After half a day of journey on horseback, Deon and Sir Edmund finally arrived at the royal capital.
Mikael, who had haunted in this world for two months, thought that he had a good grasp of their culture and civilization.
However, the capital, Vartena, was vastly different from the rural village that he knew.
It was loud and colorful—a great contrast to the village's tranquility.
The busy streets were filled with bustling shoppers. Numerous glass windows showcased a wide range of various goods. From children's toys to women's jewelry to gentlemen's weapons and armor. On one side, several carriages decorated with silver crests parked in front of a lavish boutique. Gorgeous noblewomen, accompanied by knights, boarded carriages and sped away while further ahead were lines of pastry shops boasting multilayered cakes and confectionaries.
Despite the foot traffic, the people quickly made way for Prince Deon as he rode on his black horse. It was like traveling on the express lane. Knowing the face of their monarch, the citizens just bowed their heads as Deon passed.
Mikael noticed that the cobblestone pavements were littered with confetti, so he asked, "What? Is there a festival?"
"No. just the opening ceremony for the yearly hunting competition," Deon answered like it was obvious.
"A hunting competition? will you participate?" Mikael wondered.
He was reluctant to dive into dangerous quests now that he partnered up with Deon. After all, Deon's survival is equivalent to his own so he was afraid that hunting with their current capabilities is akin to going to war unarmed. Mikael thought that he had to train Deon in a safe environment until he was strong enough not to die from mobs.
"The royal family just hosts the competition. Only mercenaries, knights, and combat Almagi join it." Deon replied, sensing the unease in Mikael's voice.
"Almagi? What's that?" Mikael asked after hearing an unfamiliar word.
"Almagi are people who studied Almagology. Combat Almagi use their blood as ink to draw mana circles that turn mana in the air into elemental attacks… there are also artisan Almagi but they mainly go into artifact production using mana crystals." Deon explained before realizing something, "Wait, don't tell me you don't have Almagi in your previous world?! How the hell do you fight monsters or create artifacts?!"
"First of all, we didn't have monsters. Second, we had technology." Mikael replied.
He then eagerly asked about Almagi before they got off track. He wanted to learn more about this strange world that he will inhabit. Mikael was certain that even in this world, knowledge is power that he can wield in tight situations.
"Are they the same as magicians? Are they strong? Why do they draw blood? Does it have to be blood?"
Mikael's rapid-fire questions gave Deon a headache, "W-wait! Calm down, Sir! Let me answer them one at a time!"
"Fine." Mikael pouted.
"Okay so… umm… I don't know what you mean by a magician so I'll skip that. Next, are they strong? Yes. absolutely. An average Almagi is known to have combat potential of ten common soldiers, BUT that's only for long-range fights. Since they use their own blood to battle, Almagi are mostly anemic so if their enemy manages to come close, they'll definitely be in danger." Deon briefly catches his breath before continuing his lengthy explanation, "why blood? From what I know blood has the highest known mana purity. They can also use mana crystals that have lower purity but then the attack power would be weaker."
'Then they are indeed magicians…' Mikael thought to himself before asking his final question "Do you need innate mana affinity to become an Almagi? Like those cliché animes?"
"Huh? No. hahaha! That is ridiculous! Everyone has the potential to become a combat Almagi. You simply need a brilliant mind to memorize numerous complex mana circle configurations, meticulousness bordering on obsessive compulsion to correctly concoct blood ink, and, most crucially, masochism."
Deon's cheerful tone belies the seriousness of his statements.
'So they're a cross between an alchemist and a magician? Wow. Whoever came up with the name Almagi deserves a prize. That's brilliant.' Mikael grimaced in sarcasm, "By the way, where is the hunt?"
"It changes every year depending on the need, but usually, the competition is held on the mountain range north of the kingdom."
"What do you mean by changing depending on the need?"
"To say it simply, they hunt in areas with increasing monster population. It is like a yearly subjugation campaign where we reward hunters with gold depending on their catch. For commoners vying for knighthood, this also serves as a promotion exam since if they distinguish themselves in the competition, the king may directly offer them a place in the military. The same goes for Almagi. They are mostly commoner students so before they graduate, they join the hunts to get scouted by the nobles attending the event." Deon elaborated.
"Ahh… So, this is just like a job fair huh…" Mikael nodded in understanding. Then his eyebrows scrunched as he thought of their implications, "But wouldn't that mean participants can just steal other's hunt and claim it as their own?"
Deon paused as if he never even considered it. "Well, I'm sure our people wouldn't do that. They care too much about their honor, You see?" He nonchalantly answered.
'Tsk' Mikael clicked his tongue. he internally thought that Deon was way too naïve. He realized that the young prince's judgment was flawed. He easily regarded spirits like Deon as bad and his people as good.
But Mikael knew this was not always the case. As someone whose life was dragged in the mud after experiencing bliss, Mikael was forced to face the ugly reality that people, regardless of their social standing, will always want to get ahead of their peers. Especially so in competitions, the desire to drag down rivals becomes second nature. But Mikael also understood why Deon thought that way as he, too, once saw the world with rose-tinted glasses. Nevertheless, he mentally added correcting Deon's naivety in his to-do list.
'It doesn't concern us anyway so, let's just forget about the competition for now.' Mikael dismissed his worries as he continued to look around the capital.
Luxurious mansions lined the main street, their tall gates seemingly shooing away anything that taints their prestige. At the intersection was a huge marble fountain where a sculpted spearman riding a rearing horse gallantly stood, the plume of its helmet spewing clear water.
Everywhere he looked, symbols of wealth sparkled in his eyes, 'As I thought, being rich is the most important.' Mikael smiled contentedly as he forgave Deon for his shortcomings.
Minutes later, high walls loomed before them with stiff knights guarding the palace gates.
Before they could even come close, the guards opened the black metal gates and ushered them inside.
"Welcome back, your highness." They respectfully bowed.
Mikael thought their behavior was too lax as he knew that Deon had snuck out. Then again, who can admonish a prince? 'tch! It's this spoiled environment that made Deon naïve. This won't do. Someone has to correct his wrongs.'
As Mikael was thinking of ways to turn Deon from a sloppy Prince to a charismatic hero, their group entered the palace grounds and rode past the wide gardens full of blossoming roses and a large maze with walls of greenery.
"Your highness, I shall take my leave to report to the captain. Would you like me to take your horse to the stables?" Sir Edmund asked with an impassive face.
"Yes. Please do so." Deon replied as he unmounted and handed the reins to the guard.
As if eager to ditch the prince, Sir Edmund hurriedly went away with Deon's black stallion in tow.
An old butler greeted Deon by the door, "Your highness, the king asked for your presence at tonight's dinner."
Deon stiffened, his heart pounding on his chest after hearing the butler's words. The old man saw this change in the prince's expression and softly smiled, "There's still two hours before dinner. Would you like me to prepare a scented bath, your highness? It will help to calm your nerves."
Deon schooled his expression and replied, "Thank you, Sebastian."
However, even as he walked in the wide halls toward his room, Deon's heart kept thumping 'Why? Why does father want to see me? And how did he know when I'll be coming home?... Did Sir Edmund report my movements? Argh!'
The little courage he had mustered by acting rebellious had flown out the window as soon as he thought of the King.
A/N: Mikael's musings are not accurate representations of the real world. I know that people can be kind, can have healthy mindsets, and do not always wish to drag others down.
Again, these narrations are from Mikael's perspective.
And so, the story of a depressed adult with a gloomy world perspective and a naïve youth with an inferiority complex continues…]