The visuals and sound, and the textures and general feeling of the air brushing across his skin was all too uncanny.

YGGDRASIL was a game that was considered to have had begun the Stylistic Revolution amongst its large Player base, but it didn't mean that the quality of the data-bites that composed its system mainframe could be considered 'good.' In various aspects, it was like most other Dive game-companies, attempting to find a balance between practicality and sensory feedback. Auditory senses weren't much of a problem, however, the aspect of visuals was what made the quality of YGGDRASIL rank as 'good' when considered in the gaming industry.

It was without doubt, the best. Enhanced data crystals and customizable items allowed for player imagination itself to influence the appearance of in-game armours and NPCs. At the same time though, the images and player-tailored settings YGGRDRASIL was prided for was also its most glaring weakness.

Hailed as the best, there was no doubt that Players always sought after more. Improvements in mechanics and enhancements in visuals, being one of the main concerns as Players wished for the game to be perfect.

Yet they were asking for the impossible.

He paused in his steps, his eyes surveying the area around him before deciding to head up into the foliage to get a better vantage point.

The feel of the rough bark on his skin, and the sight of the crawling insects gorging themselves on the needle-like leaves of the conifer whose branch he stood upon had already far passed the point of YGGRDASIL's capabilities.

They were called fixed internal appearances in YGGDRASIL, preventing characters from displaying facial expressions and fine details. Here however, the quality was too lifelike.

His hands balled into fists as he thought back to Arturia and the others, before he shuddered.

It really was too real.

He shook his head, unwilling to think about it at the moment.

Truthfully speaking, he probably wasn't being completely honest with himself when he had decided that he had wanted to test his current abilities outside the Mausoleum. Instead, he was more likely trying to give himself some time to adjust to the situation; to not stand rooted in place just because the clarity of Arturia's gaze brought back bitter yet fond memories. Granted, he probably had missed her too much to create the other historical figures that were almost identical to her.

Still, he digressed. He had already composed himself enough. All that was left was a silent hope that just maybe, there was something more at play than just a mere relocation.

His eyes scanned outwards, bronze coloured orbs suffused with dim magical light widening.

[Far Sight]

It was a Ranger specific skill designed to aid in their perception of the environment.

Ranger was one of the many classes he had access to as a Player of a Humanoid Race in YGGDRASIL which had two other racial classes aside from Humanoid: Demi-Human and Heteromorphic. In which case, Humanoid classes like himself had disadvantages in base stats and didn't possess an innate racial leveling system like the other two racial classes that allowed them to level higher. Instead, he had access to far more job classes, giving him a higher potential.

Versatility could be deadly, and the armory within himself was the prime example.

As a standard Human among the Humanoid Races, he didn't exactly play YGGDRASIL with the same intentions as other Players. He had played it as a means to ease his own pain of loss, and as such hadn't made himself well known, only taking classes and skills that would benefit the customization of his NPCs and sate his curiosity. Nonetheless, one innate racial class eventually landed in his character stat sheet upon his thousandth time defending casual Players from Player Killers.

[Hero.]

As opposed to [Overlord], another in-game racial class, [Hero] was a hidden class that was too difficult and obscure for most Players to obtain due to its lesser known requirements. Mainly the lack of participation of any questline or event, gathering experience to level up through conflicts that arose in the defence of other Players instead.

As he wasn't too interested in the game itself, he didn't participate in missions or events, choosing only to help others as was his personality.

He was perhaps the most selfless individual of all of YGGRDRASIL, in which case, maybe it wasn't just coincidence that this hidden racial class awakened within him.

The [Hero] class had no specific requirements for leveling unlike the [Overlord] class which had a heavy emphasis on Death Magic. To level the [Hero] class, what was required was simply Reputation, a value reserved solely for the [Hero] class and depicted at the bottom right corner of a user's field of view.

Unfortunately, he was never one to actively stand out. As such, he hardly leveled the particular class and had barely just reached the required Reputation to advance to the next level before his sudden transfer to this New World.

In which case, he was back to 'zero' in Reputation. Subsequently, any thoughts of understanding what passives and skills the [Hero] class entailed was placed at the back of his mind.

With [Far Sight] activated, everything became more detailed, a panoramic view of the area around him displayed in his mind for over a thousand yards. It was kind of like a mini-map that appeared within his peripherals.

It was all forest, birds and animals loitering in the shrubs as foxes and bears meandered near the far creak. Most of the surroundings were covered in the shade of the looming mountain and it wouldn't be until the sun eventually climbed up to its summit that light would pool in.

In regards to location, the place the Mausoleum had appeared in was fairly remote, not a single sign of any settlements nearby, but oddly enough, flickering torches of light appeared within his mind.

The indicators of life presence, a Ranger's unique skill tied in with other independent-action classes such as Assassin or Dark Kin.

Even if he couldn't see them due to the obstacles that were before him, he could sense them as flickering flames in his panoramic view granted by [Far Sight].

As he had observed before, the area was quite remote. As such, why were there so many others within the vicinity?

Unless he was simply mistaken and had neglected a settlement of sorts, it was too unnatural. More so when most of the flames were congregated into a large group waiting at the boundary of the forest around the mountain itself. The only distinct difference was a smaller party of sorts that had split off and entered the forest.

Odd as it may have had been, this suited him well enough as locals probably had a better grasp of the New World he had found himself in as compared to his own limited knowledge.

Scanning with his eyes again, he decided to head back towards the Mausoleum before moving towards the smaller of the groups that were within the forest to have a better understanding of the situation.

In regards to his earlier tests, he understood that he had access to the skills he had acquired in YGGDRASIL on top of his own magecraft which he had used in the Real World. He wasn't too sure what to feel about that fact, but in the long run, he wasn't certain about the strength of the enemies he may face, and as such, knew when to simply just count his blessings.

With the current strength of his level, it wasn't that difficult for him to return to the Mausoleum with post haste.

Upon arrival however, he noticed that everything wasn't exactly how he had left it.

A woman was standing at the entrance, arms crossed beneath her chest and expression smug as if waiting to be praised. It was a combination of a smile and not a smile, conflicting views causing her to be uncertain of what she should do. She was stuck with the concept of whether she should or shouldn't gloat for something that she had done and that he was unaware of.

She was the Red Rose of Rome.

The Flower of Olympia.

Nero Claudius.

And in the end, he simply walked by her.

She stiffened almost immediately, the expectation in her eyes faltering before she convinced herself that he must have had made a mistake. She promptly coughed into her hands to bring attention to herself.

"Ahem,"

She bowed her head, ready for her efforts to be acknowledged as proper, yet was once again left waiting.

She glanced up, only to see that he had walked even further from her.

Her lips trembled uneasily, but she was too prideful to act as if her earlier actions hadn't existed. Therefore, she quickly began to grow desperate. She dashed in front of him, her stern glare meeting his gaze in admonishment. The only thing though was that her expression was the farthest from anything resembling stern or admonishing.

She looked as if she was going to cry, and at this point it was too hard for him to ignore.

He composed himself from the difficulty of seeing her face and not thinking about his own past. Fortunately, she and Arturia were still different individuals, making it easier. Then again, he designed and programmed Nero, so there was no doubt that he understood her personality. It was just, it appeared as if she was acting with more life than she had in YGGDRASIL and he already feared what effect that had.

Nero wasn't very strong for a Raid-Boss. She was never designed to be. Instead, it was all based on character traits and charisma. Of course, she had the base stats of an average Raid-Boss, but her main strength came from the number of Players that were swayed by her words and actions and actively fought to prevent the fall of the Maiden Emperor of the Warring Empires in Alfheim,

She was boisterous, arrogant, and pretentious, but of all Raid-Bosses in YGGDRASIL she had never actively attacked Players and instead greeted them in another manner, hand outstretched.

"Will you lead as one of my Cohorts, young warrior?"

Rather than her attacking them, she had even protected them from other local monster, repaying animosity with security, and violence with equal respect.

That was Nero, Emperor of Rome. Raid-Boss of the Warring Empires in Alfheim.

She who loved in a manner unable to be understood by anyone. Her vision of Rome, the flag that many Players fought under to the bitter end.

She was just too lifelike. A real personality and presence that seemed to surpass the mere mechanics of YGGDRASIL and ascend to something Players isolated in life or not realized was precious.

If he wasn't the only Player to have transcended worlds and crossed over, he could already imagine the heralding of the Standard.

The Aquila.

The symbol of the Eagle that united Players under the banner that was Nero's Rome.

Still, staring at the satisfied expression that came over Nero's face from the moment his hand started rubbing her head, it was hard to imagine her as the charismatic leader in the game and far easier to see her as a spoiled child. Be that as it may, that may have had been part of her charm.

A tyrant yet compassionate.

Obstinate, yet willing to concede when times dictate it.

"Fine, leave. It's not like I needed you."

His lip twitched, an image appearing in his mind that shattered his earlier conjecture. A huffing face on the verge of tears, unwilling to admit to a mistake.

Or maybe still just a child. Either way, that was the Nero he had recreated from history. The one who was presently sighing in content under his palm.

"Umu," she said, her bob-cut hairstyle growing slightly disheveled, but still appearing pristine like silk. "I did well I did."

"Mhhmm," he hummed, not comprehending what he should be praising her for, but doing so anyway when he noticed how happy she appeared.

"Yes yes, you finally understand my greatness now don't you, Praetor?"

She turned her face towards him, anticipation evident in her eyes.

Unfortunately, it was time he got his answers.

"What exactly did you do?" he asked, watching as Nero visibly deflated.

"Umu," she muttered to herself before facing him. "It would seem that it was too much for me to assume that you'd know even without me telling you, but as the supreme Praetor I had hopes. Very well, now listen closely. It was your honour that this Emperor decided to act and instigate my distant relative into action on your behalf."

"Huh?"

His lip twitched. Now that he thought about it, the group of Knights and a King he had left behind were strangely absent. Contrary to the discipline that they were known and programmed for, they hadn't remained behind to await his return.

It was a shocking realization that caused him to stiffen for its significance couldn't be ignored. Arturia and the others, they weren't just the simple lines of text and script that he had made them from, but seemed to be actual people. Based on the in-game script alone, no matter what Nero would have had done, the Duty and Responsibility of Arturia's settings wouldn't have had been swayed. It was similar to old RPGs where no matter how many times one talked to an NPC, the dialogue would never change. In this case though, it did.

Arturia, through her own decision, led herself and her Knights out to scout the surrounding vicinity based on Nero's words.

Her actions were human, involving thought process and mental choice.

Therefore, didn't that mean it was the same for all the other NPCs he had created? It was almost like a new life for them. The histories that they were comprised of dictating their strengths and abilities. Recreating the figures lost in the annals of history.

Thus, Arturia would be identical to the Arturia he had known for he understood her the most, and spent the longest time with her.

He forcibly cut off that trail of thought, for he didn't know what he might have had done as a result.

Nonetheless, he understood at the moment what he had to do.

Nero stared blankly at him in confusion, somewhat concerned for his sudden stillness, lips pursing.

It was exactly because of the human expression on Nero's face that solidified for him what he was going to do from now on. He had created all these NPCs, therefore he would protect them and let them experience the life that their past responsibilities barred them from.

This was a chance.

Fake as it might be, subconsciously, it was still a way to help him cope. To see the joy on the face of the woman he loved once more. That alone was enough.

"Are you alright, Praetor?" Nero finally asked in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, scratching at the back of his head.

Everything just felt so surreal at the moment, yet his years working in his profession had allowed him to lock onto finer details.

If Arturia and her Knights were just scouting the area, then they would do so in a circular perimeter, making their search distance smaller than his own which reached the edge of the forest. Therefore,

"You said they left earlier, right?" He questioned slowly while recalling the current state of the forest around.

Nero nodded.

"Then why aren't they back yet?" Was all that he asked.

Nero's expression blanked.

It was a solemn sort of silence; the kind Vincent had never really experienced due to his standing as an heir of the Berferd Dutchy. After all, he had never been the one to initiate the conversation, but rather those that wished to create ties with him did instead.

It was a rather jaded lifestyle that he had unknowingly gotten used to, leaving him tongue tied as he stared at the small back walking just ahead of him. It was almost unbelievable to imagine that the woman before him was the person who had just saved him.

Small of stature, but possessing an integrity and duty greater than any other.

The sound of her small steps pressing against the ground were rather heavy compared to his which were rather soft-sounding in the tranquil silence. Then again, her heavy armour must have had weighed her down far more.

He had heard of many women in the Roble Holy Kingdom aspiring to be Paladins or Holy Knights in hopes of matching the legend of the Kingdom's National Hero, the Holy Maiden and Valkyrie of Roble, but the woman before him was far more.

With the means she had exhibited earlier, he was certain that Gustav Montagnés or Remedios Custodio, premiere Holy Knights of the Kingdom, wouldn't even be able to hold a candle to her.

He really wanted to find something to talk about at the moment, yet he really was at a loss about what to say even after she had so righteously offered her aid on his behalf.

As it would turn out though, it wasn't something he himself was going to initiate. It was her instead.

"Where exactly is this place?" Arturia asked, gaze shifting back towards Vincent.

If anything, she had slowly come to realize that Vincent was literally a walking source of information. Just like Shirou, she too wasn't familiar with the current location and Vincent's information may prove useful.

More importantly, a part of her was urging her to find ways to help ease Shirou's burdens.

Her question, however, caught Vincent by surprise.

"You don't know where we are?" He asked befuddled.

Expression stoic, Arturia eventually explained that she had lost track of her surroundings while out training for experience.

Vincent stared at her for a while with slight doubt but still explained that they were in the midst of the Roble Holy Kingdom located southwest of the Re-Estize Kingdom.

Expression remaining as it was, Arturia made sure not to give anything away. In fact, the terminologies Vincent used himself were too foreign for her to understand. To begin with, she didn't even know what the Re-Estize Kingdom was. Still, the amount of background she was able to garner would help her out in the long run.

Unfortunately, she was bound to err due to her current lack of knowledge.

"You don't even know where the nearest village is from here?" Vincent said in surprise.

She frowned, but couldn't deny Vincent's inquiry. Instead she could only be truthful.

"Growing up," she began slowly. "I was raised in hiding for my own protection. Sir Ector, my Guardian at the time never stayed too frequently in well known towns and settlements. Other than in my childhood, I was raised in general isolation."

When she spoke, it was with a tranquility and solemnness that stunned Vincent for he couldn't comprehend where the regality of her aura originated from.

He swallowed, glancing away as he felt shameful that he may have had brought up difficult memories.

"Sorry for being inconsiderate," he immediately acted to correct his mistake.

He was never an indecisive person and was keener on being straight forward. In a political sense it wasn't in his best interest as an heir of a dutchy, but he never liked politics anyway. He already had plans to delegate such tasks to a loyal follower more adept at the art.

Arturia smiled lightly, the edges of her lips creating small dimples that added to her character.

"You are a good man," she complimented. "Sir Ector had always warned me in my youth about Nobles who speak with two faces, yet its clear to me that you speak only with one."

"Ah yes, well, I'll just take that as a compliment," Vincent said uncertainly, yet inwardly he felt pleased with himself.

Still, he knew when to be serious and when not to be.

Eyes glancing around, it was with clarity that he recalled that he was nearing the place where he and his entourage had been sneak attacked.

"Careful, it's just up ahead," he warned.

Arturia's expression shifted back into a calm slate. She had already thought everything out after agreeing to help. Using her last encounter with the assassin earlier as a basis, she theorized that the relative strength level of her adversaries wasn't enough to bypass her innate physical defences. However, her past experiences in her memoires and her intuition were warning her to never take anything for granted.

Consequently, she raised a hand and decided to play it safe.

"Wait here for a second," she whispered.

Communicating inwardly, she tasked Tristan with scanning ahead. Of all her Knights of the Round Table, she had only taken Tristan from out of the perimeter they had set up around the Mausoleum. Lancelot and the others were more proficient in combat rather than recon which was why she chose Tristan to accompany her in the shadows due to his Independent Action, Archer, and Ranger Class.

The news she received from him moments later was rather grim.

"There's a large congregation of men just outside the forested region of this mountain, friends of yours?" She inquired doubtfully.

Vincent's expression darkened as he cursed. "No," he said flatly.

Although he didn't know how Arturia was able to garner such information, he had already chosen to trust her and he wouldn't go back on his word. Arturia's natural charisma probably had a lot to do with it.

However, if what Arturia said was true, then his situation was hopeless.

"Those damn bastards," he clenched his teeth. "Do they wish for power and influence so much that they would condemn a fellow countryman?!"

He was venting and he knew it, and yet what else was he supposed to do?

"The only good new I can tell you is that the people that followed you on this hunting trip were let go back into the forest in hopes of luring you out," Arturia explained, listening silently to Tristan's reports and deductions. "Yet this plan backfired as your men chose to bitterly toss themselves into the rapids to make their escape."

"Serves the bastards right," Vincent complexion brightened somewhat, but he still wasn't very hopeful.

No matter how high a regard he had for Arturia at the moment, he understood that even famed Holy Knights like Remedios would have trouble facing numerous opponents. More so when he had already deduced that they wouldn't be just standard mercenaries, but trained soldiers instated by other powerful Noble Families.

"Is there any chance I could use the same method of the river to escape?"

Arturia shook her head.

"The river is being attended by rotating sentries. You won't get close before getting spotted."

Vincent closed his mouth before placing his back against a tree and falling into a seated position. His hands ran through his hair trying to think, but no matter what he wasn't able to come up with anything.

"Was it wrong for me to not have chosen a side?" He muttered with a tinge of regret.

He hadn't intended for Arturia to hear it, but her enhanced senses made that notion impossible.

Teal eyes stared across at him in curiosity before words exited a mouth.

"Why are you being hunted down?" Arturia inquired.

At first, she hadn't been very interested, but after taking note of Vincent's character, she decided that he wasn't an individual that she wanted to see die without reason.

Reluctantly, Vincent explained the current situation of the Southern Kingdom and the numerous disputes between the Nobility vying for power.

Meanwhile, Arturia only listened silently, not commenting and only nodding when Vincent expressed his view to remain neutral from the political fighting.

When Vincent finally finished and Arturia understood the entirety of the events, she couldn't help but frown.

This was too cruel. Of course, in her time of ruling in Britain, the majority of Nobility were united in their goal to drive of the Saxon, Angle, and Jute invaders, but despite some hostilities they were still able to put up with each other.

Vincent's situation however was simply going too far. As such, she made up her mind.

"Do not give up hope on your beliefs," she spoke with conviction, causing Vincent to focus on her.

What he saw nearly made him gasp in surprise if not for the fact that he was too shocked to even breath.

A light that was a crystallization of dreams. Sand-like particles glowing radiantly as they gathered to a central point.

Soft warm winds began to pick up, like the gentle heat near the foot of a hearth.

It was a light that was otherworldly. An aura like none other.

"If you can't put your faith in me," she said softly at barely even a whisper, her arms gently unsheathing a blade from its scabbard. "Then put your faith in this sword."

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