  I’d had all that, but never in a million years would I choose it over what I’d had in the town of Ashber.

  I missed Alice. I missed Reynolds. I missed Durden and Jasmine and Helen. I missed Angela. I even missed Adam.

  Mother… Father…

  As I stormed back toward my room, frustrated by these memories of what I could only see as a dream, the halls began tilting. Losing my balance, I fell to the ground as a muffled ringing sounded in my ears. The ringing became louder, piercing, and pulsed painfully in my head until my vision darkened.

  The sound of someone coughing made my eyes snap open, and the pain I felt told me the coughing had been my own.

  I closed my eyes and opened them again to find myself lying on my back, towering trees and dangling vines filling my vision. However, the excruciating pain that welcomed me told me I wasn’t dreaming.

  Where was I? How was I alive?

  I tried to get up, but my body wouldn’t listen. The only thing I was able to manage was turning my head, and even that involved a series of throbbing pains in my neck.

  Looking to my right, I spotted my knapsack. I slowly turned my head to the left, gritting my teeth through the pain.

  My eyes widened at the sight and I immediately had to fight the urge to vomit. To my left lay what remained of the conjurer I had dragged down with me. A pool of blood surrounded the corpse, which probably had more broken bones than ones still intact. I could see the white shards of his ribs jutting out of the sunken cavity of the chest, and a pile of his entrails beside him. The mage’s limbs were sprawled out at unnatural angles, his skull shattered in the back, brain matter oozing out along with blood.

  His face was frozen into an expression of surprise and disbelief, only hollowed cavities remaining where his eyes used to be. A trail of dried blood ran down his face. I couldn’t turn my head away fast enough. Even in my past life, I had never come across such a badly mangled corpse. The nauseating stench and insects feasting on the gore were too much to take.

  My already-weakened body was assaulted with both the gruesome sight and repugnant smell, and I vomited what was left in my stomach until I was left gagging and dry-heaving. With parts of my face and neck covered in my own vomit, I finally managed to turn my head away from the sight of the mage’s grotesque remains.

  How was I still alive?

  I couldn’t help wondering what had happened while I was unconscious. The mage had been alive up until the landing… so what had happened to me? I should look very similar to his corpse right about now, maybe even worse. But not only was I alive, I didn’t seem to have even so much as a broken bone.

  I pondered over the possible answers until I was interrupted by a strong grumble from my stomach.

  I fought through my body’s protests at my attempts at movement. The only parts of my body I could control were my right arm and my head and neck. I willed mana into my right arm; using my fingers to claw my way, I dragged my body across the ground until I could reach my knapsack. It couldn’t have been more than a yard away, but it felt like an hour before I finally managed to cover the distance. Pulling the bag closer to me, I rummaged through it with my one good hand until I found what I was looking for: the dried berries and nuts my mother had insisted on packing.

  I succeeded in pouring myself a mouthful of the snack. In my reclining position, some of it strayed past my tongue, sending me into a choking fit, and the coughing triggered another round of agony in my body. Fumbling for the waterskin inside my knapsack, I slowly poured a bit of the water into my mouth, then managed another handful of food. Tears rolled down the sides of my face and into my ears as I continued to chew on the dried rations. Finally, I passed out again, using my knapsack as a makeshift blanket.

  My eyes fluttered open as I stirred awake at the brisk bite of cold. I looked around as best as my stiff neck would allow and realized, by the position of the first rays of light peeking through the mountains, that it was dawn.

  Using my mana, I managed to slowly get up. I carefully inspected my entire body, making sure everything was in place before allowing myself to relax.

  First things first.

  I made my way to the mage’s corpse, trying to avoid looking at the heinous injuries that had caused his demise. Spotting what I was looking for, I quickly jerked the knife out of his thigh. I wasn’t sure how long I would be here, so having a weapon was critical.

  ‘Oh, you’re awake.’

  I instantly dropped into a fighting stance, gritting through the pain from the sudden movement. With my knife in hand, I turned to face the carcass.

  I swear to God if this corpse is the one that’s talking…

  A melodic chuckle made me look around for the source of the voice.

  ‘Do not worry. You won’t have to worry about that corpse reanimating.’

  The voice, which seemed to come from nowhere, had a dignified yet gentle quality, evincing a sense of royalty. It was powerful and resonant, yet had a silky, soothing sound that made me want to trust it.

  Still on guard, I managed to mutter a less-than-elegant response. “Who are you? Are you the one who saved me?”

  ‘Yes, to your second question. As for the first, you will find out soon enough, when you arrive at my dwelling.’

  This voice seemed awfully sure that I would try to find it.

  As if reading my thoughts, it continued, ‘I am the only one who will be able to get you home from this place, so I advise you to make haste.’

  That jerked some sense into me. That’s right! I have to get back home! Mother! Father! The Twin Horns! My baby sibling! Are they all right? Did they reach Xyrus safely?

  If the voice could really take me back home, I had no choice but to find it.

  Clearing my throat, I spoke again. “Dear, uh… Mr. Voice, may I humbly ask for the directions to your location?”

  The Voice let out another soft chuckle before replying, ‘Don’t you think it’s a little rude to call a lady “Mister”? But yes, I’ll show you the way.’

  So it was a lady.

  Suddenly, my vision shifted into a bird’s-eye view. As if zooming out, a location came into sight—roughly a day’s trip to the east—and lit up, before my vision shifted back to normal.

  ‘I recommend departing immediately. It will be a lot safer traveling during the day than when it gets dark,’ the Voice chided gently.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I picked up my knapsack and set off at a slow trot toward my destination.

  My movements became less painful with each step and, by mid-morning, I was left with only a few aches here and there. Whatever that lady had done involved some powerful magic. I’d never heard of anyone casting a spell over such a distance. Or had she cast the spell right before I landed, and then left? But how could she have known we were falling, and why had she saved only me? The harder I tried to solve the mystery, the more questions I seemed to end up with.

  After several more hours, my throat burning from thirst, I heard a faint gurgling sound. I headed toward it and spotted a narrow stream.

  “Yes!” I exclaimed.

  I was absolutely filthy. My face and neck still stank of vomit, and my clothes were torn and caked with grime. I sprinted to the stream and cannonballed into it, then vigorously scrubbed my face and body clean. After taking off my clothes and giving them a rough wash, I laid them on a nearby rock to dry. I had finished this refreshing bath and was walking toward my still-damp clothes when a soft chuckle sounded in my head.

  ‘How pleasantly carefree.’

  Reflexively, both my hands shot down to cover my privates as I hunched my back, trying to make my body as small as possible.

  ‘Don’t worry, there wasn’t much to see.’ I could practically feel the Voice wink at me, and I shuddered.

  How rude! My pride…

  I wanted to argue that my body wasn’t developed yet, but I chose to ignore the Voice and put on my clothes.

  ‘Aww. Don’t pout. I apologize.’ The Voice stifled a laugh.

  Calm your mind, Arthur. A king must be calm...

  The Voice remained silent after I put on my clothes, so I rummaged through my bag and dug out the last of my rations. Water wasn’t going to be a problem for a while since I had just refilled my waterskin, but I would need food soon; hopefully, the Voice would provide me with something.

  I looked around, beginning to wonder where I was. Since I had fallen off the mountain toward the east, I knew I must be near the elves’ domain. I didn’t think I was in the Forest of Elshire, because I wasn’t surrounded by fog. Could I be in the Beast Glades? No. There weren’t any mana beasts. I’d spotted a few rabbits and birds, but I had yet to see anything else. But there was a strange abundance of mana in this place. It must have been due to this richness of mana that I had been able to recover from my initial injuries so quickly, though that still didn’t explain how I had survived in the first place.

  Maybe the Voice will explain it to me. I should hurry.

  It was a peaceful, uneventful trip. There was no road, but there were only minimal obstacles in the terrain. The nearer I drew to my destination—the source of the Voice—the richer and denser the mana became. Ignoring the temptation to stop and absorb the surrounding mana, I pressed on. Training wasn’t important right now. I needed to get home.

  Everyone probably assumed I was dead, so I couldn’t help but worry about Mother and Father—not so much for their physical well-being, but their mental health. I was concerned they would blame themselves for my “death.” The only thought that comforted me was the fact that my mother was pregnant. I knew that, at least for the sake of my unborn brother or sister, they’d stay strong.

  I finally reached the area the Voice had guided me to, but I was unable to see anything other than a cluster of rocks shaded by a small stand of trees.

  ‘I’m glad you made it here safely,’ the Voice echoed confidently, as if it had always known I would.

  “Nice to meet you, uhh… ma’am? Miss Rocks?”

  ‘I’m not a rock—nor a cluster of them. The two large rocks leaning against each other on the other side form a crevice. That’s where you’ll find me.’ The Voice chuckled in my head.

  Looking around, I managed to spot the small gap between the two larger rocks, just large enough for an adult to squeeze through. The slight breeze coming from the crevice told me I had found what I was looking for. If the Voice hadn’t directed me to this exact location, I would never even have noticed the small fissure.

  ‘Enter through the crevice, child, but strengthen yourself with mana before you do.’

  Soon I can get back to Mother and Father!

  Without a second’s hesitation, I easily slipped in through the gap, while willing mana to strengthen my body.

  I had expected to step onto a platform, but instead, I immediately plummeted down into the dark hole. The Voice had failed to mention that I’d be taking a vertical fall.

  I guess that’s why she told me to use mana. The thought flashed through my head as I descended, screaming at the top of my four-year-old lungs.

  The fall seemed to last several minutes. Finally, I began to see a faint light below me.

  I landed harshly on my feet; the impact traveled up my legs and back, jarring my entire body before I collapsed on my bottom. Groaning, I slowly levered myself up.

  “So, child. We finally meet.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face as my mouth gaped open and eyes bulged. I was suddenly lightheaded, and my legs gave out from under me once more. I fell back onto my already-aching butt, staring at the one who had been helping me this whole time.

  Chapter 9

  Ones Held Dear

  “W-What are you?” I managed to stammer.

  Despite having lived two lives, my brain refused to believe what I was looking at. A monster—for lack of a better word—easily more than three stories high, was seated cross-legged on a crudely carved throne of jagged stone, one arm lazily supporting its—her, I reminded myself—head. The petrifying red eyes that gazed down at me, though menacing, carried an oddly tranquil quality. Two massive horns protruded from the sides of her head, arching down and around her skull and curving up to a point near the front, almost like a crown. Two fangs peeked out from her lips, and her body was adorned in sleek black armor. Though it had neither decorations nor embellishments, it still glowed like a priceless treasure.

  I was once a king. Still, this being sitting before me now made me embarrassed to have ever had the nerve to call myself one. No, the one sitting on that giant throne was a being that would make even the most faithless of heretics bow down in reverence.

  Yet here she was, in all her glory, her head resting on one arm, nonchalantly scratching her nose with the other hand.

  And what I had failed to notice until now, because of the dim lighting in the cave and the blackness of her body, was that this being had a gaping hole in the side of her chest, from which blood oozed in a slow but steady flow.

  “We finally meet,” she repeated with a lazy half-smile that revealed a row of pointed teeth.

  I tried to get up, but only made it halfway. I ended up back on my butt, my face still slack with shock at what my eyes were seeing.

  “Bugs will fly into your mouth if you keep it open that wide.”

  Well, at least she has a sense of humor, I thought.

  “As for what I am, I won’t discuss that. You can draw your own conclusions based on what you see,” the horned humanoid monster said. Her eyes seemed to gaze straight through me.

  I was speechless, but the creature didn’t seem to notice.

  “It will take some time for me to open a dimensional gate to transport you to your house,” she sighed. “Until then, just be patient and wait here. There are special roots that grow here. You will be able to live off those until I finish.”

  That’s right. In my shock at the creature’s appearance I had completely forgotten about my family. I managed to regain a bit of my composure and stood, walking a little closer to the being.

  Giving a courteous bow, I replied, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, and for what you intend to do. If there is any way I can repay you, I will do for you whatever is in my power.”

  “Such good manners for a child. Do not worry; I am expecting neither a favor nor your gratitude. I’m doing this simply for my own amusement. Come! Sit here closer to me and keep me company. I haven’t talked to anyone in a while,” the being said with a laugh, and patted an area of her throne for me to sit on.

  I climbed up onto the platform rather awkwardly, forgetting I could use mana to just jump up, and propped myself on the throne next to the being.

  “Excuse me if I am being rude, but you don’t really look like a lady. How exactly shall I address you?” I said, making eye contact.

  “You’re right. I don’t exactly look like a lady now, do I? I wonder why I said that. My name is Sylvia,” she replied, letting out a soft chuckle.

  This giant demon god-like monster looked like anything but a ‘Sylvia’ to me, but I chose to keep that to myself.

  “Elder Sylvia, do you mind if I ask a few questions?”

  “Go ahead, young one, although I may not be able to answer everything.”

  I immediately began rattling off questions, overcome by the curious wonderment that her presence cast over me. “Where is this place? Why were you here all alone? Where did you come from? Why do you have that huge wound? Why did you save me?”