I stared at the robe draped across my chair, feeling a surge of pride swell within me. For a fleeting moment, I truly felt like a king. In this world, when I called for someone, they appeared immediately, as though reality itself bent to my whims.
It was surreal. Me? The same guy who, in my previous life, specialized in running away from problems? Now I could summon the mightiest warriors, command armies, and wield mythical relics like they were spare change.
As I basked in this heady mix of amusement and disbelief, Karina, the ever-fearsome hero, strode into the room. Behind her followed a gaggle of grade 3 warriors, their postures noticeably tense.
"Going for training today as well?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, my tone casual.
Karina smirked, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "This lazy ass dares question me, a grade 4 assassin? Cute. No, my lord, I'm off to teach these kids a little lesson."
From the back of the group, Freya, a young archer with wide eyes and a quivering bow, suddenly spoke up, her voice tinged with panic. "'Yusha,' we only said your trainings are a bit... extreme!"
Karina turned her gaze to Freya, her smirk widening into something far more menacing. "It is what it is. Now, move along, soldiers."
Freya's face turned pale as Karina turned on her heel, leading the group of nine unlucky souls away with a laugh.
I watched them disappear down the corridor, their groans of despair barely muffled by the walls. Waving them off lazily, I muttered a silent prayer for their souls. "Good luck, my grade 3s. May you return stronger... or at least alive."
With nothing urgent demanding my attention, I made my way toward the castle under construction, humming softly to myself.
The castle loomed in the distance, a towering monument to ambition and chaos. The walls, half-formed, were an eclectic mix of smooth, polished mana crystals and jagged, unfinished edges. Scaffolding sprawled along its sides like the webs of an overambitious spider. Masons and laborers bustled about, their voices a steady chorus of shouting and hammering.
At its core, the castle's grand hall was beginning to take shape. Massive arched doorways framed with intricate carvings hinted at the opulence to come. The floors, though littered with rubble and dust, glimmered faintly under the sunlight filtering through gaps in the roof. Above, beams crisscrossed like skeletal ribs, holding up what would one day be a magnificent domed ceiling.
Despite its incomplete state, I could already envision the finished product. This would be no mere fortress—it would be the beating heart of my city, a symbol of my power and the dreams I intended to build here.
As I strolled through the site, I caught sight of a carpenter balancing precariously on a beam, shouting at his apprentice below. "No, no, you idiot! The phoenix motif goes up, not sideways! Do you want our lord to think we're amateurs?"
I chuckled softly to myself. "He's not wrong. I'd definitely notice."
Pausing near the central staircase—currently just a jagged incline of mana crystals—I imagined the grand hallway leading to my throne room. One day, it would echo with the sound of visitors from every corner of the world, seeking my aid, my favor, or perhaps my ire.
And perhaps, a running Rem.
But for now, it was just a construction site, a testament to the work still left to do. I brushed some dust off my sleeve, shaking my head with a wry smile. "Rome wasn't built in a day, but at least they didn't have to deal with phoenix-themed carpentry."
With that thought, I turned back toward the city, leaving the future to unfold brick by brick, phoenix feather by phoenix feather.
Leaving the construction site, my thoughts drifted to my next destination: the ever-so-beautiful Lady Lucia. Not that I had any questionable plans in mind, of course. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what she thought of me. A genius ruler? A benevolent benefactor? Or just a walking gold vault with a penchant for insanity? Probably the last one, knowing her.
As I strolled down the bustling street, something unusual caught my attention. Barns, one of my more competent subordinates, was speaking in an unusually respectful tone to a woman. Intrigued, I quickened my pace.
But the closer I got, the more something felt off. Her ears—long, pointed, elegant. Her posture—graceful, almost ethereal. Her entire presence screamed otherworldly beauty.
"Elves?" I murmured, my curiosity piqued. Then, as the realization fully dawned on me, my voice escalated. "HOLY—WHAT?!"
Both Barns and the woman flinched at my sudden outburst, but I didn't care. I marched right up to her, my eyes locked on those unmistakable ears.
Without thinking, I reached out and gently touched them. They were soft, smooth, and warm—an entirely unexpected texture.
"Since when did this world have elves?" I muttered aloud, more to myself than anyone else. "Then again, there are already dragons, so I guess elves shouldn't be that surprising…" My fingers, seemingly possessed, continued to trace the curve of her ear.
"My lord," Barns stammered, his face a mix of shock and mortification, "she's… she's my master."
"Oh, and?" I asked absentmindedly, still fascinated. Then it hit me like a thunderbolt. My hands froze, and a wave of horror washed over me.
"What the hell am I doing?!" I shouted, slapping both sides of my face with my hands for emphasis.
Scrambling to salvage the situation, I reached into my pouch and pulled out a dragon heart—yes, a dragon heart—and handed it to her with both hands. "Take this! I'm so sorry for my behavior. I don't know what came over me!"
The elf stared at me, utterly flabbergasted. Her emerald-green eyes flickered between the dragon heart and my sheepish face. I wasn't sure if she was more shocked by the apology or the fact that I had just casually handed her one of the rarest items in existence.
Meanwhile, Barns gawked at the scene, his jaw practically scraping the ground. "My lord," he finally managed to choke out, "isn't that… isn't that Lady Yin Xie's dragon heart?"
"Huh? No, no!" I waved him off, trying to sound convincing. "This one's just a replica. Even Miss Extort—I mean, Lady Yin Xie—says it's an excellent replacement for alchemists. Totally not hers."
Barns raised an eyebrow but said nothing, wisely choosing not to question my story.
The elf finally found her voice, her tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You apologize... and offer a dragon heart as compensation? Do you realize the absurdity of what you've just done?"
"Look," I said, rubbing the back of my neck, "I'm really sorry".
Touching a stranger's ears without permission? That's weird. Really weird. Even among acquaintances, it's… it's just not something you do!
The elf held the dragon heart delicately, her lips twitching as if suppressing a laugh. "Well, you're certainly… unique."
Barns sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Unique is one way to describe it."
I groaned inwardly, silently praying that this incident wouldn't haunt me forever. Though, knowing my luck, it probably would.