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Vya City was picturesque.

Victorian architecture, along with gable roofs and bay windows for Elevyar’s somewhat cold climate. Silia City had mainly been composed of buildings similar to ancient Country X architecture back on Earth, a stark contrast to Vya’s. Carriages filled the streets, and Elevyarian pines grew with wild yet somewhat restrained foliage against pale brick. The closer one got to the palace, the more expensive and larger the mansions were.

Novarra had never seen the Rella mansion, since it was back in the Rella territory and far from both Vya City and Rook, but she assumed it was extremely large.

She made her way to the stores to pick up some more clothes and perhaps some potatoes to give to the inn’s cook, her mask still on. While running errands, it was best not to attract any kind of attention, even though what she was doing was a bit reckless. It was a weekend, and Vya Academy was closed, so she was on break.

She had mastered the Core of the water element, which was, surprisingly, ‘devouring.’

But she needed a break.

Novarra hadn’t memorized the entire capital city, as she had only been there for a month, but she had found a nice store to frequent. Vya was much more bustling and modernized than Rook, but the products were better here too.

Exiting the street, Novarra made a left and faced a pastel storefront with TAYLOR’S TAILORING in large calligraphy letters. Heading inside, she smiled.

“Ingrid!”

The ever-vibrant Taylor Atkinse ushered her further in the store.

“Taylor,” Novarra greeted, “I’m just here to get a few more pairs of pants and shirts. The ones I brought from home ripped, unfortunately.”

From practicing my new Concept…

For her air element, her main Concept had just been [Sky Whip], condensing the air into chains that were as sharp as knives. They had the main purpose of distraction, specializing in long-range combat while Novarra closed in, usually with a melee weapon. Sometimes, on training days when she was feeling lazy, she used the common [Wind Sphere], similar to the air blasts she used to strike down straw dummies.

For her water element, she had tried to incorporate the Concept [Aqua Blade], trying to copy the fluidity of the element in her swordsmanship while attempting to make mini-blades with the water. But she lacked the expertise and resources to tinker with the water’s solidity - after all, she wasn’t an ice mage.

Although her speciality was Manipulation, most Resilian water mages were taught Summoning, as large amounts were needed to try and ‘drown’ people. Ice mages usually specialized in offense, while water mages specialized in defense.

It made her wonder whether choosing water was a bad decision, after all she wasn’t omnipotent...

But she had never really participated in real combat before. There was no need for that in Rook; but, currently what Varra needed was experience. She had her theory mentor in Professor Ricci, but a sparring partner or a combat mentor wouldn’t hurt.

Her skills were close to approaching a double-elemental master, which could be used to apply for a higher position.

And all the teaching assistants avoided her…

It was the mask, right? Was it eerie?

“A lot on your mind, Ingrid?” Taylor asked, pulling out the continent’s version of measuring tape.

Novarra sighed. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Care to share?” Taylor approached, tape-roll in hand. Stretching the elongating string, she measured it against Varra’s arm. “25 aeron for sleeves, I suppose that’s alright…”

“I need a sparring partner,” Novarra lightly confessed as Taylor jotted down her measurements.

“I’ve been planning to join the Order…” (a lie)

“Really?”

“And I just started trying to master my second element to meet the qualifications…but I have no battle experience at all,” she finished. “Any suggestions?” Varra added, sincerely. Well, at least the question was sincere.

Taylor brightened. “Well, you’re in luck. My cousin - her name’s Rowan - just recently got promoted to a three-star adjutant,” she boasted. “I could call her over and let her take a look. Besides, you got a post at Vya Academy. You shouldn’t be a pushover, and she’s practically a fighting addict.”

“Addict?” Novarra raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she’s practically infamous in the Order. It’s surprising she hasn’t been kicked out yet, really…”

A maniac, I’m assuming.

“Ah, I’m not familiar with the Order’s ranking system. Not that I’m doubting your cousin’s capability, of course, but a three-star adjutant…?” Novarra assumed that the Order was referring to Vya City’s police, the Order of Mages.

Taylor drew back guiltily, like an otaku caught out in the open. A sheepish smile made its way across her plain-featured face as she let out an almost evil giggle.

“You’ve asked the right person, heh. Turn around.”

Novarra obeyed.

I just wanted a suggestion…but as long as benefits me, I guess~ They say only dead fish go with the flow, but if I reincarnated as a rich person I sure as hell wouldn’t mind~ wait, is that even what the saying means, though?

“I’m quite interested in these things,” Taylor continued, “so would a summary be alright?”

“More than alright, actually. I’m quite lucky to have stumbled upon you~”

Is this the Elevyarian equivalent of a superhero comic fan?

Novarra decided to canvas the area later to poke at the Order’s reputation.

“So there’s different levels, a hierarchy almost, according to Ro. First are the cadets, fresh out of the Order’s training academy. Since you’re an out-of-towner, you might not know about the training academy, but it’s an extremely rigorous training that people with the dual-elemental qualification can join. Well, you might know that part since you’re planning to join, haha.”

Taylor smiled as she finished jotting down the measurements.

“After a cadet proves themselves worthy, they are boosted up to a soldier. If they catch the eye of a lieutenant, and are at least a three-star soldier, they’re promoted to an adjutant. Three-star adjutants, or the personal adjutant of a lieutenant, are primed to take the lieutenant position, usually. Three-star lieutenants, are…”

“Are candidates to be captain,” Novarra finished. “I get the gist. And stars are given based on merits?”

‘Good thing she didn’t scold me for wanting to join when knowing nothing about it…’

“That’s correct.” Taylor set down the fountain pen and paper she used to scrawl the measurements, and picked up another sheet while turning Varra back around. While sitting down and starting a rough shirt sketch, she continued, “Captains are chosen once every five years. This year’s candidates are Lord Kieran and Lady Lilith. Of course, I’m Team Kieran~ He’s so handsome, he gets all the people’s hearts. But wow, Lady Lilith is so cool too~”

Wait…

“Lord Kieran de Rella?” Novarra widened her eyes.

The border Rellas? Aren’t they supposed to be in their territory along with the scary guy? Wait, there was the youngest, right? A mage…

“Yes, and Lady Lilith de Amaryllis…she’s very good, too, but she gives off this unapproachable, distant sort-of aura; which is why her supporters aren’t that many.” Taylor blushed. “Am I boring you?~”

Fuck, I’ve been getting lazy on gathering data lately; too much focus on one subject isn’t good either…

Taylor Atkinse. A tailor.

Novarra had only met her a few times, wandering around the streets near the academy for a tailor after mastering Shifting, and stumbling upon the shop. Minor repairs. They were tentative acquaintances.

The best way to an introvert’s heart?

Let them talk about their hobbies.

Be a listener.

Relationships were built on trust, and reciprocity of said trust, but first one must form a bond. It can be made through activities, common hobbies, or even showing that a person is ready for a friendship. Through interacting with each other, and getting to know each other (or at least, getting to know the image the person conveyed), trust would be created. After showing actions that the trust was reciprocated, a relationship would be formed.

Bridging the professional gap with first, a personal commonality, or interest.

If this relationship worked out, Novarra would have a friend and source of information.

Some may ask, ‘can a real relationship be built on false beginnings?’

Technically, Varra had no false intentions approaching her. If she was hung up on moral technicalities, why would she have chosen the third ‘quest’ of becoming more powerful?

Weaving around technicalities were practically her speciality…

“No, you aren’t,” Novarra said, genuinely, “It’s very interesting. Your cousin is a three-star adjutant, so a personal one?”

“That’s correct.” Taylor beamed as she finished sketching the shirt outline. After Novarra approved it, Taylor summarized, “All members of the Order, adjutant and below, are given a break before the Captain’s Duel next week. That’s when Lord Kieran and Lady Lilith duel for the position. You can come back tomorrow; Ro will usually be here around then, at noon. She can even bring you to one of the Order’s training pavilions, and you can spar.”

“Ah, you don’t have to go that far.”

“Ai, it’s alright. Anything for a valued customer...and friend.”

Taylor smiled shyly as Novarra returned the smile.

After they sent each other off, she made up her mind to canvas the area stealthily for more information about the Order - Vya City in general, really - after she was finished with her errands.

Right. Potatoes.

She had to first drop off some potatoes.

There was once a boy who thought he was mediocre.

He liked mediocre things, had mediocre looks, and had a mediocre personality.

But the boy who thought he was mediocre, wasn’t mediocre.

He performed well above mediocre, actually.

Most called him extraordinary.

And because of that, the boy who thought he was mediocre worked hard to meet their expectations. He won trophies, got prizes, studied from dusk until dawn.

When he entered high school, he met a girl who wanted to be extraordinary.

A girl who dreamed of becoming famous, and a boy who had no dreams.

But the boy saw passion in the girl’s eyes. Dreams of a future, of flights of fancy beyond the limits of his own reality, and he was drawn to her bold promises.

They met, fell in love, in one thing led to another. They became lovers.

The boy grew up, and got into an elite university.

But the girl’s passion never seeped into the boy’s.

He despaired, drowned in his own sorrows as he realized just how damned he was, just how wretched the burden of expectations really were.

And just how heavy the weight that chained him down to the world was.

The boy dropped out, choosing a small office worker job in a small company.

The boy broke up with the girl, because he didn’t want to weigh her down.

And the boy who thought he was mediocre, became mediocre.

He lived a mediocre life, still had no dreams, and had a mediocre personality.

Until he got sucked into the whirlpool of another world.

His favorite novel.

“KIARA.”

- An excerpt from “REBUILD,” by ShiningScales124 (Prologue)

Evan King frowned.

He had hired a good enough transporter, a funny chap by the name of Charon, to transport him to Elevyar. It had only taken three weeks, and now he was sitting in a cafe near Vya Academy, contemplating his transmigration, in the body of a five-year-old.

The novel wasn’t going the way it was supposed to.

And it was his fault.

Kiara was supposed to grow up, find Sir Antony Archibald, become a natural prodigy, and get ‘Claimed’ by Excalibur. After she joined Cavalierre and became its youngest member at the age of seventeen, she would make her way up the guild and become its guildmaster, slowly swallowing up all the other guilds until she reunited the former kingdom.

Then, she would be crowned Queen of Resilia.

At least, that was before.

Now, a twenty-year-old transmigrated into a commoner baby’s body, and now was basically her brother. Which made him feel predatory, because of her similarity to his ex-girlfriend, but she was basically like a daughter to him.

Evan had opted to find the other swords that were revealed at the end of the story, to continue where Kiara had left off.

He had forgotten that currently, Kiara hadn’t even started; and that him stealing her Claim to Excalibur was basically the work of a thief that came from the future.

“[A five-year-old thief],” Evan lamented in his language as he continued sawing away at the food.

The main language in Anisa was the same in all four kingdoms, but all four kingdoms had ancient languages reserved for rituals and ceremonies; usually only nobles could speak them.

If Evan was speaking a strange language, people would usually assume it was ancient Resilian.

So he could swear all he wanted.

“Erm, young lad,” the waiter began hesitantly, as he approached, “where are your parents? Are you waiting for anyone?”

Evan King sighed internally.

He hated this body.

“My parents are dead,” he lied blankly.

The waiter blinked awkwardly. “Oh, dear Souveraine, my condolences.”

Evan gave him a polite nod, and continued thinking after he muttered in annoyance, “[Damn this body].”

The icy blade of Excalibur was in a large bag - a five-year-old with a sword would undoubtedly attract attention. But he could feel the cooling sensation of the sharp blade he had forcefully pulled from the Stone.

Strangely, it didn’t feel his own.

It was as if he had ripped off someone else’s limb and had attached it to his. Although he could use Excalibur to its full extent, it still didn’t feel like it was his. Even after he had gained the sword, it was as if the ice from Excalibur had made its way into his system - numbing his emotions, almost, consuming his empathy.

Was it a side effect from stealing a Claim?

“[Damn you, too, cursed sword],” he cursed. “[You aren’t even worth the trial I had to go through. I spent five fucking years in that space].”

When withdrawing the sword from the stone, he even had to overcome a Holy Trial. It sucked. It sucked even more that he was trapped for five imaginary years, rolling a stone up a hill like fucking Sisyphus.

Evan wanted to punch things, just reminded of it, but he sighed, calming himself down.

The main reason he came to Vya was to get better at air magic, find the other transmigrators, and get Durendal.

Maybe even figure out if there was a side-effect to ‘stealing’ other people’s Claims to Holy Swords?

Evan King caught the eye of a newspaper boy, outside of the cafe, through a window. The boy was handsome, dressed in plaid, with nice-looking eyes. The boy smiled at him, his eyes crinkling as his lips quirked.

It was a familiar smile.

It was like his biological sister’s smile.

Evan returned the smile, as he set down his plate and fork, picked up the bag, and exited the cafe.

Approaching the plaid-dressed newsboy, he handed him a copper. Elevyarian summers were both cold and warm, and he could feel Excalibur in his bag, reacting to the weather. Gesturing towards a paper, Evan started a conversation.

“My mother really likes this issue. Could you give me a summary of what happened? With the, er” - Evan glanced at the title of the paper - “baron’s son’s murder?”

“Oh, yer mean the rundown.” The newsboy’s bright accent seemed vaguely Irish, or Scottish, Evan wasn’t very sure.

He was somewhat disappointed their voices weren’t the same.

“The son was attending Vya Academy, but one day he was seen, gutted in an alley, almost like a fish. The Order sniffed around and saw a ‘kerchief in his jacket, belonging to a teaching assistant, and there the case was solved. Not ver’ newsworthy, compared to other dirt, but it’s the Academy, so the papers take everything they can get.”

The last bit was said in a whisper, as the newsboy leaned in.

“To be honest with yer, I don’t think the assistant did it. Until the end,they kept saying that some other assistant framed them, but they were executed for killing a noble before they spilled the name.”

Evan was now invested.

“Who do you think did it?” he asked, curious.

The newsboy shrugged. “The Academy’s staff register isn’t open to us common folk, so I’m not sure. But it’s just an illegitimate scion, so I don’t think the Baron will take further action. Especially since they’re part of the Ilya family.”

Upon looking at Evan’s confused face, the newsboy laughed.

“I thought yer were an out-of-towner,” he chortled, “but yer really don’t know the names of the nobles here? The Ilyas? The one with too many scions to count? I recommend checking out the noble register, but it’ll cost yer another two copper.”

After proceeding with the exchange, Evan murmured to himself.

“I’ll have to make a mental note to find them as quickly as possible...The border rebels are also a threat…”

With the register in hand, Evan King walked towards the looming presence of Vya Academy.