*****Chapter 5: Different World, Same Problems*****

AN: Right! So this has been delayed long enough, and as such, I won't keep you here with a long AN. Oh, and just letting you know: I did slip in a little bonus section in the form of an omake. Enjoy!

What a mess…

That had been the sole thought going through Yana's mind since the "attack" an hour prior, and the frankly gruesome fate of the group that launched said attack.

Went out to see the bandits, determined how to deal with them, decided that there wouldn't be any conversation to be had, only to end up wiping basically all of them out rather than just scare them off with a mid level attack. Seriously though, that was just one attack! Effectively the same as a black hole spell! Sure, anything below level 60 would almost instantly die, but how was I supposed to know they were so weak?! And what was with that range?! It should've cut off around 10 meters from the point of impact; that's how it worked in-game!

The more she thought on it, the more concerned she became. And not just because of the bandits' power level being so low.

Wait, if this is all real though… then that means I... I killed them. Dozens of lives snuffed out, and I feel… I feel… mildly annoyed?

The realization had her pausing mid-stride, internally debating what she should be feeling right about now.

Behind her, Gaius and the various honor guard of her village stopped, the group of guards with the bandit prisoners already having moved off to the cells. Her wolves had wandered off after the action ended, but given they acted like oversized puppies around all of her NPCs, she didn't mind them exploring. Back on the topic of her first experience taking lives, however.

That doesn't– but I should– what? I killed people, slaughtered them even, so why don't I feel upset by it?! If anything, I'm more angry about not being upset! The hell, Yana!?

"My lady?" Gaius spoke up, voice indicating his concern. "Is everything alright?"

Mentally slapping herself, Yana took in a breath and turned to face him, mustering as much confidence as she could. She hoped it did the trick. "Yes, I'm fine, Gaius. Just a little distracted is all; nothing to worry about. Let us continue, shall we?"

It seemed her words had the intended effect, as the Centurion bowed slightly. "As you command, Lady Rodina."

Facing forward once more, Yana began walking again, thoughts on a thousand different topics. Just before she reached town center, and her throne, a thought struck her. "Gaius, we have yet to send out any long range expeditions since arriving here, right?"

Immediately the man shook his head in the negative. "We have not."

Nodding to herself, Yana continued, a plan coming to mind. "Then send a message to Warden Ilya," she commanded, the person in question being the leader of her scouts. "I want four scouting parties to be sent out to map the local area. Only her best troops will do. While she's doing that, I want you to begin expanding Romula's walls and fortifications."

Realizing another fact of her situation mid sentence, she had to accept a certain reality. "We can't stay trapped in here forever, and I know that many of the civilians will want more homes for their children to live in later on."

Gaius gave her a look she couldn't quite place, but smiled warmly afterwards. "Of course, My Lady. It will be done."

Dismissing him to carry out her orders, she approached the throne and sat on it, the remaining guards moving to stand in a formation around her that she remembered creating: not too close as to crowd her space, but not so far away as to leave her exposed. Given there were only a few dozen honor guard in total, it wasn't hard to remember their names, but they each wore a helmet blocking their faces; it didn't help that unlike in Yggdrasil, they didn't have their names floating above them anymore.

Right. Now that that's taken care of… what do I do now? I mean, I could go talk to those two bandits, but who knows how that would end up going. Then again, what else am I going to do for the rest of the day?

…

…

…

Not coming up with anything better to occupy her time, she sighed and stood up, heading for the town jail.

Well, at least all those silly projects I made back in the day to bring some life to the village are finally proving useful. Huh. Maybe I could stop by the hotel after this? I think that's where I set up the hot spring. An actual hot spring, and not just a cheap imitation like what I'm used to back home… God, that sounds amazing right now…

And so, with thoughts of lounging in the luxurious pools of her hand crafted hot spring in mind – something that was out of reach for her back in Russia, in spite of the decent amount of money she gained from streaming – she made her way to the prison with a skip in her step and a smile on her face

Imai'ed was a simple man, serving in the Sultan's army for the guarantee of food and gold it offered. He had been doing so for some years now, and while he had yet to marry, he was at an age where he was comfortable with his lot in life, so as a result he was seeking out a potential wife. All of this was unimportant to his current situation, however, as instead of admiring the many beautiful women of his home city, he and a relatively large detachment of soldiers were sent out into the desert to look at a hole in the ground. Oh what a perfect reason to make such a trip!

Now true, the hole was anything but just another dip in the dunes – he wasn't so foolish as to ignore the glaringly obvious signs of magical destruction that was wrought here – but he couldn't help but think there was another reason for the expedition to exceed three dozen troops. Such a force was typically reserved for collecting taxes from particularly stubborn villages and towns, or putting down revolts from those same towns when they refused to pay said taxes.

Occasionally, they'd even been deployed in monster hunts for especially widespread herds of beasts, ones large enough that all but the best of adventurers were unable to quell. It was even cheaper than hiring adventurers at times, due to the more powerful ones, such as those who held the vaunted adamantine card, being incredibly costly to hire. But that didn't explain why this hole deserved the same treatment as a wild monster herd.

His silvers were currently placed on the cause of the hole being a particularly powerful, and particularly drunk hermit-wizard, though there was also quite a bit of money on it being a wyrm of some sort. One of the new kids even thought it was a true dragon, but that was ridiculous; dragons don't just go making craters for no reason. Those ancient reptiles had better things to do than scorch the desert more than it already was.

Supposedly, the reason for the size of their group was due to one of the Sultan's scouting parties having been wiped out for all but one man, who told a tale of a powerful monster that wears the face of others and kills without mercy. Personally, he thought the scout had been out in the sun for too long. Those monsters had been wiped out centuries ago by the gods themselves and everyone knew it; did he honestly expect people to think one had managed to escape the Holy Purge all this time?

"Hey, Imai, did you hear?" he was asked by one of the other troops patrolling the crater's border, the sun beginning to set. He was so lost in his thoughts he hadn't even noticed the man approaching him, which probably wasn't a good sign if he was being honest, but you can only stare at the same region of sand and rock for so long before it starts to get boring.

"I didn't, no. What happened?" he asked, now curious.

"The Captain just got a new visitor!" The man informed him, as if that was any different than the dozen other examiners, inspectors, and learned men that had come to see the crater in the past few days. As for the man's name, he couldn't remember it for the life of him; they didn't interact much, so honestly, Imai was a little surprised to be approached at all.

Not seeing what was special about it, but figuring that something was different, he shrugged. "And? What about it?"

"From what I was told, it was some adventurer in flying armor made from the purest silver!"

Well that caught his attention.

"Huh. I don't remember the guild in the capitol having any adamantite rank with armor like that. A new orichalcum maybe?"

The other man shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know what they're doing here. They came out of nowhere and showed the Captain's tent guard a sigil, and were allowed in without any questions. Must be someone quite important though."

Imai hummed in agreement, and feeling a little thirsty, he looked down to grab his canteen for a drink. As he did, he noticed something strange about the other guard's shadow: it seemed longer than it should be, given the sun wasn't that far down on the horizon yet. Before he could ponder this further, a pair of silvery-white armored legs landed just on the edge of the shadow, causing him to look up at the face of their owner.

He didn't catch how the shadow squirmed in discomfort, or how the armored boots seemed to dig into it a little more than necessary.

The person who just arrived was certainly a shock for the pair, as it was none other than the mystery adventurer they had just been discussing. Said adventurer turned to glance at each of them before asking: "Having any issues at your posts, soldiers? Any intruders?"

The words, while having a strange accent he couldn't place, were layered with the authority of a lord, and Imai couldn't help but stand a little straighter as a result. "None so far, Sir. What brings you here? Did the Captain send you?"

The armored man, for a man was what the voice belonged to, seemed to think for a moment. As he did, he took a slight step back, and Imai could swear he saw the shadow the man was standing on dart off before shrinking to the size it should've been. "I merely wished to see what the two of you were discussing. I didn't expect it to be me of all things."

"Well, it's been a long day, Sir. We need something to pass the time while on patrol," he said, all while internally debating if he saw what he thought he saw or if it was simply a trick of his imagination.

The response must've amused the armored man, as he chuckled lightly and nodded. "Indeed. Well, I must be going. A pleasure to meet the both of you."

And just like that, he left as quickly as he came, flying off into the distance at high speed. Imai couldn't help but watch the adventurer go, a little jealous of how easily he could maneuver in the sky, no doubt thanks to the clearly magical armor he wore. It probably cost a decade's worth of pay for most normal people.

"Oh he's adamantite at least," the other guard said aloud, admiring the scene just as he was.

"Easily. Must be from one of the other sultanates in the area," Imai agreed, sighing after he did. "Well, we should probably get back to patrol. I'll see you later."

The guard nodded in response and turned around, headed back to his post. At that point, Imai decided he did indeed imagine the oddity of the moving shadow. After all, things like that appeared only in frightening old bedtime stories spread by the elderly. They didn't exist in the modern day.

Everyone knew that.

Well, what a terrible day this turned out to be, was all that Maria could think while doing what she could to hide inside the carriage, the shades drawn and door locked. The shades were so high up that anyone at ground level wouldn't be able to easily reach them.

First the rain forced us to make camp earlier, and now this bandit attack killed all the guards. Truly, what a terrible day… and Andryn was so happy that he'd be able to be there for the baby's birth. As she thought that, she placed a hand on the rather pronounced bump that was her belly; the child within still had potentially two or more months until birthing, according to the midwives she'd had caring for her up until now, and they were only a few days of travel away from the city her husband was at.

"Oi!" one of the bandits yelled near the carriage, causing her to flinch even though they hadn't found her yet. "How many of us are left after that fuckin' bloodbath!?"

A voice further away answered, equally as gruff sounding. "Looks like the three of us are it. Tha' bastards put up more of a fight than the boss thought."

"Understatement of the damn year," a third voice quipped, just as near to the carriage as the first one. "C'mon, let's crack this bitch open. I want to see what those cocksuckers were fighting so hard to protect."

Taking in a breath, Maria readied herself. Pregnant or not, she had received magical tutoring like most nobility. Nothing really serious – she didn't even know anything beyond the first tier – but even if all it did was leave them a nasty scar from an acid arrow, she refused to be turned into a hostage without at least wounding them; better to be taken seriously than treated as nothing more than a bargaining chip or ( gods forbid) a plaything.

Hearing one of the thugs start trying to open the door, she gathered the mana needed for her spell, aiming it right for where she estimated the man's head would be.

"Damn thing is tighter than an unpaid whore…" the bandit working on the door said angrily, to the scoff of the one next to him.

"Just keep working. We can't be here too much longer; a carriage this guarded doubtless has a powerful owner waiting on it, never mind that the city still sends out regular patrols."

"I know, I know, just give me-"

"HEY! WE HAVE A VISITOR!" the second bandit yelled from further away, causing the pair outside her door to curse.

"Of course we have another bastard that needs gutting. Probably just a damn farmer too," the first bandit muttered.

The third bandit's response was cut off by a BOOM like thunder, followed by silence, before one of the thugs whispered loud enough for her to catch. "What… what the…"

Anything else he might've said was cut off by a second, even louder BOOM that managed to shake the carriage, causing the blinds to open enough for her to peer outside at what was causing it.

Standing directly in front of the single bandit – wait, where did the second one go? – was a man who she could only describe as foreign: deep red hair, dark tan skin, dark red, almost black armor she didn't recognize, and equally red gauntlets that pulsed with the color of flame between the plating. The fact he wielded no weapon made her think he was a magic caster, were it not for a vaguely pinkish mist next to the lowlife, and as she followed it down, it ended at a set of footprints surrounded by bloody red. A monk or brawler then, the more analytical part of her mind concluded.

The only remaining bandit stood frozen, watching the stranger in what she could only describe as terror, looking a moment away from darting off.

"Wait- Hells, for the love of all the gods, wait! Y-you can have it, just p-please don–HRRMMPH" he yelled, as the stranger picked him up by his face, and with a dispassionate glare from fiery eyes (literally, she realized, as they glowed and swirled with flames surrounding his pupils instead of normal eyes) he said a single thing with such contempt she felt a chill down her back:

"Burn."

"MMMMMM!" and burn the bandit did, his muffled screams turning into gurgles as a flame engulfed his head and then entire body, all while the stranger watched on with something approaching curiosity.

Now, Maria has seen death before. Various public executions, duels – this wasn't even the first time she'd experienced a bandit attack on the roads, never mind monster attacks. But watching a man melted in front of her, and hearing his final cries… if not for the fact she was paralyzed in fear, she probably would have vomited at the sight and smell of burning and liquefying flesh.

Moments after it began, however, the nightmare ended, as the bandit's corpse simply blew off into the wind as ashes once it was fully consumed. The only evidence he ever even existed was a small pile of soot on the ground where he used to be standing.

It was then that she noticed the stranger's burning gaze focused on her through the crack, and she quickly closed it without really thinking.

"My apologies, Miss. I didn't intend for you to see that," he said, his voice being… oddly normal. Not regal and commanding, or cruel and arrogant, simply… normal. If anything, it did more to reassure her than any words he could say.

Finding her own voice, she took in a breath to steady herself, channeling as much gratefulness as she could in hopes it would be enough. "Thank you, kind sir. You saved me from a rather… unfortunate situation."

"It seems so. Though while I understand your caution, it does seem a tad impolite to keep talking to each other through a door."

She flushed in embarrassment at that, not that anyone could see it, and slowly opened the shades. "I am deeply sorry. It was not my intention to be disrespectful."

"Don't worry about it," he said with a charming smile, and foreign features or not, she could admit to him being remarkably handsome despite the gruesome act he'd just carried out moments prior. "Unfortunately, though, it appears you're the only survivor of your caravan."

She felt a pang in her heart at that. Servants and guards they may have been, but each one was loyal to the end, and always made sure to treat her and her husband kindly. "I was afraid of that. Did those brigands at least leave the horses alive?"

The stranger shook his head, causing what little hope she had left to plummet. "They did not. Assuming your carriage had two, one was killed outright, while the other most likely broke free and ran off."

Not having any other ideas, she tried one final question. "I don't suppose you came here on a horse yourself?" She then gestured to her belly, pulling the curtains back fully so he could view the rest of her and not just her head. Upon doing so, she noted how a flash of surprise made its way across his face before it was replaced with concern. "As you can see, I am unable to walk too far lest I hurt the babe."

The stranger gained a pensive look for a moment before his eyes widened, and he nodded to himself. "I might have just the thing. One moment please."

And so she sat back to wait, curious about what he would do. Any initial wariness had dissipated throughout the conversation, as she came to understand he had no intention to hurt either her or her child.

As she watched, she found herself shocked as a small black circle, for lack of a better word, appeared in front of the man, and he reached into it as casually as she would take a sip of tea at home. He even started muttering to himself, not loud enough for her to catch, but enough to make her wonder what exactly he was doing. Eventually though, he pulled a brilliant silver necklace out of the hole with a pleased hum, what appeared to be a tiny white horn strung on it, and handed it to her.

"Here. Put that on. The rest should come to you naturally."

A magical item? She thought with some trepidation. Savior or not, one simply didn't accept any random magical necklace handed to them; there was no telling if it could be cursed, or a means of controlling the wearer. Not having much of a choice, however, she did as told and accepted it from him, placing it around her neck.

As soon as she put it on, she felt the magic within it 'read' her, and instantly she understood what it was. To say she was shocked would be putting it mildly.

"Well? Did it work?" he asked in curiosity, and rather than answer verbally, she instead decided to put it to the test.

Holding up a hand to a mostly empty spot on the road a few paces away from the carriage, she watched as a magic circle formed on the ground, and then worked its way up, a creature coming into being as it did. As it finished, and she saw the glorious white equine in all its majesty, she couldn't help but stare in wonder.

"A unicorn… I thought they were mere myth…" she breathed out, unable to tear her gaze away.

"Huh." Was all her savior said, examining the magical being the same as her. "Looks different from how I remember it. Oh well. You can keep that necklace by the way, I don't really need it. Besides, only a 'pure maiden' can ride one of those, otherwise they're only good for hauling items."

Her eyes nearly bugged out at that, staring at him incredulously. He's just giving me a treasure such as this?! Is he insane!?

Continuing to stare at him as he examined the unicorn, she was forced to arrive at a conclusion: It doesn't matter whether or not he happens to be sane. For now, he is my only choice if I want to make it to the city. *sigh* I should've just stayed at home…

There are many magical forests in the world. Some, like the Great Forest of Tob between Re-Estize and Baharouth, or the Great Forest of Evasha west of the Elf Kingdom, have a long history attached to them. Others are nameless, and with no recorded history, but no less filled with life. In one of those forests, to the south of Crescent Lake, riding the edges of the Elf Kingdom and the southern desert, a creature slowly trudged forward. It had the appearance of a wolf in all but two things: its size, as it was far larger than any normal wolf, and the shadowy dark chains that floated around it, clearly magical in nature.

The creature was a barghest: a voracious monster smarter still than its non-magical cousins, wolves, to say nothing of their increased size, and even more dangerous. This one was a particularly large specimen, putting even other barghests to shame as it stood at the height of a horse, teeth the size of fingers. Except for one issue…

The barghest limped along, letting out a low whine with each step. Its sides were riddled with arrows, but strangely, its back was arrow free. If anything, the most unusual aspect of the beast was that single fact, along with the small bundle of fur and whimpers buried in the thick pelt between the creature's shoulder blades. It had been walking for quite some time now, to the point it was practically exhausted, and with one final shuddering step, it came to a stop.

Its breathing was heavy and labored, and with a groan it turned its head enough to glance at the precious bundle riding on it. Said bundle noticed the attention and peeked its head out to yip at its mother, letting her know the pup was still fine.

Turning her head up into the air, the great beast sniffed the wind, trying to catch whiff of its pursuers. But try as she might, the only scent reaching her nostrils was that of her own blood, and she growled lowly as a result.

Facing forward yet again, the barghest continued to advance into the forest. Or at least, she attempted to, but try as she might, the arrows had done their damage, and she was tired. Taking two more steps, she nearly tripped, and rather than keep moving forward she was forced down by the weight of her own body, panting heavily.

Her pup noticed this, and young as it was, it understood the sound of pain. It jumped from her back and walked around to her muzzle, whimpering and nudging her to get a reaction. Huffing lightly, she licked her pup tenderly, even as her ears perked up at the sound of something ahead of them.

Growling, she nudged her pup to get behind her, slowly and laboriously standing back up. At the last second though, an arrow shifted and cut deeper into one of her hindlegs, forcing out a whimper and making her fall back down. In spite of that, she still glared into the general direction of the noise, the ethereal chains floating around her spinning in agitation, ready to lash out. When she caught the scent of what was approaching her, however, she was… confused.

It smelt of snow, yet warmth; madness, yet joy; death, yet life. It was like nothing she had ever caught scent of before – not even the great sky lizards smelled as such, though mixed into the thing's scent was definitely the smell of fire and age that normally came from the powerful beasts. The mixed scents left her too disoriented to decide what to do, and before she could react, the source of it walked into the clearing.

It looked like a hooman, as the long-eared ones called them, and it was wearing the metal skin that their kind so often did. Yet if the smell and her instincts screaming at her that it was dangerous were to be believed, it was anything but a hooman. The not-hooman paused its stride when it caught sight of her, before glancing behind her, at her pup. This forced a deep growl out of her, even as it pained her simply to make the warning due to the arrows.

Oddly enough, where she expected the not-hooman to either flee in terror, as so many had before, or meet her challenge, instead, all it did was nod slowly and sit down, crossing its legs. She was even more surprised when it pulled meat – succulent, juicy, tender, meat – from out of nowhere, and took a bite of it. Try as she might, but the barghest couldn't help but lick her chops at the food in front of her; it didn't help she was starving after having run for so long.

Before she could think to do anything, her pup yipped, doubtless smelling the meat being presented, and ran out from behind her. The action caused her eyes to widen, but she was too late to catch the young one, and her pup happily darted over to the not-hooman and jumped at it, trying to get the meat. She yipped herself in alarm, again attempting to force her legs to move, but she paused as she heard a strange huffing noise coming from the creature. It smelled of glee now, playfully scratching at her pup and letting him feast on the meat.

Settling back down, still wary but sensing her pup wasn't in any danger, she resigned herself to watching the young one feast. It would need the strength more than she would at this point.

Seemingly noticing her resignation, the not-hooman pulled two more pieces of meat from nowhere, dripping some red liquid onto it from a foggy ball that appeared in its not-paw, and tossed them over in front of her. She stared at the chunks of flesh in surprise for a moment, before glancing at the thing and seeing it was eating a chunk of meat itself. Deciding her hunger was more important than caution, she sniffed at the food, concluded that it was delicious, and grabbed it and swallowed both pieces whole in an instant. While her hunger wasn't fully satiated, it did help, and oddly enough she felt some energy return to her. A few of the arrows stuck in her pelt even began to drop onto the ground, many of her wounds sealing after they did, giving her a very pleasant feeling of relief.

The three of them stayed like that for a good moment, the not-hooman pulling more meat out of the air for them all to eat, and she allowed herself a period to relax, if only slightly. It didn't last long, though, as her hearing picked up the shouts of her pursuers; the cowardly long-ears and their arrows having caught up to her and her pup. She growled at that, standing up with ease now that most of her wounds had been healed by the creature's strange – yet tasty – meat, and rumbled at her pup to get behind her, which he did.

As she prepared to face the long-ears a second time, she heard rustling from the side and turned to growl at whatever it was, chains spinning dangerously. Yet she stopped at seeing the not-hooman carrying one of the long metal claws so many of the two-legs seemed to carry, the claw held in front of it with the point resting on the ground. The pair's eyes met then, and what she saw in the creature's eyes had her reappraising it yet again, for the only thing shown was the gaze of one ready for the hunt. She should know, her mate had that same gaze before his death at the hands of the long-ears the day prior.

Huffing in approval, she faced forward, preparing for whatever tricks the long-ears would use when they finally appeared…

Omake: The Dead Throne

There exists a point of reality that borders the unreal, a checkpoint of sorts between the realm of souls and the living, called simply the Border by the few that know it exists. A place not quite beyond the physical, but close enough that the typical laws governing it tend to… waver. And in that place sits a throne: plain and unadorned, made of cool grey stone that seemed to grow up from the wavering material of semi-solidified primal magic that forms the oddity, said material shifting from fiery or crystalline shades of purples, to reds, to greens, yellows, blacks, and more. The only part that lacked the variety of color was the throne itself.

The occupant of that throne was a seemingly simple skeleton with softly glowing red eyes, cloaked in hooded black robes, the cloth appearing to be weaved from the night sky itself. Nothing else of note was there, except for an odd looking scythe propped against the throne, blade the pattern of wings, the metal it was crafted from still pristine in spite of the general aged appearance it had. One could be forgiven for thinking it was a mere physical weapon and nothing more – no, this was a weapon created for the singular purpose of reaping souls, even moreso than the scythe its design was based on.

This skeleton had been on the throne since it took over the position from the prior occupant countless eons ago. Its purpose? To judge the dead, be they mortal, monster, gods or devils. Death held power over all, for even existence itself would eventually die and be reborn, and the cycle would continue.

Passing judgement on yet another would-be "god" that thought themselves above the rules of death, the skeleton moved on to the next soul. This one was a farmer. He lived a simple life, had a loving family, and died of old age, beloved by all that knew him. And just as with all other souls, he would receive fair judgement.

Before the manifestation of death could reach a conclusion on what to do with the soul, the primordial flame that surrounded its throne flickered briefly, drawing its attention. There were perhaps a total of a dozen entities outside of Death that could freely walk through the flame of existence, so whenever the skeleton received a visitor it was always interesting in one way or another. This particular one was whistling a simple tune, one that the skeleton didn't recognize, but that was unsurprising – it didn't care much for music anymore.

The being that walked through the flame, said flames flaring in purplish red as it did, was a hooded cloaked figure with clear lupine features: a long snout covered in silver grey fur, the pair of legs it was standing on bent at an angle typical of canines, and eyes that glowed a similar red to the skeleton's own. It sported a smirk as it stared at the skeleton, who acknowledged it with a nod.

"Hunter," the skeleton said in greeting with a soothing, slightly masculine voice that was somewhat at odds with its appearance.

"Night," the canine-like figure responded in a scratchy, deep, accented voice, chuckling afterward. "I see you are still admiring the view. How many eternities has it been?"

"I stopped counting," the being called Night answered simply. It was the truth, after all.

"Hah! And here I thought you'd have gotten bored by now and begun going out into reality like the rest of us," Hunter said with a tilt of his head, casually leaning up against the wall of existence around them and crossing his arms.

"Perhaps after a few more millennia. I still haven't found the reality I'm looking for," Night responded, releasing what sounded like a sigh afterwards. "And you? Did you find the soul you were looking for?"

"The cat?" Hunter asked with a grin. "Oh I found him. He proved… interesting. Deserving of his life… for now."

Night hummed in approval. "Good. It's not often a soul wins its right to continue existing from you. He must be quite impressive."

"Maybe. But his future isn't set in eternity just yet–" Hunter was interrupted by a change in the flow of the Border's energy. It was subtle, but any change at all was worth note.

"Ah," Night said while looking at the wall around them, eyes flaring like a red star, "it appears two more have arrived in my old home. One of them even like what I was at first."

"Two candidates from a single reality? And at the same time no less?" Hunter contemplated, his own eyes seemingly reflecting the kaleidoscope of colors that made up the Border as he watched the event unfold. "Now that is rare. And so soon after your initial appearance in that world's perception of time."

"Indeed," was all Night said in response.

Before either could continue the conversation, the primordial flame flickered twice in succession, flashing a multitude of colors, and in walked two more beings. One clad in elaborate robes and holding a cane, yet with a gaunt and skeletal figure, skin stretched over bone and the cartilage of its nose and ears having decayed, a golden lattice covering its face and head. The other was wearing a black suit and top hat, appearing to be a simple man with black hair and a mustache, and carrying itself with a strange sort of confidence and ease.

"Scribe," Night nodded towards the first of the duo. "Stranger," he directed to the second. "I assume you came to witness the arrival of the candidates?"

"Of course," the one called Scribe answered with a rasping, yet somehow still smooth voice. "It is not every day that such a soul comes into Existence, never mind two."

"A rarity, if you will," continued Stranger, hands behind his back. "And such a thing as this tends to happen only once every other reality."

"I suppose I should be thankful more of us didn't come to watch. I dislike it when the throne gets crowded. Very well then, let us see what happens, shall we?" Night questioned, and getting nods in answer, the four Reapers present turned to watch the tale unfold.

Well now, it's been some time. How have you been these past few months, dear reader? Making strides to improve? To learn, create, explore? If so, then good to hear. And if not… well, life happens, so take your time.

As for why this chapter took so long? Well, like I just said: life happens, and more often than not, life can be a pain. But despite that, I'm here now, and am hopefully getting back into it. Personally, I thank the recent obsession with BG3 for inspiring me to work on this again, so blame Larian for making a game that genuinely excites me to play.

Anyway, that wraps up that. What did you think of the chapter? What did you enjoy? Anything that could be improved? What about the inclusion of the omake at the end? Feel free to leave a review; I read them all, and it's good to get the opinions of my audience to make sure my quality isn't dropping.

And with all that said, I hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time! Oh and no cookies this chapter; I got the munchies halfway through. Sorry!