The journey to Aetheria Kingdom began with high hopes. After months of being cooped up as the lord of Silver Town, this was my chance to step out, breathe the open air, and experience the freedom I had envisioned when I first came to this world. No more endless meetings, no more staring at mana crystal balance sheets, and definitely no more stifling castle walls. This was supposed to be my adventure—a caravan ride, new faces, and a fresh beginning.
Yet, the reality of it all was far from what I had imagined.
The caravan was enormous this time, thanks to my "generosity." It had grown tenfold in size, bustling with new faces, equipment, and goods. Barns had overseen the expansion, and while his innovations had been remarkable, they only served to highlight my growing isolation.
Even Barns himself had stopped bringing his ideas directly to me. Perhaps my enthusiasm—or, more likely, my knack for throwing gold at problems—had overwhelmed him.
When we finally set out, I boarded one of the caravans, trying to blend in. Chloe, Barns's potion-testing prodigy, was the only familiar face. The rest of the caravan crew avoided me like the plague, their conversations dropping to awkward silences whenever I approached.
---
Inside the cramped confines of the caravan, the unease was palpable.
"Why is he even here?" someone whispered, their voice barely audible yet still betraying their discomfort.
"I don't know, but I can't breathe properly when he's around. It's like he's watching me, even when he's not," another added.
Chloe tried to soothe the rising tension. "He's not that bad. Sure, he's... intense, but he means well."
The others weren't convinced. "Chloe, you're saying that because you've benefited from the mana potions. Do you remember the last time someone mede captain cry? He didn't even yell, but Captain Shina cried! And she's the captain!"
At that, Chloe looked away, a small shiver running down her spine. The memory of Shina's rare moment of vulnerability silenced everyone.
Finally, someone muttered, "We need to do something. Six days like this? I can't."
That's when the suggestion came.
---
Later, as I lay on the plush bed they'd prepared for me—a bed far too luxurious for caravan life—I overheard faint murmurs. Shina had returned from the lead caravan and stepped inside.
"Why are you here?" I asked, half-asleep.
She hesitated. "They thought... it might be better if I stayed here for a while."
I frowned but didn't press further. It wasn't hard to guess what had happened. My presence, despite my best intentions, had turned the lively caravan into a tightrope walk of fear and awkwardness. The same people who'd benefited from my gold and mana crystals now tiptoed around me like I was a monster.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine." The conversation was short and ended there , i didn't bother trying.
Shina sat quietly in the corner of the caravan, her cheerful demeanor replaced by a stoic calm that mirrored Lucia's. That cheerful spark I'd always admired was gone, snuffed out by her sense of duty—or maybe something else entirely.
---
The caravan continued its journey under an oppressive cloud of silence. Outside, the world was alive with the sounds of wheels creaking, animals trotting, and merchants shouting. Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating. Even Chloe, who had tried her best to defend me, avoided eye contact.
I tried to break the silence, joking lightly. "I wonder if Silver Town will survive without me. I left enough mana crystals, right? Lucia's smart; she'll figure it out."
Shina didn't respond. She simply nodded, her expression unreadable.
For the first time in a long while, I felt the weight of my isolation. Here I was, surrounded by people whose livelihoods depended on me, and yet, not a single one of them could look me in the eye without flinching.
By the time we reached Stonewidge City in Aetheria Kingdom, I was exhausted—not physically, but emotionally.
---
After paying the toll and exchanging a few words with Shina, I made the decision to part ways with the caravan.
"Thank you for your company," I said, forcing a smile.
Shina opened her mouth as if to say something but stopped. She simply nodded, her gaze lingering for a moment before turning back to the others.
As I walked into the city alone, I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. This was supposed to be my escape, my grand adventure. Instead, it had turned into a journey filled with uneasy glances, forced conversations, and the growing realization that perhaps, in their eyes, I wasn't their lord—I was a looming shadow, a presence they couldn't escape from.
Reflecting on everything, I joked bitterly to myself, "Maybe I've been too emotional lately. Or maybe it's time to cry."
The joke didn't land—not even in my own head.
The bustling market had been a whirlwind of energy, yet one sight brought me to an abrupt halt—a boy, no older than ten, arguing with a merchant. Dressed in noble attire, he radiated an air of confidence, bordering on entitlement, as he demanded to be given an item for free, claiming to be the count's son.
The boy's demeanor, his sharp voice, his bold stance—it tugged at a memory I'd buried deep. The more I looked at him, the more I saw her reflected in him, like a shadow of a past I'd tried so hard to forget.
I approached the scene, curiosity outweighing my usual disinterest in other people's drama. "I'm sorry for my nephew's actions here," I said to the merchant, though the boy wasn't my nephew. "How much does that cost? I'll pay for it."
The merchant, eyeing me warily, replied, "100 gold."
Without hesitation, I handed over the gold, not even flinching at the exorbitant price. I then turned to the boy, who stared at me with a mix of defiance and curiosity.
"Let's have a chat... shall we?" I offered, my voice calm but firm.
"Alright," he agreed, surprising me with his audacity. But before following me, he turned to a young girl standing nearby and handed her the item—a delicate trinket, no doubt something precious to her. "Here, don't lose it again, okay?" he said softly. The girl nodded and disappeared into the crowd without a word.
I didn't pry further. That small moment told me everything I needed to know—this kid wasn't the spoiled brat he seemed at first glance. He had layers, just like her.
Despite my curiosity, I marveled at his bravery. A child agreeing to follow a stranger like me? I wouldn't have dared at his age, no matter how noble my lineage.
We ended up at a modest hotel, where I ordered food for the two of us. He broke the silence first, his voice laced with curiosity and suspicion.
"Who are you?"
"Lord Ace," I declared, my tone shifting to one of pride. "Ruler of the Silver City, protected by a mighty dragon for fifty years."
The boy tilted his head, thinking for a moment before slamming his hands together in realization. "Oh! I know that place! Isn't it a town?"
I couldn't help but chuckle, though his words stung a little. "No, it's a city now. You wouldn't believe how fast it's transformed, even if you saw it for yourself."
But he seemed unimpressed, his attention drifting elsewhere. I grinned, leaning forward. "Hey, wanna see a coliseum?"
"A coliseum?" he repeated, skeptical.
"Yes. And not just any coliseum—it's made entirely of mana crystals."
"You're lying," he shot back immediately.
"No, I'm not," I countered, enjoying the playful banter that followed. For the first time in weeks, my mood lifted. Even if this kid didn't believe a word I said, it felt good to boast. A distraction, perhaps, but one I desperately needed.
Our food arrived, and we ate in companionable silence. He eventually introduced himself as Kyle Lionheart, son of Count Cale Lionheart. After the meal, Kyle insisted on taking me somewhere—a local arena.
The sight of two knights battling on stage filled the air with excitement, and Kyle pointed toward one corner of the arena. "Look, that's Mom and Dad."
I turned my gaze, and my heart froze.
There she was.
The woman I'd spent years trying to forget. Her face, her demeanor—it hadn't changed. She still exuded the kindness that had once drawn me in, the warmth that had felt like a sanctuary. It was as if time hadn't touched her.
Kyle's mother.
I stood there, frozen in place, while the memories I'd tried to bury surged back like an unrelenting tide.