High up, in the sky, I was sitting on the air with my legs crossed, next to me was Faye, sitting in a much more lady-like fashion. Here, so far removed from anyone I wondered what she might be thinking about. "Faye, do you miss Alexandra?" I asked sincerely. At first she was silent, as she was usually, but then answered, "I do." The conversation ended there. She didn't say anything more and I didn't want to pry. That was good enough for me, and somewhere deep, I hoped it was the same for her. Unless she had some kind of mind reading ability I was sure that even she was curious about what I was about to do. Far below us, the armies of Kathe and Landsfor were preparing for a fight. Not an all out fight, mind you, but more of a ceremonial one, to show strength and honor the traditions. Well, they were in for a big surprise this year. Standing up, I walked a bit down from the air so they could see me better. I used [Amplify Voice] to yell down at them. Everyone suddenly stoppe

“For who doth thou think thou art to disrupt a venerated battle such as this?” The old mage asked. Of course, the first powerful person I meet in a world like this is an old man. He does look pretty fly, with a silky robe and a pointy hat. I wonder, does he have muscle under his robe? He was a mage, that usually meant that, physically, he was weak but anime logic demanded that he was buff. “The King has delivered you into mine hand to strike you down and I will send your head into his bosom. I will do this thing before all of the kingdoms and beneath the heavens. Wherefore hast thou despised the commandments of the king to do evil right before his sight? Thou hast stricken and killed in unlawful fury and hast taken up sword against the kingdom for thoued own.Now for the sword shall never depart from thine house.” Jeez, this guy was pretty intense. I imagined more of a kooky kind of old man mage. Right this moment, I couldn't think of any examples of specifically kooky old man m

There was a time when the monarch of Landsfor and his closest ally sat in the royal banquet hall in relaxation. That moment wasn't now. The most recent ruler of Landsfor, Rene Retaire, sat in a state of rage, worry, and other negative emotions that had begun to rise up inside of him even before the annual conflict with their primary rival kingdom, Kathe. He slammed his fist into the large table filled with delectable foods in front of him and cried, "Damn it all! "What is it, my lord?" Leoren, the elderly figure known as High-Invoker, asked the king. He mumbled numb, "It's nothing," in response. "I simply can't stop thinking about what occurred."" The old man sprang up from his chair and bowed to his monarch, saying, "My lord, my heart genuinely tears with grief." "Leoren, stand up and quit addressing me as Lord. I had thought that since I have been Rene to you for my whole life, it would continue to be so for the rest. Do not bother yourself with my sorrows. Nobody could have i

I hate this mortal. Usually, I do not harbor any ill feelings for mortals; I usually do not harbor any feeling at all for them, but him… He does not treat anything or anyone with respect. One of the things he does which irritates me the most is that he does not treat the name of Lady Alexandra with the reverence it, and the Lady herself, deserves. No, he rather uses her name with contempt and associates himself freely with her, which I find revolting. I cannot imagine what kind of life he must have led in his previous one. He is an insane half-wit and I also believe him to be the same in the moments he had before he lost his sanity to this world’s system. Sheltering himself, out of his own free will, as a child and separating himself from most, if not all emotions to play out his little game of using his ability every day without miss, like a mindless automation to gain just an increment of power. And because his minuscule strength is considered fantastical in this world, he su

The newcomers' chain clanging could already be heard. Another throng of unfortunate people are being brought by the slave-drivers to their doom. This time, there were thirteen; it felt like their numbers grew along with the brutality of the handlers every time there were new arrivals, which by this point had virtually been every week. One of the fresh ones, who was confined by four handlers, was subjected to particularly cruel treatment, being beaten for every single step he took, his neck must have been in constant pain because of the spikes of the man-catcher they held him in. His movements were slow and deliberate, and the chains that bound his wrists, feet, and upper body as a whole must have been almost as heavy as he was. Yet they were having trouble containing him. A member of the equitaur race. I’ve heard of them, but this was the first time I’ve actually seen one. They’re much taller than I had expected, and this one was very rowdy. They flung him into the cell I had be