The journey of a thousand steps always starts with one, as someone famous probably said back on Earth. And it was as true as an overly vague saying could ever be. All three of us knew that the beginning would be rough, our bodies and minds used to the comfort of living in one place, perhaps with the exception of Alena who had travelled numerous times—though never so independent from her father.

It was a learning experience for all of us. Mayer had tried to instil a sense of what we’d face with the subjugation quest we’d been sent on, but as soon as it was no longer just a training exercise, things changed rapidly. Suddenly many things that had been a given before were now scarce and potentially in risk of depletion.

We had a large quantity of food, Rethi’s horse—Darksteel—and Alena’s horse—Lily—were both capable of carrying a decent amount of weight each, even if a lot of the weight was other essentials and the food for the horses. The real upside was that I could easily carry an inordinate amount of weight. It had actually become more about what bags I could use to carry as much weight as possible.

In the end, there really weren’t enough supplies to come close to reaching my limits. If I was capable of lifting my hammer and doing anything at all with it, the angles perpetually at my mechanical detriment, I could easily support far more than its weight in bags and supplies.

So, in practice, we were set for quite a while and with how we were likely to be travelling through other towns who have an incentive to buy and sell to travellers and merchants—it was almost impossible that we would end up with absolutely no supplies.

Even if we did end up with no supplies, I can’t say that it’d be all that difficult to hunt or forage for food. I don’t even have to eat, as far as I can tell.

Thus, we continued on without all that much worry, besides that strange mixture of both wonder and excitement with a healthy anxiousness. The first town was barely two days of travel along that path and we didn’t even bother to stop. Aside for buying treats for the horses and ourselves, sharing some of our newfound wealth.

And newfound it was. We hadn’t packed any overt amount of wealth ourselves, content to just use what we had silently accrued over the months we had been receiving pocket money from Mayer. It had been a sizable amount of money, enough to buy a house back in that little nameless town, probably in excess even still.

It was on our second day—when we passed through the neighbouring town and had gone to buy simple bits and pieces that caught the eye—that we had found the mysterious pouch of money at the bottom of Rethi’s bag. A pouch put it to shame, really, it was more of a small bag than anything. It, of course was filled with glittering iron, bronze, silver, and gold.

The math on the money here was simple and without frills, easy enough to translate with a second’s thought. It was probably engineered that way, mainly created to be used by a populace that don’t necessarily have a comprehensive grasp on even simple math, let alone the complexity that comes with a lot of economics.

It starts with hum; which is just a single unit, then smah; which is ten, shim; which is twenty-five, and then ruhk; which is fifty units. There are four levels of currency that are commonly used, iron, bronze, silver, and gold. I had no doubt that there were more levels of currency, but they hardly mattered. Each one-hundred units of the lower material currency is worth one of the material directly superior to it.

So, in a single glance inside that small bag, I counted the gold pieces and racked up somewhere between eighty and one-hundred golden hum total. That was already a monstrous amount of money, far more than I could possibly conceive the use of. Enough to easily start a life somewhere as a rich benefactor to a small village, much like Mayer himself.

Kicker was, that each of us received such a bag, sitting at the near bottom of our packs, cleverly hidden and disguised amongst other supplies and components. I think all of us had half a mind to turn on our heel and march all the way back to Mayer’s home, just to shove the ridiculous amount of money we were gifted with right back in his face.

Though we didn’t, obviously. None of us were naive enough to believe that—with the goals we were working towards—we wouldn’t find a use for this money, and that it wouldn’t find a way to evaporate out of our pockets if we weren’t careful. All of us were powerful, and we all had the distinct capability to make an inordinate amount of money on short notice, but not this much money.

Even Alena, who had been kept in the dark as to what Rethi and I were and what we were seeking to do—to the vocal discontent of her boyfriend—knew that this money would come in dire need. Sooner rather than later, more than likely.

It was the third or fourth day that we told Alena the truth. That I was a Demigod; possibly the closest thing to an actual God upon Virsdis or Orisis, and that Rethi was a Divine warrior; the lineage of which holds a warrior so ancient that he had become legend and Mayer Renue himself.

There had been surprise, and even some anger—mostly at the idea that we hadn’t trusted her with this information sooner. But when we told her about the Champions, where I had actually come from and the war that would once again bring tragedy to the world like it had only seventy years prior, her feelings on the matter mellowed considerably.

Surprisingly, she took it well. Past the initial surprise, then doubt—which was quickly allayed by proof of our links to the Divine—she quickly became another valuable source of advice and just another sharp mind to help our cause.

When I looked inside her emotions, mostly in an attempt to make sure that she was actually okay, I found that she was stalwart. That strength I had seen bloom in front of my eyes the day before was already being put to use. It was admirable, she had been so afraid of herself, and would have no doubt been just as afraid of Rethi and myself—if she had known what we truly are.

Now, she accepted the reality bending information with grace. It was no doubt helped by the fact that we had never expressly lied to her about any information, just withheld. Within her mind, I could just about hear the puzzle pieces snap together; situations that had taken place right in front of her now had the correct context, and all of them fit snugly into the larger picture.

It felt great to have Alena brought into the fold. She may be quick to anger, easily frustrated and more, but her mind was sharp. From an early age she had been taught with the express purpose to partake in the highest echelons of medical knowledge and practice. You’d be surprised just how much understanding that provided her with.

Excellent mathematical skills, critical thinking, creative thinking, and many skills to complement those highly developed mindsets. If I were to be honest, Alena was likely a good deal more intelligent—or at least more knowledgeable—than myself. If she had been exposed to the resources that I had available to me back on Earth? I had no contest.

Another benefit to bringing Alena into the fold; Rethi and I could go much harder in sparring. To the point where Rethi could use Hindle and I could use my own Soul Weapon without fear of immediate death.

Of course, we weren’t so gung-ho that we’d actually use the Divine aspects to our weapons. Rethi could probably kill me if he managed to hit me with everything he had. Though, he had explained what he’d need to do to pull it off, and it was essentially only something that would ever hit someone who was legitimately frozen for half a minute or more.

My own hammer was much riskier to put in play. While Rethi could probably shrug off most injuries, even grievous ones, it was still possible to kill him by non-Divine means. Though I’d have to mulch his brain or do a comparable amount of damage.

It all came down to me just being careful, which I already was. The extra care would diminish the benefits I’d receive from being able to go all out, like Rethi was able to. But it would only help Rethi’s own skill and power grow—hopefully to where he is capable of shrugging off mortal wounds.

Through this, Alena’s growth soared as well. As the days passed and Rethi and I continued to accrue more and more obscure injuries, Alena only became more adept with repairing them. She still failed a good portion of the time, hence why I would be the test subject for anything potentially risky and Rethi would only receive healing when the risk was very low, or she had already figured it out on me.

On more than a few occasions she’d had the chance to repair significant brain injuries on me. Most of which failed, one even going so poorly that the sudden explosive growth of tissue forced my eyes out of their sockets and sending me unconscious. I was awake and conscious only seconds later, entirely fine with two teenagers looking at me with thoroughly disturbed expressions. Which I found particularly rich, coming from Rethi—the boy who had no hesitations in going for my eyes and testicles at any chance.

Regardless of the fanfare, Alena was able to make it clear that healing brains was exceptionally difficult. She wasn’t able to definitively explain why, even after multiple attempts—but it was at least mostly self-explanatory. It was the brain, an organ so complex that even Earth civilisations could only do the scientific equivalent of banging two rocks together and seeing what happened. The brain is as much a mystery to Earth’s modern science as it seemed to be for Alena, with the distinction that Alena had already successfully repaired my brain after a concussion.

Just one more thing to add to the list of what Alena could potentially do.

After the establishment of our routine, the days began to blur together, consisting mostly of walking or training—or both. Most of the scenery remained unchanged, and the only excitement consisted of the new town we walked through about every other day to a week.

The travel had been wearing holes in my two companions. Even their horses looks like they desperately needed a break. Both companions, their horses included, were too stubborn to say that they wanted nothing more than to rest within a town for a day or two, after what had become a few weeks of pure travel.

So, when I saw the beginnings of a town start to surround the road, I had already decided we were going to say the night, at least. When that very same road slowly became more and more maintained, rather than the beaten and pothole filled mess it had been for the duration of our trip—even I began to get excited.

Around us, buildings went from ramshackle homes—much like those you could find in our little old town—to homes built by clearly experienced and funded tradesmen. As we progressed, the houses lost some of their individuality, built instead to home needy families. To keep them warm when the coldest nights come out to hunt for the weakest prey they can find.

The standard of living only further increased from there, the homes instead becoming about light amounts of comfort—then comfort in excess. As we moved it became clear that this wasn’t town, but a city. The houses and stores that lined the main streets became a contest of the finest craftsmanship, of excess comfort in excess. Each storefront specifically designed to inspire wonder and the need to pull out your wallet.

At this point I was just amazed at the stark difference between the road we had been walking on and the sudden appearance of a city that—by all means—was a bit of a mecca for trade and services.

As we finally made it to the centre of the city, after thirty minutes of walking, we found the centre of it all. It was shaped like a cross, two roads intersecting, surrounded by a large open area, lined with stores hawking their best wares. In the bulk of the open space hundreds of street stalls were set up, selling anything from food to clothing. As all three of us slowly turned and stared wide-eyed at the sights—now feeling thoroughly like country bumpkins—I let out a wry chuckle.

“Well, I can’t say that any of these places are quite as nice as Mayer’s home…” which was truthful, in an odd was. The old warrior’s home was meticulously crafted for what was likely an exorbitant fee. The stores that surrounded the town-square-come-market certainly gave the man’s home a run for its money, but they just weren’t quite on the same level.

“But…” I began slowly, hooking the attention of my companions, “How do you guys feel about sticking around here for a couple of days, hey?” My sly words were met with the faces of two very happy teenagers.