The road to the north was a ribbon of scorched dust and wind-swept tallgrass, stretching toward the horizon where the sky met the sea.
Blade Lunaria sat atop his wooden carriage, the reins held loosely in his gloved hands.
Beneath the relentless glare of the midday sun, his vibrant crimson hair seemed to burn with its own inner light, a stark splash of color against the muted greens and browns of the Ironwood frontier.
Beside the carriage, his brown horse—a stubborn beast he had claimed for its "honest eyes"—tossed its mane and let out a huff of exhaustion.
"Patience, boy," Blade chirped, his voice carrying a melodic, infectious cheer.
A wide, boyish smile was plastered across his face, the kind of expression that made strangers feel an instinctive urge to trust him.
"The sea air is just over that ridge. I can smell the salt and the spices already."
Internally, however, the consciousness guiding the vessel was far from cheerful.
From within the mindscape of the body-vessel, Shujin was busy profiling the atmospheric mana density.
He felt the transition in the air; the heavy, stagnant pressure of the Ironwood capital was giving way to the fluid, energetic resonance of the northern coast.
To the world, he was Blade Lunaria, the "lovable failure" who had finally achieved his dream.
To himself, he was a ghost inhabiting a puppet, testing the limits of a crimson mana core that felt like liquid fire compared to the icy void of his true Shadow Core.
As the ridge fell away, Pearl Bay revealed itself. It was a masterpiece of maritime industry.
Thousands of white-sailed ships bobbed in the harbor like gulls, and the city itself was a tiered amphitheater of stone and timber, climbing the cliffs that overlooked the vast Great River.
The river was a sapphire monster, wide and deep, serving as the liquid border between the Ironwood Kingdom and the fertile, advanced territories of Silverwood.
Blade reined in the horse at the edge of the cliff, squinting at the distant northern shore.
"Hm… take a ship?" he muttered, his sharp red eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark.
"The docks look like a hornet's nest. Too many people. Too much noise. And waiting for a ferry is just… well, it's boring, isn't it?"
He tapped the side of his carriage with a gloved finger, a rhythmic thump-thump that echoed his heartbeat.
"No… let's make this journey worth the story. Let's make it fun."
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The harbor of Pearl Bay was a chaotic symphony of commerce. Dockworkers, their skin tanned dark by the sea salt, hauled massive crates of Silverwood timber and Ironwood ore.
Merchants in silk tunics shouted over the cries of gulls, bickering with captains over the price of passage.
Blade rolled into the city, his bright red and gold leather adventurer's outfit drawing curious glances from every corner.
He looked too clean, too expressive, and far too happy for the gritty reality of harbor life.
A pair of city guards stepped forward to intercept the carriage, their halberds lowered in a practiced gesture of authority.
"Hold, traveler. State your business in Pearl Bay," the senior guard commanded.
Blade didn't flinch. He leaned over the side of the carriage, his smile widening as he tapped the circular brass badge pinned to his chest.
"Blade Lunaria, Rank-C Adventurer! Just passing through on my way to see the sights of the north, gentlemen."
The guards froze, their eyes fixed on the Rank-C insignia. In the world of Velgrith, a C-Rank was the dividing line between a hobbyist and a professional.
Such individuals were granted travel exemptions and were recognized as assets to the kingdoms.
"Rank-C… at that age?" the younger guard whispered, his jaw dropping.
The senior guard cleared his throat and stood straighter.
"Our apologies, Sir Blade. An adventurer of your standing is always welcome. Just keep the horse clear of the main merchant lanes."
Blade gave a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his head with a hand that looked entirely too innocent for someone who had recently slaughtered an Orc King.
"Of course, of course! I wouldn't want to cause any trouble. Thanks for the help!"
He dismounted near the main pier, tying his horse to a weathered post. He stood at the very edge of the stone docks, the Great River roaring just inches below his boots.
He measured the distance with a clinical precision that the "Blade" persona usually hid.
"Improvisation is the soul of adventure," he whispered to the wind.
Blade extended his right hand toward the far shore.
The atmosphere didn't just change; it ignited.
For a heartbeat, the cheerful mask faltered, replaced by a terrifying, focused intensity. He tapped into the vessel's core, drawing out a torrent of mana that would have killed a lesser mage.
"Look! At the docks!" a sailor shouted, pointing a trembling finger.
A crimson storm of energy erupted from Blade's palm. It wasn't elemental fire, but Condensed Barrier Magic—the same technology used to protect kingdoms, repurposed for a single boy's whim.
The air groaned under the weight of the pressure as geometric runes, each the size of a wagon wheel, began to manifest in the air.
"He's… he's forming a barrier across the river?!" a merchant gasped, dropping a bag of silver coins.
"That's impossible! A bridge that size would drain a dozen royal mages of mana in seconds!"
Blade ignored the cries. He poured the crimson energy directly into the river's path.
The barriers snapped together like the teeth of a cosmic zipper, stabilizing into a translucent, glowing path of sculpted light.
Each section of the bridge shimmered with a heat so intense that the river water beneath it began to hiss and steam, creating a shroud of white mist.
He returned to his carriage, guided the nervous horse onto the glowing crimson surface, and let out a long, cheerful whistle.
"Come on, boy. Let's show them how traveling should be done!"
The carriage rolled forward. The sound of hooves clopping against the magical barriers was a rhythmic, metallic ring that echoed across the water.
To the hundreds of spectators on the Pearl Bay docks, it looked like a hero from an ancient epic was walking across the very sun itself.
On the far shore, the Silverwood Harbor was in a state of high alert.
The harbor guards, clad in the elegant silver-and-blue plate of Queen Bellatrix's military, sprinted toward the water's edge.
"By the gods… is that a bridge?!" the captain shouted, his hand flying to the hilt of his rapier.
A young soldier beside him laughed nervously, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe.
"That's… that isn't something an adventurer is supposed to be able to do, Captain. Not even a Rank-B."
"Report this to Queen Bellatrix Silverwood immediately," the captain ordered, his voice tight.
"If there is someone capable of bridging nations with a single spell, Her Majesty needs to know their intent. How much mana… how much will does that take?"
The guards formed a defensive line, spears lowered, as the carriage emerged from the mist.
The crimson light of the bridge began to fade as the carriage reached solid ground, and a young man with red hair and a brilliant smile hopped down from the driver's seat.
Blade gave a casual, two-fingered wave.
"Good evening, gentlemen! Beautiful weather for a crossing, isn't it?"
The captain stared at the boy, then at the Rank-C badge, and finally at the empty river where the bridge was slowly dissolving into motes of red light.
He let out a dry, disbelieving laugh.
"Hey kid," the captain said, shaking his head.
"Didn't have enough coin for the ferry, so you decided to build your own road?"
Blade scratched his cheek sheepishly, his red eyes sparkling with a fake but perfect humility.
"Something like that. Though honestly, I don't think it was all that tiring. I just hate waiting in lines!"
The guards exchanged glances, the tension in their shoulders finally breaking. They lowered their spears, recognizes that while this boy was a monster in terms of power, he carried no malice—no "shadow."
"Well… whatever you are, you've got guts," the captain sighed, gesturing for his men to stand down.
"Welcome to the Silverwood Kingdom. Just try to keep your 'roads' to yourself while you're in our city, alright?"
"Don't worry," Blade replied, tipping an imaginary hat politely.
"I'm just here for the scenery!"
Behind him, the magical bridge finally collapsed. The crimson barriers shattered into thousands of fragments that fell into the Great River like falling stars, the waves rolling as the unnatural light dissolved into the deep blue.
Blade guided his carriage into the harbor city of Port Marina as the sun dipped below the jagged peaks of the mountains, painting the sky in shades of bruised gold and blood-orange.
"Sun's setting," Blade muttered to his horse.
"Best find a quiet inn and some good hay before we head further inland. I hear the Silverwood ale is something to write home about."
He led the horse toward the city center, greeting the bewildered townsfolk with a warm, easy smile that never reached the cold, calculating depths of the mind within.
Nearby, perched atop the eaves of a tall stone warehouse, a cloaked figure crouched in the growing gloom. Their eyes were fixed on the back of the crimson-haired boy.
"So… that is the boy who walked across the flames," the watcher whispered, their voice a mere rustle in the wind.
"Just an adventurer seeking a smile… or a variable that will set the north on fire?"
Blade didn't turn around, but Shujin—the mind behind the mask—noted the watcher's mana signature.
He memorized the frequency of their breath and the weight of their gaze.
The "lovable failure" continued to whistle his cheerful tune as the shadow slipped deeper into the darkness, carrying news that would soon reach the highest thrones of the world.
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✦ To be continued...