Hello, welcome to my story.
This is my attempt to reexplore and rewrite Mushoku Tensei series. Hope you enjoy it. The story takes place directly after volume 6 of LN and season 1 of anime. The story is formerly known as "A minor change, a different world" and also posted on AO3. Light Novel is considered as primary canon. Spellings are also from LN. There is no update schedule at this time, updates are irregular. The story isn't likely to be abandoned, although there can be breaks in updating up to several months long at a time. Any feedback is welcome. I also can be reached in Mushoku Tensei discord server (which is a broad description, but I mean the most popular public one which is also tied to the largest dedicated reddit community, I believe) as One Inch of Ash in the fanfiction chat.
The Teleport Incident of Fittoa, without a doubt, was an event that defined decades to come. Events of this caliber tend to. Asura Kingdom government sent competent enough investigators to define the cause – and none of them could even come up with a solid hypothesis. The Magic guild was utterly baffled about its' cause, as a magical disaster of this caliber without a visible reason was unprecedented and had even less of a cause from the scientific point of view. Its researchers pursued the investigation to this very day but had only a little more success than royal investigators. Even world powers, observing the mundane world from afar with a hawk eye, couldn't determine the origins of the calamity.
Aside from the cause, even the mechanics of teleportation were utterly undecipherable. Just what determined the teleportation location? Was it person's mana? Or was it the impact of calamity on one's body? Could it be that distance to the epicenter determined it? None of the former have proven themselves correct. In the end, it is reasonable to assume that the teleportation destination was random. Random order of things, random effect – these things aren't unheard of in this particular branch of magic.
That's why a phenomenon known as the Butterfly Effect could change the fate of a single person dramatically. After all, a completely random thing happening twice in two different situations is cosmically rare. For example, let's say a person from the city of Roa could have two different versions of the same day. The difference would be minor – whether he had porridge or bean and pork stew for the breakfast. The two options would not make any difference normally, but in these circumstances it mattered, because they physically changed the object teleported: its mass, its state, its location at the time of the teleportation. That's how the outcome of one minor change could turn the fate of a normal person, a 'weak' fate upside down. More so, minor changes usually tend to pile up as the person affected interacts with other objects, expanding the difference between two alternate timelines.
On the other hand, a 'strong' fate is a thing in the Six-Faced world. Fate of some people tend to converge to reach certain events in their life. Like this, nothing changed for the stray soul which inhabited the body of a ten years old boy. His student, a violent rich girl, wasn't really affected by the Butterfly Effect, too. Perhaps, the were fated to embark on a journey and meet a superd warrior. Or, perhaps, the threads of their fate were pulled by some other being at its will.
Strong-fated people are the backbone of this world history, it's them who determine the frame of it. And it's their actions that reassemble fate of world. Yet, the rest of them, so called weak-fated ones are the flesh and blood of it, it's their existence that often determines how the strong-fated ones see the world.
For the sake of this story the change was a minor one as well. Sauros Boreas Greyrat had drank a wine from a different barrel on Rudeus Greyrat's birthday celebration, leaving him with a bit of hungover in the morning. Just how could this affect the fate of the world, really?
Sauros Boreas Greyrat had his fill of fighting when he was younger. He had been given the training expected of nobles. Combined with his body constitution and character, he was a fearsome fighter in his youth, despite not having a great amount of raw talent. Even now in his fifties, he was in a good shape: strong as a bear, and despite his stamina declining and skills getting a little bit rusty didn't change that he was capable to survive the initial days after the teleportation by himself.
One moment he was arguing with Philipp in the dinner room and then he was in the middle of nowhere. It was quite a shock, but having a short sword, cloak, a golden broach and a few coins certainly increased his chances of survival. He made his way through the forests and marshes of yet undetermined territory, cutting down some C rank monsters on the way. In the end, he was able to get into a small, half-destroyed town, where after some careful inquiries he was finally able to determine his location. North outskirts of the Kibal County, one of the small, dying nations in the middle of the Strife Zone.
Constant war of each against all did this territory no good. Local pseudo-nobility and warlords had no resources to spare for anything other than their own survival. Small folk, abandoned to their own fate, couldn't protect their homes from monsters, outlaws and invading forces, leaving remaining people in utmost poverty. Adventurers with a smart head on them left this place long ago, as no one could pay them. Not smart adventurers rarely survived long enough to make any difference, as they generally tend to. Therefore, with no force to step up and help, this territory was stuck in a vicious circle, slowly degrading into a wasteland.
Local lord hasn't appeared in town since forever. The garrison that was left behind was decimated last autumn after invasion from a neighboring country. Adventurers guild was abandoned. Merchants didn't visit this place, unwilling to risk their wares and their lives.
With no choice whatsoever, the Boreas patriarch, after hanging around for a few days, traded most of the coins for a horse and provisions, hired some less untrustworthy mercenaries out there and set off on the journey to get back into his domain.
A visit from a stranger who could trade himself a horse couldn't be unnoticed. Local bandits' informant, noting it, went to his protectors, letting them know about virtually unguarded old man.
One day to the south, on the ford through a river, an ambush was set up. Several brigands, armed with self-made bows, old short swords and axes, were awaiting there. A perfect crime. Only one thing went not according to the plan. The victim did not show up.
A day after the ambush was set up, four of them left to let the boss know and ask for the orders, leaving another three on standby.
The assigned victim taken them up on the opening, assuming the brigands have given up. Unluckily, he underestimated just how desperate the brigands were for some loot. Lord's horse was shot during the crossing. Lord's two bodyguards were killed, taking one of the attackers with them and injuring another. As Sauros Boreas Greyrat, injured by his own horse and with an arrow in his back, was slowly trying to escape, two remaining attackers caught up with him.
Offing the uninjured one with North God style move of throwing his dagger, the lord eventually managed to overpower the injured one, receiving a few more cuts himself.
There wasn't much hope now. He couldn't go back to the town. He didn't know of any villages nearby. The forest was probably filled to the brim with monsters. Lord's only hope was that a traveler would find him at some point. Staying in place, tending to his wounds as good as he could, Sauros Boreas Greyrat was waiting for his slow, but almost inevitable death.
Three days later, weak, bleed out and feverish, lord was sitting, his back to the pine tree near the road. A few notes, scratched on the parchment with whatever was nearby and with his own blood, were in his pocket.
That was the state Ghislaine Dedoldia found her master in. She couldn't do healing or detoxification magic. There was no hope for him, yet she still tried to bring him to a healer. After a few hours on the way, it became apparent. The remnants of meagre mana he had were oozing and dissipating around the scene. He was pale as a corpse, with dried blood staining the clothes along with mud. Even the fever was wearing down.
"Protect Eris. Let her be happy" were the last orders to the Black Wolf Sword King, left by Sauros Boreas Greyrat. Beastwoman could only helplessly watch as his life faded away, with her fists clenched and head down, gritting her teeth.
Hours later, after taking away her master's last notes and a broach, she burned the body with elementary fire magic, [Fireball]. Collecting the ashes and few churned shards of the bones, she had set off. Ghislaine had an order to fulfill. And if she took a detour to slaughter every single member of the local gang – well, Ghislaine just couldn't resist the urge. There was no telling just where ojou-sama could have ended up after the teleportation.
In the years to come, the local legend of the Forest Goddess had also mentioned, among the other things, a brutal demise of the gang who seized control of the town for a time. It was said that a divine punishment was cast upon them. And every time new brigands started terrorizing the place, or a new band took control of the town, locals would harbor a hope of the divine punishment of death coming for them by the grace of the fierce goddess. Interestingly enough, every single time most of the bandits eventually died, strengthening the belief further.
To tell the truth, there was nothing good for Sauros Boreas Greyrat would he have survived to return to the Asura Kingdom. As the first days after the teleportation passed, the lesser commotion of an assassination attempt on second princess Ariel died down. Turns out, neither the monster nor the white-haired child fallen from the sky were tools assembled to murder the princess. Instead, a whole raging tempest of intrigues and conspiracies came in place. The royal court may have been astonished by the scale of unmitigated disaster that Metastasis event was, but none of the nobles and officials could spare many thoughts, let alone resources for attempting to start rectifying the aftermath of the calamity. Instead, all the recourses were directed into surviving the storm, reaping benefits of it and putting the blame on someone.
More often than not, the blame was directed to the Boreas house. Unsurprising, really. Not only they ruled over the territory, but over his long reign as the house head, Sauros Boreas Greyrat made quite a few enemies. Boreas wealth attracted rivals, ill-wishers and sycophants. Loud, prideful and stern temper of missing lord accumulated grudges, even from previously allied nobles.
Whitefox, Liston, and most important of them – Philemon Notus Greyrat – all those lords had a bone to pick with Boreas house and Sauros Boreas Greyrat in particular. Namely, Philemon had personal grievances with Sauros, intensified by the rumors of his disgraced brother Paul's offspring fostering in Roa palace.
Incidentally, but not coincidentally, all those nobles and more belonged to the second princess' faction.
James Boreas Greyrat, heir to the family, as soon as he sensed the direction of wind, fled the court with the rest of the family, fully intending to sit it all out away from the capital.
In another world, when Sauros Boreas Greyrat would show up and start throwing his entire fortune into rebuilding of his ancestral seat, these lords started plotting. They would call in favors, pull strings with money, blackmail and authority, curry favors themselves. A lot of time, plotting and recourses would be thrown into putting down the lord of one of Four Great Houses of Asura Kingdom. In the end, combining their efforts, they managed to corner Sauros Boreas Greyrat and bring him down. But that would be a trap. Darius Silva Ganius, senior minister and leader of the first prince faction Sauros belonged to, had no personal attachments. Even more, he had his own grudges with Boreas house. So, when the lord would outlive his usefulness, he would be thrown away to be torn apart by his enemies. And when the trap would close in, most powerful nobles of second princess' faction were severely punished for that little plot. Only Lord of Millbots, Philemon Notus Greyrat, would manage to escape the punishment, pretending to switch sides.
Without all those powerful figures, Ariel's faction would implode, making her flee for her life.
However, in this world things had gone differently. Sauros Boreas Greyrat did not arrive to the court. Neither did Philipp. No such convenient opportunity presented itself, and James was too useful to be recalled and used as a scapegoat, as he would eventually take control of Boreas wealth. Senior Minister Darius could only lament the fact that such a nice plan had gone to waste.
"Ah, how unfortunate" he would think, not really concerned. Now he just had to manually destroy those fools, one by one.
So, when the time for extermination of second princess' faction had come, things were shaping up akin to a fox hunting, striking the Achilles' heel of second princess faction. Unlike what the reader might think, that weak point that made them vulnerable to fox hunting was not lord's Whitefox name, but the origins of the faction. None of the nobles of this faction had a real common goal besides making Ariel win to curry favors from her. No longstanding alliances, no economic or strategic partnership, no kinship or intermarriages. That's why the lords were picked out, one by one, and bought, intimidated or downright overthrown or demoted. That certainly took more time, but Darius Silva Ganius was not restricted in his methods, and had put to use anything shy of exterminating whole noble lines.
And so, after two and a half years after the calamity, none of the remaining lords of the second princess' faction was in any position to continue fighting on the political warfare. In particular, November of K419 was marked by a very public accident.
During a reception princess Ariel held, a giant chandelier along with a part of the ceiling fell down on lord Liston, instantly killing him and several other guests. Princess herself would have perished if not for the smart and quick use of voiceless wind magic by her newly-acquired guardian magician, a mysterious white-haired boy.
No witness and no politician believed in such accidents, no matter how loud the opposite factions' members lamented 'unfortunate circumstances', 'misfortune' and 'loss of such eminent statesman'. In the matter of weeks, more nobles distanced themselves, and more assassination attempts on the princess' life followed. In the end, accepting a wise counsel of one the few remaining allies, lord Greyrat, princess Ariel left the city of Ars, heading north to the Kingdom of Ranoa. The official reason was studying abroad –, apparently princess held amazement and growing respect for magical arts, the very thing that saved her life – points given for a creative excuse.