Trapped in Another World With No Magic

Zuzia takes a breath as she flexes her fingers. Wulfsten gave her a gauntlet for her right hand, which doesn’t fit very well. But, it gives her protection for her palm for what she’s going to do, as well as a firm grip edge to keep her from falling off.

Of course, Wulfsten thinks she’s going to use it to protect her fist, but she’s afraid she’ll ruin the gauntlet if she uses it for that. She’ll have to move fast, and this is the craziest and most dangerous thing she will have tried to date.

She looks at her left hand, which has her basic fingerless gloves she used when she expected to have to climb small amounts -not actual rock-climbing, but over logs or up onto boulders or small cliffs that she can reach the lower ground and the top with her height-. They’re also handy for handling hand tools like her camp shovel, ax, or saw.

The hit will possibly damage her glove, but her knuckles should be fine, considering she shattered a large boulder bare-handed.

She looks at Wulfsten, Halkadon, and Verbert, who are in position near the flank where they’ll ambush the rakehorn with some makeshift bolas she lashed together with some rope and rocks. She usually uses the knots she made to create a sort of sling-grapnel to tie a rope to something out of reach, but it is also handy if she has enough rope to make bolas.

In this case, they’ll have a very brief window of time, and they have to snare the rakehorn’s antlers, with ropes tied off to a big tree, which will hopefully distract the beast long enough for Zuzia to rush it from behind.

The three agreed to her plan, since she will be able to dislodge a part of the antlers -hopefully- and do so with the large palms off to the sides. This will allow the titanic deer-like beast to still use its antlers to pull branches and fruits down from trees, defend itself if it needs its antlers against other rakehorns or threats, and will still serve as a sizable portion for what they need.

Zuzia has hunted and prepared squirrels, birds, and other small game while out on a hunt, because it makes her packed rations go further, and it keeps her closer to nature in a certain way. That said, she would never want to stoop as low as to take away an animal’s ability to survive, such as taking both claws of a crab or lobster, or worse, cutting off a shark’s dorsal fins.

This is a different world, though. They haven’t gone through all of the same moral awakenings that Earth has, as they don’t seem to survey the populations of animals to determine whether or not they’re endangered, the impacts of predators on balancing the food chain, and preventing invasive species from overtaking an ecosystem. Here, they look at the immediate profit, which is understandable, even if there are better ways.

Wulfsten is in a unique position because of his magic bag that he could take the whole animal, and if they needed several tons of meat to get them through their journey, Zuzia would consider it. However, they’ll never make use of that much meat, meaning the animal would go to waste as a whole if they were to slay it.

Lumbering away from the tree it was making a meal out of, the rakehorn is finally relaxed enough for them to spring their attack. The compromise will spare the rakehorn’s life, preserve its ability to feed itself, and won’t harm Zuzia’s conscience, while allowing her to repay her mercenary companions for their escort.

She bolts forward as the three spring up, launching their bolas into the rakehorn’s antlers. It stutter-steps as it snorts and lowers its horns, all but using them as a shield against attack. The antlers pierce into the ground at first, like a guillotine attack meant to catch surprise predators that try to rush for its throat. However, this works to the advantage of the mercenaries, allowing the bolas to ensnare the branch-like bone protrusions from the beast’s head. When it tries to retreat in a back step, the ropes tighten. Wulfsten, Halkadon, and Verbert dive clear of the ropes to avoid getting tangled. Once taut, a guitar-like twang and tamber rings out from each of the three ropes, and the moose-like creature bellows and snorts, trying in frustration to pull backwards by force.

This keeps it effectively still, allowing Zuzia to jump up to the top of one of the antler palm’s tines, and she uses the gauntlet to grip the top of the main palm, ready to drop and escape if the rakehorn thrashes too much.

She rears her left fist back, hesitating for a fraction of a second, but the rakehorn drops its left antler towards the ground, which nearly bucks her off. She can’t wait too long, so she launches her knuckles forward as fast as her arm can propel them, and she hears a loud crack with a gust of wind.

Then, a thunderous bone-like crunch pops out loudly. The antler shears nearly in half along the wide fluke-like part of the moose-like antlers.

This frees the left antler from the rope, as the bola snared the outer edges, and Zuzia drops into a tumble on the ground as the rakehorn bellows, bucking to the right and violently shaking its head, wrenching its own neck against the two ropes tangled against the right antler.

It paces sideways on its tree-like legs, and Zuzia scrambles up to run after the the rake horn. It is more irritated and trying harder to free its right antler, but the leverage keeps it more subdued. It is mostly trying to rely on its massive size and might to pull free, and the ropes are definitely straining, while the tree is creaking and cracking.

Zuzia sprints in front of the rakehorn, swinging around to its right side. She rears her left fist back as she lines herself up to strike.

However, a supersonic crack thunders behind her, and she is hit in the back of the head, flopping forward onto her face. She coughs as she eats dirt and leaves, stunned for a moment as she tries to think about what just happened. A second supersonic crack thunders as the air is shorn by a whistling tear zipping by.

The rakehorn stumbles backwards, and she realizes what happened while a male voice calls out, “Lady Zuzia!”

The two ropes holding the right antler snapped, and the immense amount of tension whipped them forward violently.

The Polish woman is still slightly dazed, somewhat realizing in a fog that she isn’t decapitated, since she felt the impact on the back of her head.

That said, she doesn’t have time to make sense of everything. Her mind is foggy, and a giant angry animal is now facing her, free of the ropes that were somewhat controlling it.

It pads the ground, lowering its head to angle its antlers towards Zuzia.

She is yanked upwards by sharp-nailed hands with fur on them; the shenwulf named Halkadon has rushed to her as Wulfsten and Verbert try to yell and make noise to scare the rakehorn.

The beast is undeterred. After all, it stands probably more than four meters tall in total, weighs hundreds of kilos, and has the strength advantage over all of them. It doesn’t seem like the broken antler has harmed the rakehorn, and it is too angry to be unbalanced by the uneven weight distribution, even if its head is a little cockeyed as a result.

The rakehorn barrels towards the group, and the golden brunette can feel Halkadon’s grip tense.

“Hal!” screams one of the other two mercenaries, and he tries to push Zuzia clear.

Something takes over the young woman. She is still just a young woman who grew up in a small town in Poland. She liked hiking, worked a simple office job normally, and lived a normal life.

In this world, though, she has been gifted a great deal of power with the intention of saving the world. She’s not sure if Amalaskae programmed her with the instincts of a hero, or if she has always had it in her to protect people she’s grown even a little close to, but she launches Halkadon behind her with her forearm like a catapult, bracing her feet with her knees bent. At just the right distance with the monster bearing down on her, she launches herself forward and slightly to the left; right for the right antler. She snags it with her hands, yanking downwards.

Her gifted strength manages to yank the beast off of its feet, and its legs carry past her into the air as she slams its head down. Its massive body thuds to the ground near her. She has no idea if the mercenaries are alright, but for now, she needs to drive it off. But, before that, the young woman stumbles back a step. Her semi-dazed brain convinces her that it’s a good idea to finish the mission, so she hops forward and swings her right hand, hearing metal shriek while a thunderous pop shears the antler in an uneven split somewhat following the growth lines up the antler’s main palm.

The dazzled rakehorn manages to flail its head a few times before rolling onto its knees. It sits for a moment as Zuzia backs up, catching her breath a bit. She doesn’t even know if she’s injured, but she has to make sure the rakehorn retreats.

She can feel her adrenaline wearing off, and exhaustion is overtaking her. The moose-like beast is similarly dazed and panting heavily, and it finally rises to its feet.

Zuzia goes on guard, and the rakehorn snorts as it shakes its head, seemingly too out of it to remember that it was just in a fight. It looks at her, staring down at the young human woman for a long time. She stands her ground, still wishing she could simply lie down and rest, but she can’t yet.

With a long, slow, unthreatening low like a cow, the rakehorn backs away a few steps before turning and trotting into the forest.

The Polish brunette sighs in exhaustion, dropping to her knees in one big slump of her whole body. She finally feels the weight of the attack roll off of her shoulders, and she decides here and now not to undertake such risky missions.

And, upon realizing once again that it was so risky, she quickly checks the back of her head with her hand, finding a tender spot on the back of her skull, which causes her to wince.

Thankfully, though, when she inspects her hand, there’s no blood, and as far as she can tell, her skull is intact. She has never been concussed either, so she can only speculate that she wouldn’t know that she’s concussed on her own. However, she feels aware of her surroundings and what’s going on.

My name’s Zuzanna, that thing was a rakehorn, and we were after a portion of its antlers without killing it. I… think we succeeded, didn’t we?

She whirls to check on her companions. The three mercenaries accompanying her are huddled together, with Verbert and Wulfsten kneeling to help Halkadon up from where he fell.

All three of them are staring at her in shock.

“A-Are you okay?” asks Zuzia nervously.

She doesn’t get an answer, prompting her to jog closer. “Wulfsten? Halkadon? Verbert? Are you guys alright?”

Halkadon is the fastest to shake off his stupor. “Y-Yeah… My Lady, that… was incredible.”

“Oh… Uh, you really think so?”

All three of them nod in agreement.

She blushes and fidgets. “I, uh… I just did what I could.”

“I didn’t know how you intended to get just a part of the antlers, but… you did it…” remarks Verbert distantly, glancing at the broken antler pieces nearby.

“A-Anyone could’ve done it with the right skillset,” replies Zuzia, trying to be humble. She starts to step towards them, but she fumbles her steps, tripping over the ground. The three mercenaries look down, and she also inspects the small divots she tripped on.

The ground is pushed downwards in small craters where the soil was torn backwards, backstopping two footprints that are fairly average size for a Polish woman.

“Wh-who put those there?” jokes the young woman awkwardly, trying to alleviate the shock.

Verbert is the one to finally break the silence, snorting and laughing as his feline ears widen a little to express his amusement. This breaks the ice, and the other three all laugh as well, finally relaxing.

After they recover, the four gather the two large pieces of the rakehorn’s antlers, and Wulfsten tucks them into his magic bag. Just watching the massive pieces of bone-like material that are almost as wide as Zuzia is tall disappear into a bag that is half the size of a typical messenger bag is stunning to the young Earth woman, even if she had some idea of what it was going to do.

Afterwards, the four return to the camp where their carriage agreed to wait for them, and they collapse amidst the crates and piled furs that are being hauled towards the border. They all fall asleep quickly to recuperate, waking only when the merchant parks for them to camp out for the night. Because of the open fields around them, it’ll be easy to see any threats approaching, especially for the sharp-eyed gatonine mercenary and coachman.

“Now, I was going to save this for when we reached our destination, but I think we owe it to our Lady to share.” Wulfsten speaks jovially as he withdraws a bottle from his magic bag. Halkadon and Verbert grin and laugh warmly, and Zuzia’s eyes lock onto the bottle.

It’s not in a proper green or dark brown bottle as it should be, but the clear glass reveals the contents with ease, captivating Zuzia wholly.

The liquid inside the bottle is a dark red-violet color, clinging to the glass with every swish of the contents as it trails down in long, easily visible legs.

“W-Wine!?” asks the stupefied Polish woman with eyes like saucers.

“Oh? So you do know of it?” asks Verbert with a hint of surprise.

She clears her throat. “I… I’ve heard rumors.” She presses close to Wulfsten, which makes him a little uneasy in a slightly embarrassed way. “If you have beer in there, too, I’ll pledge my forever allegiance to you.”

“Beer, my Lady?” asks the human mercenary with an unsure voice.

She slumps, groaning sadly. “Why!? Why is Daniel so cruel!?”

“A-Are you… acquainted with the Emperor of the Fievegal, my Lady?” asks Halkadon cautiously.

She sighs. “No, not exactly. But, he’s not my Emperor. I’ll show him due respect if our paths cross, but…” She finally plops back on her butt. “Wine is good, too, though. I’m humbled and honored that you’re willing to share such a precious commodity with me.”

The three mercenaries chuckle, and Wulfsten replies warmly, “Not at all, my lady. With the rakehorn antlers, we’ll be able to afford another one.”

“Maybe even two, depending on what we get for them,” adds Verbert chipperly. The other two bob their heads eagerly in agreement.

“Truth be told,” starts the shenwulf swordsman. “If you weren’t here, we wouldn’t have been able to even try. Rakehorn antlers are valuable, but it would be too much of a risk for even a moderate mercenary company to take one on. After you handled yourself the other day, though, it was too tempting to pass up.”

“Sorry we used you for your strength like that…” Wulfsten’s voice is remorseful and quiet.

Zuzia smiles as he passes her a wooden cup with a plentiful amount of wine inside. “I’m glad it worked out without any of us getting hurt. And, thank you all for cooperating with my desire to spare the rakehorn. I know it was a little selfish of me to ask, and it put us in greater danger.”

“Don’t worry about it,” replies Verbert sincerely. “We got plenty of antler off of it to make it worth the risk. Plus, we got to see something awesome.”

“For sure,” agrees Halkadon. “Such overwhelming strength is truly inspiring. It must be your god-given divine gift.”

She smiles cryptically, neither confirming nor denying. She’s not sure if divine gifts are common or not.

Wulfsten unknowingly comes to her rescue when he adds, “Not to mention, perhaps it’s even more advantageous. The rakehorn will likely have a new set of antlers next year.”

“Hear, hear!” cheer the other three, and they drink their wine.

Zuzia goes to sleep for the night tipsy and happy, sincerely enjoying her impromptu adventurer party travelling cross-country together. It feels just like the anime she used to watch, and it is a good deal of fun, in spite of the inconveniences.

And, she intends to make the best of her situation wherever she goes.

***

Crunch, crunch, crunch. Shhhck.

Armored boots noisily interact with the gravel and dirt of a road between villages in the Mornistae countryside passing through a forest. A very abnormal scene stretches out on this particular section of road. There are two craters that have damaged a part of the road, forcing cart travel to move offroad, which required volunteers to clear the trees around the immediate area. Massive bodies of zaftambens are spread along the road, dismembered violently in battle, and dismantled further by whoever slayed them.

Several other knights are searching the immediate area of the forest, while the squad commander inspects one of the unidentified boot prints in the dirt.

The prints have distinct blocky shapes that press deeper into the ground than the base shape of the sole, leaving behind an alien pattern unlike all of the other boot prints around them.

Commander Nesparu of the Imperial Grand Army’s Fourth Battalion looks briefly at the sole of his own boot. The sole is a smooth cow-hide with metal nail studs for traction. The elaborate design of the prints he’s inspecting are unfathomably complex by comparison.

While he’s studying and awaiting reports, one of his men calls out, “Commander! Over here!” He looks to the source of the voice, finding one of the Imperial soldiers waving. He rises to his feet and walks over, pressing through the brush and weeds alongside the road to reach the area the soldier is standing.

He points out a body, partially decayed and devoured by wild animals. The clothing appears a little on the higher end than one would expect from bandits, but it’s unclear what faction the person would belong to otherwise, given the simplicity of the hooded cloak, light pants, and simple boots. The doublet and light armor protecting the man’s chest seem a little on the higher end.

That said, his left collarbone has been cleft in two, with a massive chunk taken out of his armor and flesh. Additionally, a heavy amount of branches and limbs from the trees have been knocked out of their parent trees, and a broken bow is laying on the ground nearby. The man appears to have been an archer, but given the damage, it looks like he was hit in the shoulder by a guillotine.

“Looks like the zaf’s got him, sir,” states the soldier.

Nesparu crouches and inspects the wound. Normally, zaftambens use their large, blade-like front claws to snare prey, not strike it. And, even if they do use the blades for an attack, it leaves a lot of tearing and pulled flesh, like a dull blade with a great deal of strength behind it.

On this body, the man’s bones have been shattered. He also shows no signs of being grabbed by two claws, nor does he have any bite marks from zaftambens.

“I don’t think so. The wound is too clean, and other than the small animal damage and the fall, it’s the only injury even close to reflecting a zaftamben.”

“Fall?” asks the soldier, looking up in the tree. His eyes widen, and he inspects the body all over again.

“She’s stronger than we thought,” remarks Nesparu, looking in the direction of the destruction from the trees. He begins walking in line with the dying branches and limbs, their leaves drying now that they are cut off from their water supply. The soldier follows behind him, inspecting the area.

The impromptu path leads the two deeper into the woods, but what they find is the severed blade-like forelimb of one of the zaftambens… nearly twenty feet off of the ground and stuck in the heavy limbs of one of the trees. The exoskeleton is battered and cracked from a massive number of impacts with immense amounts of force. The ‘blade’ is chipped and scratched, with many of the tines broken off.

“H-How…?” murmurs the soldier.

“This should be obvious, but we will need to be careful when we catch up to the target.”

The soldier nods, baffled by the amount of strength it would take to not only take a zaftamben’s forelimb, but to then throw it with such force that it smashes through tree tops and cleaves a man’s collarbone through armor.

“Will… we even be able to subdue her?” asks the soldier nervously.

Nesparu looks at the contingent he has at his back. They are not the only search party looking for the otherworlder summoned in Castle Mornistae a little over a week ago, but they’re making progress. Few could believe the events that occurred during her escape, but as the pieces come together, it seems the rumors are hardly farfetched.

“Send a message to the Captain. She's heading northwest.”

“As you wish, Commander!” The soldier jogs back towards the main group, while Nesparu continues to study the forelimb that’s up in the tree.

If the otherworlder woman turns her strength on them, he shudders to think about what kind of damage it would do.

It seems our only choice will be to catch her unaware.

The Commander returns to the formation to regroup his soldiers, and they begin mounting their buckrokhs to continue the pursuit. They’ll have to find where the young woman headed next, but thankfully, a town is often a good place to gather information.

Given the state of the village that had a ravine carved into the ground by a single punch from the woman, she seems to leave an easy trail to follow.

And, until she is captured and returned to the Grand Prince, following her is the job entrusted to Nesparu and his men.

***

Daniel meets with everyone in the hangar. Neith has mostly recovered from using his necrotic spell against the woodland archfiend, and he has ordered the Grendel Six unit to continue investigating the area to see if they can gather more information. The refugees have been given homes in the town around the Citadel, and Shek and Skloe have been finding them employment, as well as community gatherings to help them recover.

And, the two Goblin Queens are standing with their combined six children. Daniel kneels as he his charged down by the princesses, Jieka and Tekten, and they hug him. “Papa!” “Daddy!”

“Princesses! Oh, my sweet chidrens! Be good for Mommy Shek and Mommy Skloe.”

“Yeah!” cheers Jieka, and Tekten asks softly, “Papa hurry back?”

“And stay away from you cuties? I wouldn’t dream of it. But, there’s some friends that we have to help out.”

“I’ll help!” offers Jieka excitedly. Daniel ruffles her hair, saying warmly, “I’m sure you would. But, then there’d be no work for me.” She giggles, maybe understanding, maybe not. He adds, “If you would, help Mommy with looking after your brothers and sisters, alright?”

Jieka nods eagerly. “I-I’ll help too,” adds Tekten a little urgently, and Daniel pets her head as well, earning him a happy smile from the cute little half-goblin girl.

He then says, “Now, say goodbye to your Aunties while I talk to your moms.”

“Okay!” cheer both girls. Jieka bounces off happily, immediately giving hugs and farewells to the Dragon Empresses, while Tekten hesitates. Daniel kisses her forehead, and she blushes, smiling happily. “Bye bye, Daddy.”

“Bye bye, my sweet little Tekten.” She cups her cheeks happily and she jogs to the Empresses as well, though Jieka is mistakenly saying goodbye to Gold as well, thinking she’s going with the Empresses.

Daniel kneels in front of Shek and Skloe, who look a little more worn out than when he first met them, and he asks sincerely, “Shek, Skloe… Are you two doing alright?”

Both of them smile and nod, and he pets Daugli’s and Pomiel’s heads while they look up at him. The youngest daughters were born during the last weekend, so they’re still too young to understand what’s going on.

Skloe replies sweetly, “We’re very busy, but more and more citizens are moving into the area, which is taking some of the burden off with more workers.”

“We’re struggling to make up for mana use,” replies Shek a little quietly. “Xyreko and the others have been very helpful, but with new workers, we end up needing more golems to keep up so no one starves. I know we’re supposed to minimize…”

Daniel cups her cheek with his right hand, which causes her to halt her disappointed reply. “I’ve left you with a lot of work, and you’re doing amazing for me. As soon as we finish with Mattarglos, we’ll all be returning to press forward on more of our projects.”

Ryuogriar points out, “We’ll be negotiating with Rikuto soon as well, which should reduce the military logistics some.”

Shek nods in understanding. “If there’s anything you need, please…”

Daniel smiles and kisses her briefly. “Shek, you do enough. You don’t have to push yourself too hard. Same for you, Skloe. If it gets to be too much, please take a step back and let Xyreko know. We have leeway, so don’t think that you’ve done anything wrong.”

They both smile and nod, hugging him affectionately.

Skloe then asks, “Before you leave, we’re currently not carrying any children, Daniel…” She smiles invitingly at him.

He laughs lightly. “Three little rugrats, and you still say that?”

The two Goblin Queens blush and avert their eyes. They’re currently holding their youngest daughters while the princes cling to the hems of their skirts. “W-We promised,” replies Shek.

“Once these six can fend for themselves a little more, we can consider it again.” He leans closer, and the human teases warmly, “When we get back, though, I hope we can wear each other out.”

Geirahoel clears her throat noticeably, and Daniel rolls his eyes. “Aren’t you laying your third egg soon, Mukori?”

“Mm-hmm,” retorts Ryuogriar as she and Reignleif stare coldly at their junior.

Geirahoel blushes and crosses her arms, looking away. “If you don’t save some energy for the rest of us, I won’t forgive you.”

“Yes, yes.” Daniel kisses Shek and Skloe, then petting the heads of the four youngest half-goblin children. He stands up and looks at Gold. “Gold, if you would, keep an eye on things. Don’t hesitate to reach out to us. Mattarglos is in a good position for us, so we can afford to prioritize the Citadel more.”

She nods. “After I beat you in our duel, you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Now, the rough-edged Golden dragon-woman is the subject of three glares from the Empresses.

“I haven’t forgotten,” replies Daniel. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

The shimmering blonde smiles broadly, showing every one of her pearly teeth. She then pats Neith’s chest, teasing him, “If you want to spar in the meantime, Neith, I’ve got a bone or two to pick with you.”

Neith replies politely, “I’ll look forward to it, Lady Gold.”

Thymeria, having waited patiently, asks, “Daniel, how is my sister doing? Will she be returning soon?”

“She’s doing well. She was a big help with the missions, and she’s a great reassurance to have on the team.”

“I’m glad,” replies the Uhl’tall woman.

“Please inform my Mistress that we have received a message from the Chief requesting the date for the next lunar blessing ceremony. I know it’s in the next few weeks, but only the Archpriestess knows the exact date.”

Daniel nods. “Lunar blessing ceremony. Sir Neith, please help me remember.”

Neith nods. “Of course, my Liege.”

“Ahem!” states Ryuogriar, drawing attention to herself. When Daniel looks at her, she asks, “Am I not capable of remembering something?”

“I was going to ask you to make contact with Sundenelle again to inform her about our intentions to negotiate. I figured it would be easy to forget a simple message to Vaergraes.”

Ryuogriar smiles and clears her throat, looking away. “I see. I was worried you might have simply feared I would forget the message to sabotage her.”

Reignleif and Geirahoel laugh playfully, and Daniel replies, “Of course not. I need you for important Empress things.” Yeah, glad I thought of that so quickly. I’ll have to apologize to Sundenelle someday for using her as an excuse.

He then looks at Xyreko. “Xyreko, have the patrols avoid the forest for now, but keep rooting out bandits and other adversaries. Since the Woodland Archfiend doesn’t seem to leave the forest, I think we can wait until I can focus on it. If there are any issues, you have my permission to cloister the Citadel. If it is resistant to fire, then make use of anti-magic rounds.”

“Naturally, Daniel. If you’d like, I can send Grendel Six with polonium rounds to hunt down the creature.”

“Hold off for now. For all we know, it’s an actual guardian spirit crucial to the ecosystem of the forest. Vae, Doephluev, or Senn might know more. And, the last thing I want to do is provoke it further until we are better prepared to defeat it.”

“Very well, my Emperor.”

Ahok clears her throat from nearby. “Y-Your Grace…”

“You can still call me Daniel, Lady Ahok.”

She fidgets with her hands, still keeping her distance from anyone male. “Daniel, please let me know if there are any issues with the mana detector. I plan to make a second one to experiment with here, if that’s alright.”

“Please do. If we find anomalous mana around the Citadel, we’ll be able to hopefully prevent the creation of monsters in our vicinity.”

She nods in agreement. “Thank you. If there are design flaws, though, please let me know sooner, so I can adjust the second one.”

“Will do, thank you.” Daniel then looks around, asking, “Anyone else?”

“Yes! Me!” calls out the youngest voice present as she trots up.

Daniel sighs internally, keeping a pleasant smile as a young human princess approaches. “Daniel.”

“Princess Eri.”

She smiles cutely up at him, saying brightly, “I would like you to bring Hekate back soon. I miss my friend.”

“And, she misses you as well. I expect us to return in around two weeks at most. If we can’t find usable signs of mana anomalies in that time, we’ll have to rethink our plan anyways.”

She nods. “I see, I see. Then, please take this.” She presents something she had hidden behind her back.

It’s a simple gift, seeming to be little more than a piece of fabric with embroidery on it. The Citadel has a huge stockpile of all kinds of fabrics, and between the golems and new citizens, coming across something of this quality would be no issue for Daniel.

However, the meaning behind it is far more significant. The piece of fabric is a handkerchief with a very artistic emblem on it that Daniel recognizes with ease.

When he was in the navy, he made it to the rank of Second Class Petty Officer, the fifth enlisted rank, a year or so before he finished his service contract. For his job, it was less of a big deal than other job rates due to the accelerated advancement for nuclear operators, but he was content with the level he achieved. His job was challenging and stressful, and he lost the desire to stay in any longer than his first contract.

The emblem stitched onto the handkerchief is the perched black eagle, often called a ‘crow’ by sailors, with the two chevrons behind the bird, rather than under it. The chevrons aren’t the simple chevrons that he knew, but are instead made of decorative ivy-wound sword-blades, by what he can tell. It’s very clearly a respectful reimagining of the insignia while trying to assign meaning to every part of the design where the truth was much simpler.

And, around the eagle and chevron blades are two half-wreaths, one on each side of the eagle’s outstretched wings.

Daniel could play dumb, but he knows she must have found one of his old navy pictures with his dress whites, since the ‘crow’ is pitch black, even with the higher level of detail she applied to making it look like a majestic bird. She even gave it the iridescent look with small streaks of blue, green, and purple stitched in.

Erimaya tries to preemptively explain herself, since Daniel hasn’t said anything as he continues to study the emblem, which brings back a long six years of memories for him. “Um, I… I just wanted to… make the Lawson family crest for you. Di-... Did I do something wrong?”

Her innocence snaps Daniel out of his thoughts, and he manages to smile warmly. He is truly touched by the thought, and he never hated his uniform. He hated people who made his job miserable.

The mechanic pats the blonde pre-teen’s head gently. “That’s not my family’s crest, unfortunately. It’d be wrong for me to…”

He notices her expression drain of her usual optimism, and she looks almost like she could cry if he says anything more.

“I… what I mean is… Uh… Well, the Navy was… kind of like family…” The kind you want to strangle… “So, I guess, in a way, it was a family crest in a sense… just not for the Lawson family. B-But, I’m really happy with this.” He takes the proffered handkerchief, unfolding it to appreciate the full design, and she watches him with hope-filled eyes.

“Since it’s not quite the same, I think it’s technically okay if I bear this emblem. Thank you, Eri. Truly.”

She beams at him brightly, cupping her hands together in front of her chest. “You really mean it!?”

“Y-Yes, of course. Though, if you are trying to make a family crest for the Lawson family, we can sit down and…” He halts himself, realizing he just stuck his foot in his mouth all the way to his ankle.

Erimaya has become even more excited, all but standing on her tip-toes as she smiles up at him eagerly. “I won’t let you down!” cries out the young princess giddily.

Not one to smash someone’s enthusiasm for something harmless, Daniel bites his tongue and forces a smile. “Y-Yeah, I… We’ll talk about it when I get back…”

“I’ll start coming up with ideas immediately!” exclaims the young blonde. She then asks cutely as she subtly dances back and forth, “S-So… You’re okay with the handkerchief?”

Daniel sighs. “Yes. It reminded me of why I was proud to be in my country’s military.” He strokes the emblem with his thumb, remembering the long road it took for him to complete just a six year contract. He was never one to urge others to leave or stay in the Navy, because there were boundless benefits to both sides, and it was simply Daniel himself that didn’t want to deal with everything that comes with being in the military.

But, if he had to make the choice again, he’s confident he would choose the same path. If anything, he’d welcome the chance to better invest the money he made for such a young age.

Erimaya’s handkerchief represents a glorified past, and the evolution of that past into the future.

There’s no way he wouldn’t appreciate that.

***