The next day, they quickly packed their tents and resumed their journey. They now approached the road leading to Barony Town. There would be an intersection before the town, one path they needed to take.
Arvind mocked the baron from the traditional faction in the Kingdom, who was supposed to maintain this road as a connecting point to the count's territory. Instead, it was left to the forest, much like a national highway left to decay.
"Hm," Arvind mused as he looked at the passing forest. Suddenly, the carriage halted. Surprised, he turned to Anika with confusion in his eyes and heard commotion outside.
"Anika, go check what happened outside," he instructed her.
"Yes, my lord," she replied as she stepped outside.
Anika saw the knights in a defensive stance, serious expressions on their faces. A bad feeling grew inside her. "What may have happened?" she wondered. Approaching one of the knights, she asked, "Can you tell me what happened here?"
"Miss Anika, Sir Aldric is helping a caravan ahead fight off dire wolves. Before leaving, he instructed us to stay defensive. I advise you and my lord to remain inside the carriage," the knight explained.
A sense of dread filled Anika as she rushed back to inform Arvind. "My lord, Aldric is fighting dire wolves. He instructed us to stay inside," she said, anxious.
Startled by Anika's sudden entry and news, Arvind felt a flush of anger. 'Damn,' he thought.
Inside the kingdom, he gritted his teeth at the nobles and himself for feeling helpless.
"My lord, I advise you to wait for Aldric to return," Anika said.
"Don't worry, Anika, I won't make any rash decisions," Arvind reassured her. She felt relieved, grateful that he was not a reckless young noble.
Shankar, meanwhile, comforted the commoners who followed them, hoping for Aldric's victory.
As the fight intensified, they felt vibrations under their feet. A roar pierced the air, then silence. Arvind's heart nearly stopped as he waited for Aldric to return.
After several tense moments, Aldric reappeared, and everyone sighed in relief.
"Everyone, we and the caravan have killed them. We can resume the journey," Aldric announced to the convoy.
Arvind sighed in relief, hearing Aldric's confirmation.
As they moved on, Arvind saw the aftermath of the battle—grass mixed with blood, claw marks on tree trunks, and broken swords. The place seemed to have been cleared by a bulldozer, with lingering pressure and the smell of blood. He felt an urge to vomit.
His face turned pale. 'How powerful! I also want to become stronger,' he thought.
Nightfall brought a sense of relief as they set up camp to spend the night. Tomorrow, he would step into his territory.
---
As the sun rose above the horizon, casting its warm light across the land, Arvind felt a quiet sense of anticipation.
It had been a month since he set out on his journey to his new territory, and the dawn marked his first crossing into lands he would now call his own.
After a quick breakfast, they packed their belongings, leaving only the ashes of their campsite as evidence of their passing.
The carriage traveled forward along the bumpy road, each jolt a reminder of the backwardness he was inheriting.
Soon, they crossed into his barony, and the path grew worse—overgrown with tangled roots and unruly vegetation that seemed to reclaim it with ease.
His knights were forced to draw their swords, hacking at the brush to clear a way for the convoy's slow progress.
Arvind sighed, feeling the weight of the world's inadequacies. In his former world, roads were never left to ruin; even the most remote village could be reached with ease, a testament to a more advanced society.
Resolute, he silently vowed to repair these roads and bring prosperity here—just as he had seen it flourish in his former world.
By noon, when the convoy slowed for lunch, he stepped out to stretch, absorbing the wild landscape surrounding him. Towering mountains rose in the distance, dense forests pressed close, and rivers threaded through valleys in pristine quiet.
It was a scene both hauntingly beautiful and untamed by industry. He couldn't help but admire the rawness of it, yet he knew that sacrifices were required for progress. Like entropy, he mused, development demanded change, and if he had to choose, he'd always opt for growth.
Lunch preparations began with an efficient, practiced routine. Arvind watched the familiar bustle as his maid, Anika Windham, approached, her hands full of utensils. She flashed a bright smile when she reached him.
"Good afternoon, Master. Lunch will be ready soon. Please, take a seat, and I'll serve you shortly," she said warmly.
Arvind returned her smile, his gratitude evident. "Thank you, Anika. No need for formality—just prepare as you need."
As she moved away, he took in her figure with quiet appreciation. Anika, meanwhile, focused on her work.
Arvind's gaze turned to his butler, Shankar Stonefield, a dignified figure standing nearby, overseeing the convoy's rest.
Shankar was tall, with dark hair streaked with silver, his posture as unyielding as his sense of duty.
His face bore the quiet marks of age, and his sharp, steady brown eyes held a wisdom that spoke of years of loyalty and experience.
To Arvind, Shankar was more than just a servant; he was a mentor in nobility's nuanced ways—a silent guide in matters of etiquette, leadership, and self-restraint.
Although Shankar rarely shared details of his past, Arvind sensed his knowledge stretched far beyond the castle walls. In moments of crisis, his calm presence reassured Arvind as he faced the unknown.
Shankar's loyalty ran deeper than duty. He had served Arvind's mother faithfully, a bond that now extended to her son.
Through her illness, he had been there, attending to Arvind's needs in the family's darkest hours. His steady presence felt like a pledge—support offered not from obligation but from belief in Arvind's potential.
As he organized the convoy's rest stop, Shankar observed his young master from a respectful distance, his expression calm. Arvind had grown since he was a boy, yet in many ways, he remained the same—a young man striving to find his place in a demanding world.
Shankar concealed the hints of pride he felt as he watched Arvind embrace his new responsibilities, silently acknowledging his young master's progress.
Memories of the early years surfaced—when Arvind's mother entrusted him with her son's well-being. She had known he would need someone to guide him, someone to protect him.
And over the years, Shankar had come to see the boy as more than a noble to serve. The bond they shared was unspoken, yet steadfast, shaped through quiet conversations, rigorous training, and shared hardship.
The road to Arvind's barony led through desolate lands, bordering the treacherous Warcraft Forest, far from the capital's protection.
It was a place where only the strong would thrive. Arvind, with his youth and unproven abilities, would face steep challenges here, and Shankar was prepared to guide him, navigating the complexities of leadership, politics, and survival.
Shankar's loyalty to Arvind was resolute. He saw his master's flaws—his inexperience, his occasional doubt—yet he glimpsed a resolve, an inner strength waiting to unfold.
The journey ahead would be harsh, but Shankar had faith in Arvind's potential, even if it was buried beneath uncertainty.
As he watched Arvind in this quiet moment, Shankar felt an unusual sense of purpose. He was not only here to serve; he was here to ensure Arvind would become the leader his mother believed he could be.
With each trial they would face together, Shankar pledged to remain by Arvind's side, providing the steady support his young master would need to rise to his destiny.