AN: This will be a little disjointed. I finished up all the some of the things I thought of for this arc, but the filler between moments isn't here, also the written expansion for reader comprehension is missing.

Even though he had recovered from his exhaustion, his nerves were still on edge as he sat in the same carriage as Ghislaine.

His heart was thumping rapidly in his chest, and although one might assume fear was responsible, they would only be partially correct.

After his soul had reacted to the Flat Core, and the truly foreign matter that was not from his world was registered into his consciousness, he felt more present.

As in the sensations of reality were now consciously being identified.

He was aware of his surroundings on a more personal level.

The wooden carriage he was in was made from wood and had cushioned seating, and it was rather uncomfortable as it didn't have a proper suspension system.

The sun was bright, and the warm rays poured through the glass windows, heating up his skin to what was supposed to be an almost unrecognizable degree of difference.

He could hear the wind that was being displaced by the fast moving carriage lightly rattling the windows.

His senses were sharp, and he knew that as he had refined them himself, but now they were almost overwhelming.

He was keenly aware of his surroundings, and the fact that he existed in the world.

It stung, the sensations were like insects that were crawling around his brain only to be zapped by his own thoughts.

It didn't matter. This was the most common thought that interrupted his budding emotions of discomfort.

When he almost wanted to voice a light and trivial complaint, mostly for small talk, a scenery of a smoldering wasteland riddled with burning swords flashed through his mind.

His hands were sweating, perspiration was accumulating because he was rapidly closing and opening his grip, grasping an imaginary hilt.

But he couldn't visualize the rest of the sword, since it didn't choose him, and instead it was actively rejecting him.

A similar sensation traveled through his entire soul, throughout Unlimited Blade Works, the weapons were resisting him. He could feel no right to wield them, a feeling along the lines of being unworthy.

He didn't understand, yet unlike his previous failures, and since he was properly aware, he was racked with confusion and disappointment.

If he couldn't use his arsenal, then he might not be capable of saving someone. Sure, he had some strength, but he would never match the skill of Servants, and when he used their weapons, he also mimicked a portion of their power.

And this was his soul, the crystallization of his essence as a person, and yet he couldn't use it. He was incapable of fully utilizing his own power.

Frustration, along with the other emotions and sensations were the insects invading his brain. As blood pumped through his brain, he could feel them burnt and shocked.

As his hand tried grasping the hilt of the sword of selection, he felt rough sand and burning ash slip through his fingers. The remnants of his failure faded away before they could land on the floor of the carriage he was in.

When he tried visualizing a proper landscape inside his soul, all he could see was a gray sandy wasteland, where it was raining white molten steel, and rivers of black bubbling magma were flowing through.

Sparks, embers, dust and ash, rolling clouds were obscuring everything in the distance.

The sounds of civilization reached his ears, and it shook him out of his internal observation.

The sight was marvelous, he had already seen such a view from Saber's memories, but that didn't lessen the experience from seeing a genuine medieval town in person.

It wasn't too different from his first time seeing a view of the ocean as the sun lowered beyond the horizon, or as it climbed over mountains in the morning.

It was the sense of scale that it represented that was truly stunning.

Just like the natural scenery demonstrated just how grand the planet was, a bustling city illustrated a population of living beings all cooperating together to build a society.

Especially in an era like this, everyone was contributing and providing for everyone else.

Food, clothing, utensils and other services, the common people of this city couldn't rely on large corporations and an extensive government to provide all their needs, they had to rely on each other to survive.

And they relied on knights to keep them safe and to ensure their society didn't crumble.

Ah, his understanding was probably grossly incorrect, but he wasn't too troubled by that, he would learn sooner or later how the real world worked over here.

...

...

After arriving at what was a proper castle, he had to realign his expectations a bit.

Since he was working for Paul's cousin, he had assumed it to be another knight in service of a lord, not the mayor of a large fortress city.

Philip Boreas Greyrat was the one responsible for calling him here, and he certainly had the air of a noble aristocrat.

His expression was perfectly pleasant and polite, and his mask wasn't even that deep, as his true emotions weren't hidden. It was only his disposition as a calm person that was out of place, his nature was simply reserved.

Drinking tea and discussing the specifics wasn't a hassle or anything, but Rudeus could feel that he was being interrogated, and the man was slightly on edge as they talked.

However, the beastkin maids slightly distracted him from also being on edge.

...

...

The small girl with bright red hair had a look of contempt in her eyes as she looked down on him.

He took a step back on reflex as a hand shot out, and her palm completely missed his cheek.

The girl, Eris, was supposed to be his student, however it seemed there might be a few difficulties interfering with that future.

…

…

His nightmare was interrupted by the strained gasping of a young girl.

His eyes shot open, and he realized his hand was the one responsible for choking out the young girl.

A small wooden sword fell from her grip and she began clawing at his grip.

He released her before her face could turn purple.

She scampered off, and leaped through his open window.

He saw her red hair dancing in the moonlight as she ran away through the night.

He stared at his hand as emotions burned through his brain.

It was over in an instant.

He had heard the singing of steel behind him, and he ducked beneath the blade swinging for his neck.

As his silver eyes caught sight of steel, he grasped the history of that sword, and so he knew it had tasted the blood of innocent lives.

Without a second thought, he twisted his body and Projected a nameless dagger.

As he momentum came to a rest, he heard the wet sounds of intestines slipping out and falling near his feet on the floor of the alley.

His feet were already in motion once more before the corpse of his attacker could also fall down.

…

…

Another man stood between him and the guy carrying the unconscious body of Eris.

The man's sword informed of his combat history, so he knew exactly how much force the man could muster with his overhead slash. His dagger sliced clean through the man's sword and neck.

Although he didn't lose a step, the moment the man had intercepted his path that man also blocked his view of Eris and the guy holding her. And they turned a corner shortly after, so he had lost sight of his goal.

But he didn't stop, he kept running and jumped off ledges to scale the building wall, and reach the roof. His sharp eyes scanned through the visible paths, but since it was the middle of the day, the streets were packed.

His gaze shot through every individual, searching for anything suspicious.

He spotted a cloaked figure speeding through an alleyway, and about to turn a corner.

In one second, a bow manifested in his hold, and in the next an arrow was soaring through the sky.

The man stumbled as steel pierced clear through his calf, bone and all, but he kept running without falling, and before he could exit his line of sight, he saw red hair in his hold.

By the time another arrow was ready to fire, the man was gone.

'It's fine, if I'm fast enough I could catch up with the blood trail. I have to remember the warriors here can fight even after being injured.'

Paul had never been injured during sparring, same with Ghislaine, so it was a little hard to internalize the fact that a sword style could teach how to fight even after being wounded.

He had been too soft, because he didn't want to risk killing an innocent person, and he didn't want to get rid of that concern, so he would need to develop a proper sense for combatants.

Eris was a little bratty, which was putting it lightly, however after saving her from the men that wanted to sell her off, she began respecting his strength.

But that wasn't really saying much, what that actually meant was that she admired his skill and strength.

He was seen in a similar light as Ghislaine, however, only his power was, not him as a person.

Eris had even said something along the lines of him not deserving his power, and that it was wasted on him.

So basically, instead of gratitude for saving her life, he was met with daily sneak attacks at nearly every moment she was free.

After fighting back for the first few times, he started simply evading her strikes and leveraging potential spars after she finished her other studies.

AN: *Sigh*

Honestly, most of my enthusiasm for writing this story came from my desire to see Shirou teach Eris, and yet even though I'm here, I don't care for this story anymore.

I was pretty excited at first, but I just don't care anymore.

I had a lot of things planned out, but I can't see myself writing this story anymore.

Everything happening with Shirou had a reason, but… you get the point. I don't want to spend my time writing something I no longer enjoy.

So for now this story is indefinitely on hiatus.

Don't miss this story too much, most of the major future plot points could easily be predicted if you're familiar with the future of Mushoku Tensei.

Thanks to everyone who has enjoyed it so far. See ya.