It was three weeks before Max and the others ran in to trouble. City to village to town to frontier fort, the group moved like the wind, tirelessly and without effort. The original plan had been mapped out, executed, then completely ignored a week or so into the vacation. But that was life on the road. There was no end goal, there was no quotas to be met, there was only running.

They simply moved around Salarin, taking cues from locals they spoke to on a daily basis. A [Tanner] explained about a small remote hot spring? The group went. A [Cheese Maker] longed to visit an inn at the peak of a small mountain? They were there before night fall.

Hunlun was a major disappointment to mainly Max and Emi. The others, even Isaac oddly enough, knew the reputation the isle state procured over its centuries in the forefront of healing. Still, Max wanted to believe that Vel’s home was just like any other. It was a sad reality but that hardly mattered after he had a revelation about the dead.

Seeing the dead was… odd, to put it lightly. Most places the group went, Max saw no ghosts. Either there were no recently deceased or those who had passed, passed with relatively minor regrets. He still wasn’t sure how it worked, but after assisting a few more ghosts to pass over the threshold of the living, he had made a few notes on the subject.

Ghosts that were what he considered lost, were passionate individuals with goals in their lives. Whether it was a [Food Vender] making a living for his family, an old crow hellbent on reducing the noise of those who lived below her, or a murder victim discontent with their death, those who remained in the realm of the living wanted something.

Whether they got it or not was completely up to chance.

Most of the time the ghost would fade into what Max could only believe to be the afterlife. A few stray thoughts on the matter grazed his consciousness a few times, each lowering his mood and causing deep thought. But, in the end, the Lost Lord had to believe Peneil was watching out for these people. He guessed that he could visit another shrine of the God of Death, but it was up in the air if the God would even respond.

As far as Max knew, Peneil rarely showed himself to mortals. Giving a gift to the creator of a Legendary spell was something that rarely happened – let alone required the God of Death’s input.

Only once did someone ask for help to move on, a woman that didn’t want to pass without knowing whether her son lived or died. The only issue was that the ghostly woman was blind, Max ended up spending most of the evening tracing terrible directions to find the son’s house. He was perfectly fine and as soon as the old woman heard his voice, she passed with a great smile.

Ghosts seemed to have varying levels of consciousness as well as varying levels of interaction with their surroundings. Max had a theory about this being related to how long a ghost had existed, in other words, how long ago the ghost truly died. What gave evidence to this was that the blind woman could grasp Max’s arm as he led her through the streets and that she could speak in full conversation without adopting past muscle memories.

He hoped that his theory was correct and incorrect. On one hand a ghost knowing full well that they are dead and can’t move on was a terrible fate to have. On the other, being a husk of a once alive being was a horrible fate as well.

And finally, Max noticed that some ghosts react poorly to the news that they are dead. A man screamed at the top of his lungs for nearly an hour after Max dropped the bomb. In the end the man passed on, but it shook the Lost Lord for a while.

The group had only stayed a few days in Hunlun. Inns were expensive on the island, not that that was a problem, but the group felt they were being extorted. Emi did stock up on rare and unusual fish and seafood, using Max’s inventory as her personal fridge, however.

During their stay, Alia, and Isaac both opened up. Alia about her nervousness of being outside the castle and the anxiety she felt when she remembered just where she was. As it turns out, Salae and Hunlun were friends only in writing – the states couldn’t be more at odds when it came to policies and general repertoire.

Isaac was just thankful to finally be out of a stone cell. He followed Max’s every word but would often get lost in long spiels of anti-government monologs – except for when he was fascinated with the local culture. It was something the immortal man missed dearly, people. People were beautiful, they were fun, they brought a sense of wonderment and awe, and most importantly, they were new. Those he could potentially help? Even better!

Tales from the elders were Isaac’s favorites. Romanticized calling of the young, battles long fought, or fables passed down through the generations. They were stories written in fiction, but with an aspect of history – the fond kind.

After Hunlun, the group traveled across the coast, down south to wrap around the end of the Ire Mountain Range. Coastal cities were where Max thrived as they were a reminder of home. As they rounded the northern part of the continent, the lush tropics died out and resolidified into marshes thick of reeds and mud.

They hit each attraction of the sporadic towns. Emi’s favorite was a port that housed an imported wild game market. Vast rows of long killed, and nearly rotten, exotic meats. Fish were among the less popular, something she didn’t know was even possible. Still, the little monster had a field day picking and choosing interesting meals.

The port was also home to the largest adventuring item repossession sale. Collectors would sell old, beat, rusted, worn, stolen, or extra sets of apparel for the common adventurer. As it turns out, most of the items sold were unable to be reprocessed into new tools or woven into new threads – so, when a [Traveling Merchant] finished their run, most of their wares ended up in the sale.

Max didn’t buy anything for himself, other than a few odds and ends, but he did suit up Isaac, Celenia, and Alia. People would ask questions if the eldest princess and immortal man randomly showed up in their town wearing normal clothes and without a carriage. But, if they wore leather boots, a slightly torn-up tunic, and carried a sheath with a dull blade? Then they could be passed off as wandering adventurers, just like Max and Emi.

Celenia liked this a lot in fact. Without the [Druids] she was looking to reinvent herself. Part of that was the Medallion Pod God Yepu had given her, the other part was her rediscovery. The former slave didn’t have many hobbies, nor did she truly know what she wanted to do in life. Sure, the [Druids] pushed her one way, but now? Now she realized she jumped at a stationary lively hood of Druidism.

The next few towns were more touristy then the others, each with their own attractions. One held a large gambling hall full of harsh smoke and harsher people. Another had tours deep into the marshy wilderness. A third had whale watching. A fourth had odd stone formations, rumored to be dead Class Stones.

Celenia found the most interest in the stones, oddly enough. She explained that the town she lived in with her previous master had something similar, but they were called Training Stones. The idea was that long ago, people would train their bodies by moving the stones, without magic. They had carved handles and were often weighted perfectly. Nava’s version of weight lifting, Max realized.

All throughout the travels, Max and Emi never once missed a day of training. Something they had learned early on was that traveling via teleportation upped the boredom scale. They could be in a new city before dawn and see and do everything they wanted to before noon, thus leaving plenty of time to sit around and do nothing.

Or they could train, tinker, and experiment. The duo quickly fell into a rhythm. Train in the morning with Celenia while Isaac taught Alia how to cook, then teleport somewhere new, see the sights, tinker in the afternoon, experiment with potentially dangerous spells or runic formation in the evening, and then finally bed. Max grasped on to the pattern, often finding therapeutic joy at ending the cycle.

Or he just liked to sleep.

Sometimes, when she asked for it, Max would help Celenia with the pod. They had both come to hate the thing. Trying to open one’s senses and mind was like banging one’s head into a wall for hours then being told to complete a puzzle. The utter lack of… well… anything during Celenia’s training had become a large time sink.

Celenia and Isaac thought she was making progress while Max and Alia thought it a waste of time.

“When you are truly by yourself, one’s mind can do anything.” The immortal prisoner explained.

The statement was said in passing, but Max and Celenia both find themselves pondering it more often than not. To the Elf, the statement held a hidden key, a way to the future and an opportunity for great things. She found this oddly similar to how Yepu had explained true domain spells, which gave her a boost in confidence.

Max, on the other hand, simply felt bad when his mind wandered to Isaac’s statement. Maybe he was cynical, but he found the words to have much more meaning than they actually did. Max couldn’t imagine being locked in a prison for centuries – even more so he couldn’t imagine being locked away and be innocent. The Lost Lord was still hesitant around the Vast Empire’s founder, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel bad.

How Isaac didn’t go mad was a question only the Gods could answer.

Max’s Pocket World was coming along quite well. He had spent hours with Celenia moving dirt around and planting grass seed , which amounted to throwing handfuls in random patterns. Eventually, the white geometric lines of the world were all covered by a thin layer of dirt and green grass. The accomplishment was quite the feat and required the Lost Lord to purchase nearly triple his original estimate of dirt.

But, in the end, the Pocket World finally had a floor. Celenia had even taken it upon herself to add flowers and tree saplings in various spots. Over all, Max’s Domain was becoming more, something he was very proud of. It was a home, like a rustic camping sight.

He planned out the next few steps for bringing his creation to life as well. The end goal was to create a world similar to what he saw with Goddess Sahhgen’s realm. A jungle full of life with a perpetual centralized home. Granted the Goddess’s was a mount of dirt, Max was thinking more along the lines of the palace Emi had her eyes set on but within a forest like that of Lesterwood.

The issue became where to get a palace.

Pond. Emi explained using only a single word.

Yes, yes. We’ll create a pond as well. Max said back with a small chuckle.

Fish.

We will fill it with fish, yes.

Good…

Alia and Isaac were most impressed with the Pocket World, especially Alia. She, other than Celenia, had seen the original version quite a bit and was quite in awe with the level of beauty a simple layer of dirt and grass could make. Isaac was more interested in the logistic aspects of the spell, mainly how Max created such a thing.

One quiet evening, Max, Emi, and Celenia gathered around one of the temporary tables set up near the exit of the Pocket World. Alia and Isaac were out gathering food from a market for dinner – it had long been decided to keep Max’s inventory full of food as intact as possible. They never knew when they would needed emergency rations.

Emi and Celenia watched Max with careful eyes. They couldn’t see what he was writing, but still, they were invested. A small pile of crumpled, balled-up sheets of parchment sat off to the side almost mocking the Lost Lord.

More than a few times did Max cry. It was hard for him not to. Writing a letter with such raw emotion as he was, would be a difficult thing for anyone. But, he had Emi and Celenia by his side. Gentle purrs or a reassuring touch was all he needed to power through. In the end, he was left with a multi-page letter bound in thin twine and a protective parchment sleave.

He had spent a long while meticulously folding the outer page as to get the lines to line up just right. Max wanted the impromptu envelope to look as closely to Earth’s as possible. No, that wasn’t true. He needed it to be as similar as possible. Otherwise they might throw it away.

“Are you sure about this?” Celenia asked as she reached for the letter. She didn’t want to read it, nor did she think Max would allow her to. She only wanted to feel its weight, “Its rather light.”

“I am. And its light enough.”

Max took the envelope back and carefully set it on the table. He took a moment to fill out the address before drawing in magic. He knew the letter’s delivery point was far, incredibly far even. So, he pulled out all of the stops. Divine mana charred the air, burning the Pocket World in a soft gentle power.

Space began to wrap around the letter in neat and tidy lines. The wooden table bent with the lines, turning the once straight wood into a flexible mess. The spell itself was one of Max’s simplest space spells, Teleport Item. It was one of the first he had learned, and one of his most used.

The air continued to shutter with power, each second passing like a snail inching up a hill. Celenia had to move away, the symphony of mana too much for her to stand near. Emi, however, had no such problems and silently stood at the edge of the table.

Truthfully, Max wasn’t sure if sending a letter was a good enough reason to use his Demigod Racial Trait, Divine Powered. But after debating with himself for the better part of a week, he finally asked the others. Well, Emi and Celenia, at least. He didn’t want to bring Alia and Isaac up to speed on his most powerful trump card.

Emi’s answer was for him to send the letter as soon as possible. She knew Max’s emotions very well and felt that he would receive some closure. Celenia was more hesitant, at first, but eventually sided with Emi. The Elf knew the power of family more than anyone and how longing on difficult emotions can harm someone irreparably.

The Divine power and mana raised into new heights like a pot boiling to capacity. In a single breath, the pot shimmered in a brilliant flash of white light. Sparkles of energy rained down across the Pocket World, drifting harmlessly into the soft grass below.

On the table, the letter was gone.

Max held in a final tear before Celenia appeared and wrapped herself around her partner. Emi joined in as well, opting to sit on Max’s shoulder and lay across the top of Celenia’s head. Together the three stood in a dazzling rain of mana, happy to be together.

As the sparking ended, Celenia spoke, “Tell me about them?” They have had this conversation before, but the Elf knew the Human always felt better after talking about his family on Earth.

“Let’s start with my brothers…” Max said, his eyes red and nose stopped-up.

At some point, the three found themselves laying on a blanket surrounded by pops of color in the form of radiating flowers. A deep amber wine was being poured, drank, and re-poured, as Max continued to talk about Earth. At some point, he remembered he couldn’t get drunk since water based poisons didn’t affect him thanks to his Leviathan Blessing.

After Max finished explaining what a locker-room was, a disturbance assaulted the entrance to the Pocket World. Since the world was Max’s creations, he could dictate some of its rules – one such being, who could enter and exit.

Alia entered running. She was scraped up and bleeding from her cheek, but still had enough presence of mind to not fall down the steps leading to the grass.

“Max! Max! They have Isaac!” The elder princess was panting hard at this point but fought through the labored breaths to get the information out as quick as possible, “[Trackers]! He fought them to cover for my escape!”

Water spiraled around the Lost Lord before flying out to meet Alia’s wounds. Her cheek was healed right away, as well as most of her muscle fatigue.

“[Assassins]?” Max asked while using the auto equip function of his inventory to fully suit up into battle equipment.

“I-I-I don’t know! It all happened so fast!”

Max grabbed Alia’s shoulder, “Calm down. Explain what happened. Isaac is an [Immortal], remember? He’ll be fine.”

The scared woman nodded meekly. She found comfort in Max’s confident words, “We were in the market. An… odd feeling of mana poured over the entire town, blanketing us in intense power. The markets went silent until the power faded. We found what we wanted to buy and quickly left. That’s when they attacked, a [Tracker] pair and a Salae [Knight].”

Max ignored the implementation that his Divine Powered spell could be felt across the whole town for the moment, “Any idea how they were able to track us?”

“The power! One of the [Trackers] said they could feel it on us more than anyone else. I think the [Knight] could identify me! Most of Salae’s army know what I and Eden look like!”

Emi levitated herself to Max’s shoulder making use of a water bubble, he spoke, “Celenia, we are going out. Can you watch Alia?”

The Elf nodded and said, “Be careful.” Before planting a kiss on his forehead.

Max gave her a genuine smile before disappearing into thin air.

He and Emi watched from high in the air. The town they were staying in was a collection of a few dozen building surrounded by a short stone wall. The city itself was predominantly safe, but that didn’t mean the odd goblin or pack of wolves didn’t wonder near. With a volunteer guard of a few burly men, the town was usually without incident. Except for today.

Max usually chose the inn the group stayed in. He preferred a larger, more centralized building with privacy and not too many occupants. The Pocket World entrance stayed tethered to the Lost Lord, meaning Alia had ran into the inn to warn him – which also meant the inn was compromised.

The volunteer guard had been rallied by the [Knight] of Salae to apprehend criminals of the crown. They pushed through the wooden building without warrant and without fully knowing the situation. Max didn’t want to kill innocents; they were just doing as ordered. So, he left the inn and teleported above the markets.

Technically, no one had to die today. Max and Emi could easily free Isaac and run. But at what end? When did the running stop? When Eden got tired? When Eden got bored? No, Max had done a lot of thinking on the matter. Running was only going to become tiresome, but, in the same vein, he didn’t want to murder all who stood in his way. The volunteer guards were one thing. A [Knight] of Salae and the [Trackers]? Those were a completely different story.

Three weeks of never ending movement. Three weeks of being isolated from his friends and family. Sure, he had Emi and Celenia, but he missed Clammy, Reep, Bishop. He even missed Vel. Max also knew Celenia missed Belopi and was only sticking around to support him. His Elven girlfriend was too pure of heart to abandon him even when he was a major target. It had become a weight on his mind. Now, with real danger afoot, more than ever.

Isaac was stuffed into a carriage fitted with a red iron cage. The immortal man was testing his dire restraints by continuously throwing his naked body at the magical bindings. A crowd had formed to watch the man harm himself for the sake of being free. They cheered him on as he worked up the nerve to try again and booed when with the pain became too unbearable.

It was sick.

Max was able to pick out the [Knight] – A man wearing Salae’s colors and sheeted steel armor explained as much. He carried a massive one handed sword which when sheathed nearly dragged across the cold marshy grass and a thick kite shield. He was passing out orders to those nearby, specifically to a single woman and an elderly man holding a short spear.

Beastkin, [Knight]

Human, [Tracker]

Human, [Retired Guardsman]

Each spun and scanned the crowd as Max’s Inspect pinged against their very beings. This was a phenomenon Max had noticed ever since he learned the Immovable Platform spell – people don’t look up. Granted, he and Emi were a small black speck against a deep blue backdrop, they were hard to notice.

First order of business was to remove the old man and [Tracker] from the fight. Max and Emi appeared nearby on the ground, simply walking towards the cart holding Isaac. It took a moment before the [Tracker] noticed them, but when she did, she alerted the [Knight]. The air changed into thick mess of aura intent as weapons were drawn. A guttural and booming voice commanded all to vacate the premises.

The crowd dissipated and the Beastkin stepped forward, “Halt in the name of the Crown! Step no closer, prepare to be arrested!”

Water spun around, appearing from thin air as well as pouring from the Pocket World entrance. The ground became more saturated, increasing foot falls and thick mud, except for where Max stepped. Mist rolled in from all around, blanketing the market place in obscuring fog and causing more panic in the surrounding townspeople.

As six orbs of rapidly spinning water began to rotate around Max, he spoke, “Surrender or die.”

The already chill air dropped a few degrees. The [Knight] subconsciously took a single half-step back as the mist fully formed around his enemy. Fighting a shrouded enemy was not something Salae had taught the man, but the one thing he was taught was perseverance. He readied his weapon and in a single aura-filled swipe, revealed half of the cloaked market.

Mist and fog swirled high into the air, dissipating completely. More mist continued to pour in, however, refilling the now vacant space. But the sudden freed view gave away plenty of information about both combatants.

Max and Emi were missing, and the man had taken another half-step back.