Highmane was the castle on the west end of Galdo City. It acted as the last military stronghold before the Swora Oligarchy’s borders. Arlan was riding with Duke Reeve through the north gate of Galdo City. Arlan was filled with curiosity as they entered.

Galdo City was at least three miles square and surrounded by walls. Two-story quaint buildings decorated the city with a few unique buildings. The city was bustling with commoners, adventurers, merchants, and soldiers alike.

What intrigued Arlan the most was that not everyone was human. There were elves with long ears, dwarves hauling carts, and even a few lizard-like beastmen. As they continued at a trotting pace, the residents would move out of the way of the Duke’s entourage.

The magnificent metropolitan felt like a maze after a minute of riding. Galdo City was separated into five districts. Each district was named after the cardinal direction but in the middle was the Market District.

It took five minutes to arrive at the western district where Highmane was located. The fortress walls were several meters taller than the ones that encompassed the city. Three massive battlements looked west into the Dolaga Fields. These towers displayed the defensive power Highmane held. In the center though was the main hall.

The Duke, accompanied by Arlan and the Heracul Knights, made it through the main gate an hour before sundown. Upon arrival, servants came out to lead the dark stygian back into their stables. Lord Commander Jermain appeared and reported to the Duke. “Your Grace, Ser Trent is recovering well at the Galdo Ministry. The rest of the knights will be dismissed once returned.”

“Well done,” answered Duke Reeve as he ushered Arlan forward. “Jermain, this is Arlan. He was the missing orphan from the wagon. Arlan is the one responsible for wiping out that goblin raiding company-”

“Excuse my insolence, Your Grace! But this young boy wiped out a goblin raiding company?” Jermain interrupted the Duke. Everyone in the courtyard immediately stopped and looked over.

“Let the gods be the witness that I would not lie. Everyone is to treat Arlan as my personal guest.” declared the Duke. Everyone was shocked that a personal guest would be an orphan commoner. The Duke motioned for the head butler and said, “Norman, make Arlan presentable for dinner.” Then the Duke turned to Arlan. “Get cleaned up. Follow Norman.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” said Arlan as he bowed. Norman was a tall older butler who moved like he was gliding and had elegance. Everyone resumed their duties in the courtyard but murmuring could be heard as the Duke left the courtyard for the main hall.

“This way, Master Arlan.” directed Norman as they ascended into the guest hall. Highmane was even more gargantuan once inside. They traveled through a spiral staircase large enough for multiple people. Finally, the pair stopped on the third floor and made their way into the first guest room. Another six rooms lined up down the hall. Highmane was separated into six different sections. Each section had multiple floors. The main hall had the most, with nine floors. Highmane was practically its own small town within Galdo City.

Guestrooms were lavishly decorated and held many luxuries an orphanage room couldn’t compare to. A king-sized bed was the room’s centerfold flanked by its white quartz walls. Even in his previous life, Arlan was never used to such amenities.

A bath was set up in the guest room for Arlan to clean up. He was drenched in sweat and purple blood.

“I’ll return after half an hour, Master Arlan. You may use this room as you see fit,” stated Norman as he left. Now alone, Arlan undressed and stepped into the hot bath. The warmth flowed all around as he leaned back. Arlan decided it was time to reflect. The mental state of a soldier was always important.

It’s been two years since I’ve been here. Everything is still strange to me. From monsters to magic to elves, it's all a bit overwhelming. The only thing that felt familiar was immersing myself in battle. It reminds me of my men. I wonder how the Te’Vau were doing without me.

Arlan pondered about his plans for Althea. His goal was to find a way back to Terra while making sure he was able to protect Miss Petrah and the orphanage. Swearing allegiance to the Midland Army was the best option.

For Arlan to find his way back to Terra, he’d eventually have to sign up as an adventurer to gain access to ancient ruins, but Arlan decided this could be postponed until he was able to secure Midland’s stability.

Arlan had read books about Althean history and culture. This gave the insight to make predictions of what may occur. The most important prediction is the potential war between the Swora Oligarchy and the Midland Kingdom. If the ongoing border disputes continue with the instability between the Seven Great Houses, war will break out in 3 years.

I need to become high enough rank in the Midland Army to influence the upcoming war. Afterward, I can resume my search for a way home. Every day that passes, I feel Terra gets worse without me. But I cannot leave without making sure Miss Petrah and everyone else is protected here in Midland. Maybe I can grow closer to Duke Reeve to accomplish that. Defeating an entire company of goblins isn’t normal. I should’ve assumed as much.

Also, the magic...

Arlan’s fatigue caught up to him. Using essence takes its toll on the body and soul. Although Arlan’s soul was that of Rove, a genius general from another world, his body was that of a fourteen-year-old boy. The soul can dictate the essence capacity but one’s physical body is used as the conductor. Finally, the fatigue was too much for Arlan.

Magic… skill… I learned...

The hazel-haired boy slowly lost his consciousness and fell into a slumber.

Arlan opened his eyes to see an amber sky littered with broken skyscrapers. He looked back to the ground level to see ruined modern buildings and fires devouring what they could. Arlan wouldn’t have known this place, but Rove did. It was Angeles City on Terra. Dead soldiers and civilians littered the streets and ongoing firefights echoed. It was the war between the Terran Federation and the Arusa Union.

This is impossible, this city was leveled by the Union.

Anti-aircraft fire raced to the amber evening sky. Rove followed the tracers to see hundreds of Union bombers flying in formation, like birds flying south for the winter. These soaring angels gave birth to tiny capsules that dove straight down. They drew white lines like a colored pencil across the sky.

There’s no escaping Union hex-cluster bombs.

Rove watched as a squadron of bombs was right over his head. It was only a matter of seconds. Once the bombs reached a hundred meters above the ground, they each blossomed into 6 smaller bombs. The hex-cluster pattern covered a massive area. The first bomb exploded in front of Rove. A bright flash overtook his eyes and his killing intent switched on.

Arlan violently woke up ready to kill. He was still in the bathtub back on Althea. Arlan’s instincts woke him up to growing footsteps. Arlan realized it was the head butler and relaxed.

A dream of Angeles City being leveled by bombers. This has never happened since I’ve been here. Maybe being in a battle has triggered an emotional response that I’m unaware of. This must be from the kid body I'm in.

Norman had brought a red nobleman tunic and left it on the bed for Arlan. “Is it okay for a commoner like me to wear such clothes?” asked Arlan as he rose out of the bath.

“Master Arlan, if Duke Reeve wills it, none in Galdo will question it. May I add that it would be most heinous if you presented yourself in those… filthy garments,” replied Norman with efficiency and disgust.

If only the others could see this. He felt nostalgia for the other kids. The same way he missed his brothers-in-arms on Terra.

After an hour, Norman led Arlan to the dining hall. Members of the Reeves family were already seated at a massive table. They all gazed at Arlan as he was the talk of the castle. Norman led Arlan to a seat next to the biggest chair which was likely meant for the Duke. “Please rise when the Duke enters, and you may sit when the Duke is seated,” whispered Norman. Arlan nodded.

Arlan read about House Reeves. The Duke has two younger brothers. Count Emile was the middle brother and Baron Daxton was the youngest. The Duke was once married but his wife had passed several years ago due to miscarriages. He has no children but his two younger brothers have six children each. Most of whom were in prominent positions throughout Midland.

Any member of a Great House would wear their sigils somewhere on their clothes. House Reeves sigil is the golden lion, a creature twice the size of lions on Terra and was mostly docile unless provoked.

Count Emile, his wife, and two of his daughters were present. Count Emile had golden hair like his brothers and sported a clean handsome late thirties look. His wife, Countess Vivia, had long blue tresses and was a rare jewel of beauty. Count Emile’s teenage daughters had golden hair with streaks of emerald and inherited their father’s eyes but their mother’s beauty. The younger of the two had much shorter hair.

They carried themselves with pride as they spoke to other nobles but Arlan couldn’t detect any arrogance.

I remember reading that Count Emile was charged with watching over Galdo City. Count Daxton was appointed head of the Reeve 2nd Banner. So Count Daxton is likely stationed elsewhere. Duke Reeve must be visiting from Lionsheart.

When the Duke entered the room, everyone rose from their seats. After he took his seat, everyone else followed suit. Arlan felt the respect and power that the Duke commanded. The Duke then broke the silence.

“Praise Numen, the sacred spirit has blessed us. Let us rejoice.” As the Duke finished, everyone started to enjoy the food and each other’s company. Roasted pork, grilled chicken, baked yams, and other delicious food decorated the table. Arlan couldn’t help but devour the deliciousness set in front of him. The food from the orphanage was nothing like this. Arlan just noticed it only lacked proper seasoning.

“A mighty appetite compliments your combat skills.” smiled Duke Reeve as he watched Arlan slow his consumption to a stop.

“Your Grace, you mentioned an important matter?” asked Arlan. Duke Reeve finished chewing and turned to face Arlan.

“I’m quite intrigued, Arlan.” said the Duke with a serious tone. “The Midland Kingdom faces ruin and I surmise you can prevent that fate.”

Although Arlan appeared as a boy, the Duke could already sense the young orphan’s abilities. “Your Grace, the Midland Kingdom will not fall,” Arlan replied with confidence. The Duke blinked and became even more interested.

“Tell me, Arlan. What gives you the strength to say it with such confidence?”

“The Seven Great Houses aren’t united. Meaning a war among the Seven Great Houses is imminent. The Swora Oligarchy will seize the opportunity to deliver a final blow to the weakened Midland Kingdom. You’re likely aware of this, correct?”

“Mhmm.” the Duke nodded.

“The Seven Great Houses' only unifying factor was the threat of the Rhota Orc Tribes. But ever since the Rhota Orc Tribes fell apart after the death of Gorza, the Orc Lord. The Seven Great Houses are now at each other for control over the Midland Kingdom.”

“I’m astonished at your ability to deduce this variable. Your words don’t carry any wrongs. Continue.”

“For Midland’s survival, all houses scheming with the Swora Oligarchy need to be destroyed. Then, instead of waiting for the imminent attack, a Midland Army must invade the Swora Oligarchy,” stated Arlan.

“Invade the Swora Oligarchy? Even at a time of instability within the kingdom?” The Duke was further amazed at Arlan’s ability to think outside of the box.

All the Great Houses and the Avens Royal Family were focused on defending against the invasion or destabilizing Midland. None of them would ever consider such an outlandish attack, but because of that, it could actually work. A good offense was also a great defense.

“You were going to enlist in the Midland Army, rank up high enough to persuade generals to invade the Swora.” assumed the Duke.

“A correct assumption.”

“Arlan, you could avoid the dangers by living as a merchant. Educate me as to why you are willing to go to such lengths.” the Duke needed to understand Arlan’s motives.

“Midland is home to my loved ones. I cannot let the drums of war reach them. I’m willing to dedicate my life to that cause alone.” answered Arlan as he thought of Miss Petrah and the orphanage.

“A noble cause and I expected nothing less.” replied the Duke as he shook his head. Arlan knew the Duke’s questions were to measure his aptitude and morals. Arlan saw no reason to lie. If the Duke was loyal to Midland, it would greatly benefit Arlan.

Duke Reeve turned his attention to a wine cup and trailed his mind for about a minute. Before Arlan could ask about the House Reeve’s plans, the Duke stood up and raised his golden goblet for a toast. The entire hall immediately fell silent and gave the Duke their attention.

“Forgive my rudeness for interrupting the festivities,” said the Duke. “House Reeves sigil is a golden lion. This magnificent creature represents strength, justice, and resolve. The golden lion knows when to use its power and when it needs to use its heart. Arlan, stand before me and kneel.”

A reward for killing the goblins. This should help me accelerate my climb through the rankings of the Midland Army.

Arlan steps around the table and glides to the center of the room. He knelt before Duke Reeve while feeling everyone’s gaze. Arlan has received plenty of rewards in his previous life with thousands watching. This was no different. So Arlan displayed no signs of nervousness but only exuded confidence and grace. This impressed many, especially a few younger noble girls.

As Arlan's left knee touched the ground, the Duke continued, “Earlier today, Numen blessed me to witness this young boy displaying the courage and resolve to defeat an entire company of goblins, including a hobgoblin. But that is not all, this young Midlander wants to dedicate his life to the perseverance of the Kingdom. His body may seem small but hidden underneath is a golden lion’s heart. The realm owes you this recognition.”

To honor Arlan, everyone drank their wine to signify their respect. The Duke knew how to use his tongue to beautifully paint the atmosphere. His audience was captivated and inspired to feel the same way toward Arlan.

Althean culture isn’t far off from Terran culture.

“As Head of House Reeves,” proclaimed the Duke while he drew a mithril teal longsword from his hip. “I grant you the only reward I feel is right.”

Give me a nice rank in the Midland Army, please.

The Duke used the blunt side of the sword to dub Arlan’s shoulders mid-sentence.

“I adopt you as my son. Rise now as Baron Arlan Reeve.”

Even better.