"Sigh... making a living is tough."
A desolate wilderness. No Nomadic Cities in sight, not even a properly built structure. Just a dry, barren wasteland without a single blade of grass. Yujin sat in a chair and sighed.
The only problem was that the "chair" was actually a man crouching on all fours to provide a seat.
"If you buckle, I‘m cooking dinner right here," Yujin warned.
"H-have mercy, please..."
The Sarkaz man, sweating profusely and acting as a human stool, barely held back his tears. How did it come to this? He and his gang had been waiting in the wastes to rob messengers and wanderers traveling between cities. Instead of a easy payday, they had been utterly crushed by someone with overwhelming strength.
"Just a bunch of small-timers after all. I guess that guy really was an anomaly."
Yujin thought back to his duel with Tarkan three years ago—the former Knight of the Royal Court who used explosive Arts. Since that day, he hadn't faced another threat that drove him to the brink of death. It made sense; these scavengers weren't strong enough for a real war, so they spent their lives ambushing exhausted travelers.
"Hey."
"Yes, sir!"
"I'll give you ten seconds. Scram. If I catch you doing this again, you're dead. Understood?"
"Thank you! Safe travels, sir!"
Yujin watched the wandering mercenaries bolt into the distance. He had enough on his plate and didn't want to stain the start of his journey with unnecessary blood. He gave them one chance; if they were foolish enough to get caught again, that was their business.
Yujin sighed as he looked out at the endless desert from his vehicle. He had plenty of fuel and food, but traveling between cities alone was proving to be incredibly dull. If Kalaisha were here, she would have kept things loud with her constant banter. He actually found himself missing her noisy presence.
Theresis had been horrified at the thought of having two Kalaishas around, though.
To break the silence, Yujin popped a cassette into the player. Music filled the cabin—songs that felt different from what he remembered from his previous life.
The basic structure was similar, but this was a world where a penguin could conduct a classical orchestra. When he first heard that there was a penguin in Leithanien famous for classical music, he had been stunned. While everyone else just accepted it—"Of course a penguin can do classical music"—Yujin, with his memories of Earth, found it a bit hard to process.
As the sun began to set, he prepared to make camp. For cooking and heating, he relied on Originium. It really was an all-purpose mineral—just pop a shard in, and everything worked perfectly.
Up until now, he had kept his secret close: no one knew he was immune to Oripathy. Not even his Master or his friends. He knew exactly what kind of firestorm that revelation would cause. Originium, the cursed stone—simply touching or ingesting it usually meant immediate infection. Handling it without a protective suit was as dangerous as radiation exposure.
But Yujin had done both with no ill effects. In fact, when he tried chewing on a piece once... it tasted terrible, but it felt as if it restored his focus.
Oripathy. It slept within Buldrokk's body, and within Theresis, Theresia, and Kalaisha. In this world, if you carried the name Sarkaz and weren't Infected, people looked at you with suspicion. The world feared the 100% mortality rate of the disease. That fear fueled the persecution and discrimination against the Infected.
He had lived in Kazdel, where the Infected were everywhere, but his Master had warned him that the outside world would be different.
"Almost all of us are Infected here, but other nations aren't like us, Yujin. Keep that in mind. Don't go drawing your sword just because you're angry."
Yujin chuckled at the memory. He was the type to throw down a gauntlet and demand a duel if someone crossed him, but he wasn't reckless.
He pulled the car over as night fell to set up camp. Looking up at the sky, he noticed a clear, star-filled expanse. But whether it was the gray skies of the slums or this beautiful night, Yujin still felt a strange sense of dissonance.
The sky of Terra is a lie.
The thought struck him as if it were etched into his brain.
"…What is this?"
He was startled by the realization, which felt as unshakeable as one of Theresia's mental Arts. He had felt something was off before, but the sky being fake?
To any observer, the starlit sky looked perfectly real. Even in his Master's vast library, there were no records suggesting the sky was a falsehood. Just what was it? He shook his head to clear the intrusive thought. He could look into it later; for now, he had a mission and a tournament to worry about.
He tucked the thought away and finished a simple meal. Sitting in a folding chair, sipping tea from a thermos, he reviewed his route to the nearest station where a Kazimierz Nomadic City was scheduled to dock.
His destination: the Major, the world-famous knightly tournament held every three years in the Grand Knight Territory of Kavalerielki. It wasn't just a sport; it was a massive national festival, the pinnacle of Kazimierzian culture.
He had six months left, but even that felt tight to prove himself. He didn't expect to win it all immediately. Like always, he would start from the bottom. Maybe he‘d find work in a tavern—it felt like a romantic way to gather information, the kind of thing you read about in novels.
"I‘m looking forward to it."
A new place, a new world. His friends had worried, but for someone who had spent his entire life in Kazdel, this was a unique opportunity to see the world. 64 major knightly associations would gather, and if he was lucky, he might catch a glimpse of the Silverlance Pegasi, the most elite regular knight order in Kazimierz.
"I wonder if I can beat them."
The thought stirred his competitive spirit. How strong was the military peak of a major nation? Knights fought in units, and Yujin—who only ever sparred with Kalaisha and Buldrokk—was curious how he would fare against them.
Were Buldrokk and Kalaisha considered "strong" on a global scale? He assumed so. He had fought the Master's undead thousands of times over three years, sometimes facing hundreds at once.
"…I really did nothing but fight for three years."
Adapting to the Decay while swinging a blade was the hardest thing he‘d ever done. While Yujin focused on the sword, Theresis had taken a different path, focusing on politics and internal affairs once he had gained a basic combat foundation.
"I'll handle the thinking. The man holding the hilt is more important than the blade itself," Theresis had said. Theresis was preparing his own moves within the Royal Court.
His mind eventually drifted back to his immediate goals. It would take about three more days to reach the Kazimierz border. Three Nomadic Cities were scheduled to dock together for the festivities, meaning the crowds would be massive.
He had two tasks: prepare for the competition, and find a needle in a haystack—the Banshee Princess. He pulled a photograph and a slip of paper from his wallet.
Raquelamalin.
That was her name. The photo showed a girl with branch-like horns forming a crown, light orange eyes, and the feather ornaments that symbolized Banshee royalty. Her pale hair reached her waist, marking her as someone special.
She should be easy to spot in a crowd, but if she was using Banshee sorcery to hide her presence, finding her would be a nightmare. Yujin didn't know much about Banshee bone-whistles or their specific powers.
"…I guess I only have three more days of peace left."
It was boring now, but once he hit the border, he‘d be too busy to breathe. He decided to enjoy the silence while it lasted.
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