The steady, rhythmic clack-clack of my leather boots against the polished stone tiles was the only sound echoing through the grand hallway. Anyone else would have thought I was walking alone. But I knew better. Behind me, Taki moved with the absolute, uncanny silence of a windless winter night.
Glancing back, I caught sight of her footwear. Instead of the heavy wooden geta common among the Eastern women of this world, she wore traditional split-toe ninja sandals—a striking detail pulled straight from the archive of my past-life Earth memories.
Taki noticed my gaze dropping to her gear. Her dark, striking Elven features remained perfectly composed as she spoke, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
"Unlike the common Elves of the Western forests or the Eastern wood-clans, we Dark Elves belong to a secretive culture," she explained softly. "Our ways rely entirely on stealth, espionage, and sudden assassination. The short blade at my hip is called Defender—a Kunoichi Mage blade forged specifically for protection."
She paused, keeping her eyes closed as she gracefully navigated the corridor. "My affinity lies with Water element magic, and I am a wielder of the legendary Cursed Eyes, just like the King of Balder. Even with my eyelids sealed, my <True Sight> allows me to perceive the world clearly, piercing through any illusion, disguise, or falsehood."
"And the curse?" I asked, intrigued.
"When I open them, my power of <Foresight> activates," Taki said, a hint of gravity darkening her tone. "I see glimpses of the immediate future—the fates of those around me within the next hour. But this sight strains the mind and body. If used too frequently, it will kill me."
A sudden realization struck me. King Owen Balder wore a leather eye-patch over his left eye. If he possessed the exact same Cursed Eye, it explained his trademark look perfectly.
"Understood, Taki," I said, offering a firm nod. "Then please, keep them closed around me. I don't want you hurting yourself on my account. Ah, here we are."
We stepped into the grand guest waiting room, where my older brother Thorin was buried in a cup of tea.
"Hey, brother," I called out, pulling his attention. "Sorry for the wait. I'm ready to roll."
Thorin stood up, towering at his full height of six-foot-one. "Finally!" he boomed, his naturally magnetic voice filling the room. "I thought I'd have to drag you out myself for this materials-gathering trip. It's about time we—" He froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he looked past my shoulder.
"What in the hell? Is she a Dark Elf?!"
His shock was entirely justified. Dark Elves were an exceedingly rare sight on the continent of Myst, far scarcer than standard Elves or travelers from the Eastern lands.
"Yeah, but keep your voice down," I warned in a low tone. "I'll fill you in once we're on the road. Her identity needs to stay strictly under wraps for now."
Thorin stared, utterly fascinated by the fact that this deadly-looking woman was casually navigating the palace with her eyes completely shut. He didn't push for answers, though. The three of us quickly turned on our heels and made our way toward the royal stables.
In the courtyard, Sleipnir—my fourth-circle Demonic Clydesdale—glared at us as we approached. I could practically feel the dark, bitter curses swirling in the beast's mind. The stallion was visibly frustrated, but with Taki emanating the sharp, lethal aura of a sheathed sword ready to draw, he knew better than to act out. A proper gentleman horse, I suppose, could wait a decade for its revenge.
Unaware of my mount’s internal villain monologue, I threw on the saddle. Thorin readied his own brown Clydesdale beside me. Because of her compact ninja gear, Taki chose to ride sidesaddle directly in my arms rather than sitting behind me, noting it would allow her to react to an ambush much faster.
With my arms securely around her upper body, we guided our mounts forward. The heavy gates creaked open, and we trotted out of the Duchess's estate, leaving the city behind.
The clip-clop of the horses' hooves echoed cleanly off the paved stone roads as we reached the open highway. Thorin leaned over in his saddle, his eyes burning with curiosity.
"Alright, spit it out," Thorin demanded. "What's the deal?"
"You know how I awakened as a Mage?" I started, keeping my voice low. "That was just the surface story. In reality, my true class is a Summoner. Taki here is brought forth by my class's ancient magic."
Thorin’s jaw tightened.
"With King Owen being the only known male Summoner in existence, we absolutely cannot let this leak," I continued. "Especially not to the royal capital or the academy factions."
Despite his boisterous and impulsive nature, Thorin wasn't a fool. He understood the political weight of my words instantly.
"A second male Summoner?" Thorin muttered seriously. "Damn. Yeah, I get why you kept it a secret. If I had known this while Vice Principal Lisa Swallow was flirting with me at the wedding, I probably would’ve bragged about it. If the Prince found out, they’d be making moves on you in a heartbeat."
I nodded, the gravity of the situation weighing on me. "Sylvia warned me to keep a sharp eye out. Whatever Vice Principal Lisa Swallow is planning, it involves the both of us."
Mentioning the Vice Principal seemed to restore Thorin's massive ego. He had been a bit down lately—feeling overshadowed by my sudden marriage to the Duchess and my connection to Shade—but his pride had clearly rebounded after his recent meeting with the academy official.
Reaching into his vest, he pulled out a pristine parchment letter and handed it over to me.
As I unfolded the note, I caught Thorin staring enviously at Taki, who was still resting comfortably in my arms. To the average human male of Myst, finding an Elf exotically attractive was considered a bit eccentric—perverted, even, by local cultural standards. But as two guys possessing past-life Earth memories? We were unrepentant Elf-loving degenerates. It was the gold standard of fantasy tropes.
Local history even mocked King Owen Balder for taking an Elf woman as one of his Queens, though Thorin and I would later discover the mind-blowing truth behind the King's specific tastes. For now, it just felt normal to us, considering the legendary founding king of the realm was a Half-Elf anyway.
I scanned the letter. Once you filtered out ninety-nine percent of the flowery, aristocratic bullshit, false compliments, and ambiguous flirting, the core message was clear: Lisa Swallow wanted to get close to Thorin the moment he arrived at the capital's academy.
When I looked up, Thorin mistook my skeptical expression for pure jealousy. He puffed out his massive chest, a smug grin plastered across his face.
"Princess Lana Balder was just confirmed to be a Lightning Summoner," Thorin boasted, practically glowing with pride. "That's one of my primary elements! The Vice Principal told me the Princess is desperate to get close to someone with my exact compatibility. And let me tell you, I saw her portrait. She is drop-dead gorgeous. Exactly the kind of woman I'm going to make my wife."
Thorin was floating on cloud nine. Realizing my warnings were falling on deaf ears, I decided to drop it. We spent the rest of the half-day trek engaging in casual brotherly banter, shifting the conversation to our brutal Knight Path training routines as we both pushed toward the second circle.
Achieving the next rank was vastly different for the two of us. Even though Thorin possessed the rare Full Knight skill, he had to train three times harder than anyone else. He was forced to simultaneously temper his muscles, his nerves, and his bones. I, on the other hand, only had to focus on bone durability while pouring the rest of my energy into cultivating my magic core.
By afternoon, the rolling plains gave way to a dense, towering wall of ancient wilderness. We had arrived at the northeastern edge of the Infinite Mountains Sky Forest.
The vast expanse was a breathtaking landscape of massive spruce trees, towering green pines, and stark white birch. It was a classic northern frost environment; a sea of brilliant white snow mixed with deep green pine needles and mossy earth. The air was crisp, heavy with mist, and biting cold.
Taki shifted in my arms, her eyes still closed as she sensed the tree line. "I will scout ahead, Lord Loki," she murmured quietly. "I will remain hidden in the shadows, gathering the rare herbs and winter flowers required for your upcoming advancement to a Second Circle Vanguard. I shall only reveal myself if you face true danger. Enjoy your hunt."
I nodded, and she immediately began weaving her mana. The complex spell took a full ten seconds to manifest.
"Fade into mist," she chanted softly, "Long Range Teleport."
Poof.
Suddenly, my arms fell light. Taki vanished into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a faint trail of swirling water vapor and the sweet, lingering scent of fresh wild blossoms.
Thorin watched the high-level magic unfold with wide eyes. The moment she was gone, the inner horny Earth man inside him completely took over.
"Alright, Loki, be completely honest with me," he whispered, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Have you slept with your summons yet?"
I froze, caught entirely off guard by the blunt, shameless question—though, to be fair, I absolutely would have asked him the same thing. My mind immediately flashed to a dozen incredibly exotic, mind-melting poses that Shehuang had shown me in the past.
Seeing my stunned silence, Thorin burst out laughing, giving me a heavy slap on the shoulder. "Wow! You lucky bastard. Man, now I really am jealous.
Alright, let's let the horses loose here at the tree line while we head in."
Our war-trained mounts were highly disciplined. They wouldn't wander far and would stay within whistling distance for at least a week. We slipped off their heavy saddles, stowing the gear safely inside our Space Rings to let the Clydesdales roam comfortably, and stepped into the frozen shadows of the forest.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the quiet woods erupted into chaos.
Crackle-BOOM!
Thorin swung his massive, five-foot-long Dwarven Black Iron Maul with terrifying velocity. The weapon was alive with a blinding, crackling Thunder aura—a devastating combination of wind and raw electricity. The cinder-block-sized head of the maul connected squarely with a charging Orc, obliterating the monster’s upper body like a ripe watermelon under the sheer weight and shocking force of the impact.
I took a deep breath, scanning the tree line. Six more Orcs were charging our position. They stood a towering seven feet tall, their thick, muscular frames layered in heavy fat and covered in crude, shabby armor. Their yellow eyes burned with malice, and their flattened, pig-like noses snorted crimson mist. Every single one of them was radiating the distinct, oppressive strength of a second-circle beast.
Reaching back, I drew a sleek wooden arrow and notched it against my Elven Longbow.
Buzz... Creak...
Channeling a precise blend of Air and Life aura into the draw, the magic of the Elven bow responded instantly. The ambient wind condensed around the arrowhead, forming a whistling, glowing projectile out of pure energy.
Twang—Swoosh—THWACK!
The string snapped. The aura arrow shot through the snowy twilight like a falling star, tearing through the distance and completely erasing the head of the lead Orc in a violent explosion of crimson mist.
"Damn it, brother!" I yelled over the din of battle, already reaching for another shot. "I swear you're the literal reincarnation of Thor. Your damn attacks are way too loud!"
Crackle... Crackle...
Thorin just grinned, the blinding electricity dancing across his Maul growing even brighter as he channeled more aura. "Please! Thor was a god, and I'm way more handsome than some Norse guy in a winged helmet. Though... Thorin and Thor do sound pretty similar. Hey, your name is Loki, do you think—"
Crackle-BOOM!
He cut his own thought off with a massive sweeping strike. Another massive Orc went airborne, crashing violently into a thick pine tree. Its spine snapped instantly. Definitively dead.
Thorin was utilizing the hallmark first-circle Strong Knight ability, <Aura Blow>, which naturally doubled physical damage. In his hands, combined with the volatile element of Thunder, that destructive power was easily tripled.
Twang—Swoosh—THWACK!
I executed a rapid double-power shot, dropping an Orc that had managed to flank me from a blind spot. "Nah," I called back, tracking the remaining targets. "My name was Luke in our past life, remember? It's just a crazy coincidence. Besides, I don't feel like a chaotic, backstabbing god. Personally, I think I'm incredibly charming."
Crackle-BOOM!
A third devastating swing from the Black Iron Maul crushed the fifth Orc into the snow. The final surviving monster took one look at the carnage, shrieked in terror, and bolted back into the woods.
Thorin lowered his weapon, leaning on the handle as he gave me a look. "Yeah, you've got a point. But let's be real, you only became charming after we got reincarnated. Hey, shoot that running bastard, would you?"
Twang—Swoosh—THWACK!
My final wind-infused arrow sliced through the dark forest, piercing the fleeing Orc directly between the shoulder blades. The massive creature pitched forward, plowing face-first into the frozen moss.
Thud.
Thorin let his maul drop into the bloody snow, stretching his aching arms as he pointed toward the messy corpses. "You know the rules, little brother. If you want those Second Circle Life Cores for your advancement, you've gotta dig them out of their chests yourself. God, I hate smelly Orcs. Disgusting."
I walked over to the nearest body, pulling a heavy survival knife from my belt and grimacing at the stench. "Seriously, why can't Orcs ever take a damn bath? They smell worse than a rotting Demonic Boar."
Thorin wiped a smear of thick green blood from the head of his weapon, chuckling at my suffering. "Man, I love this weapon. I'm so glad the Princess sent it to me. She really is incredibly thoughtful."
"She isn't just being thoughtful, brother," I replied, kneeling over the corpse. "She's falling hard for your dual-aura and the fact that you can train every single Knight Path at once. But hey, I guess that's your version of charm."
Puck!
I drove the blade deep into the Orc's chest cavity, holding my breath against the foul odor as I carefully searched the muscle tissue for the glowing Life Core.
"Ha! Well, that's exactly how you managed to marry my new sister-in-law, isn't it?" Thorin teased, leaning against a tree. "Come to think of it, our entire family's noble status skyrocketing is completely thanks to you landing the Duchess. She did make me an official Knight with real nobility, after all. So... thanks for the hard work, Loki. You're doing great as my boy-toy little brother."
I flipped him a green, blood-covered middle finger. Thorin just threw his head back and laughed, his booming voice echoing into the dark, frozen canopy of the forest.
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