Shopping, many heartfelt moments, and a day later, the sun rose once again on Alex and Veyra. They were fully awake in their inn room; Alex had prepared his backpack with whatever food and supplies he had in hand for their trip, and Veyra did as well. It wasn't long before they said their goodbyes to the various people who had helped them, starting with the innkeeper.
Alex and Veyra soon made their way to the Adventurers' Guild, saying their goodbyes to the Guildmaster as well. For Alex, it needed to be said; for Torvald (and the rest of the guildmates), it felt like a burden had finally been lifted from their shoulders. And like that, they continued.
The streets were filled with merchants and carts – some carrying barrels, others wheeling around large crates. Ever since The Ashen Divide was cleared of Veyra's rampage, Valthar has prospered once more, as evidenced by merchants haggling. "Wow, reminds me of the market I used to go with my parents on the weekends." Alex couldn't help but feel nostalgic.
"You have markets like these?" Veyra asked, both following the trail out of Valthar, back towards the Mountains.
"In certain locations back in my world," Alex replied, reminiscing. "So many stalls, so many people wandering about, as a kid, I hated going. As an adult, I miss that simplicity."
"I see." Veyra faintly chuckled at his last comment.
It wasn't long before they reached the edge of Valthar, where guards still roamed, protecting a kingless kingdom. A few of them saw the pair; they couldn't do much but gawk at them, scared even as they approached the gates. Knowing the gap between their strengths was astronomical. "Tsk. Seems even with your kind deed, they still can't help but tremble at seeing the sight of you." Veyra observed, a hint of annoyance in her voice as her lips smacked.
"Well, that can't be helped, unfortunately," Alex dryly laughed. "It'll be a long time before I can gain anyone's trust around here, so until then, I'm fine with this current dilemma."
"Humans of this world are petty," Veyra remarked. "They will not forget an event like yours, not any time soon. This'll likely go down as the worst calamity that Valthar has faced in history."
"Too bad for them, it was a normal Sunday for me, so whoop de doo." Alex groaned.
They stopped at a provisions stall run by a stout dwarf with a braided beard. Alex began loading the counter with the essentials: dried meats, hard cheese, flatbread, salt, flint and steel, rope, a few waterskins, and several small jars of healing salve the dwarf swore by. Even with what they packed, it was better to be prepared for anything along the way —enough supplies to last the trip and then some.
Veyra watched him quietly, arms folded, then leaned in. "The journey to Kharzad will take at least two weeks on foot," she said. "Even longer if we avoid the main roads. The passes are treacherous this season."
"Well, you weren't that hard to deal with," Alex nodded, handing over a handful of gold. "I figured everything else would be a breeze. Mountains, forests, whatever else this world throws at us. We should be fine, to say the least." He gave her a gleeful smile, continuing to pick around the crates for certain items.
Veyra's cheeks turned lightly pink. "You - You have a point." Her words slurred a bit. And then a thought occurred; she tilted her head, crimson eyes glinting with mischief. "You could ride me."
Alex froze mid-reach for a sack of dried apples.
Veyra continued, voice low and teasing. "In dragon form, I could carry us both. We would cross the range in days instead of weeks. The wind would be cold, but I would keep you warm."
The image hit him like a freight train—himself clinging to the back of a sixty-foot crimson dragon, arms wrapped around a scaled neck, pressed against warm hide while mountains blurred beneath them. His face went hot; his mind went blank. "I—uh—that's… generous," he managed, with words all scrambled. "But no. I mean, thank you, but… no."
Veyra's brows lifted. "You are shy?"
"I'm not shy," he said too quickly. "I just… think walking would be good. For both of us. I want to see this world properly. Forests, settlements, monsters, not just fly over it. Besides—" he glanced at her, softer now "—I like being on the ground with you. Side by side." Alex reasoned with her. "On top of that, you were in your dragon form for a long time; I'm sure you'd rather be in your humanoid form for a bit longer before you spread your wings again."
Veyra studied him for a long moment. Then she smiled slowly, warm, approving. "Then we walk," she said simply. "And we see everything."
Alex exhaled, relieved and a little giddy.
*Smooth recovery,* the author decided now was a perfect time to butt in, in Alex's embarrassment. *Don't think I ever witnessed anyone go as tomato as you.*
*Shut up. I'm handling this like an adult.* Alex refuted.
*What? Is riding a sexy dragon childish?* Author countered.
*YOU KNOW THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!* Alex mentally yelled.
*Right, right,* Alex can feel the author roll his eyes, a rather displeasing tone in his voice. *I give you the opportunity of a lifetime, and this is how you throw it right in my face?*
*I'm not throwing anything in your face, it's just I really couldn't have her do that for me,* Alex mentally groaned. *It's a new world; I would love to see just what's in store for me if I took it step by step.*
*Well, I have been making you take big steps these last couple of days, I guess taking it slowly now would be beneficial to your growth... Fine, I won't argue with you about that. We can call this your filler arc.* The author couldn't help but agree with Alex's reasoning.
*Filler? Really? My adventure is not Bleach.* Alex remarked.
*Adventure montage then? What do you want me to call it?* The author questioned.
*Anything but filler, it makes it sound not so important.* Alex continued with his rambling.
*Insignificant?*
*Yeah, that's the word! Insignificant! I want this whole adventure to feel like an accomplishment, if that makes any sense.* Alex reeled it in.
*I hear you, I hear you. Well, everything in the long run will have an impact on you, so I'm not just throwing you into the hot, sizzling pan without any thought.* Author elaborated.
*Why does that not sound sincere enough?* Alex questions once more.
*That's as honest as I am going to be with you,* it seemed this time the Author shot down any more questions. *Now, about that stat thing you wanted to know a chapter or two ago—focus inward. Like you're checking your phone in your mind. I rebuilt you with that awareness, but you must activate it.* He quickly changed the topic.
Alex realized there was no point in continuing to pester the man dictating his current life. He groaned. *Thanks for the tutorial, Obi-Wan. I'll make sure to give it a shot once we're out of Valthar.*
*You're welcome, Anakin Skywalker.*
*Bite me.*
Veyra can see Alex's demeanor constantly changing through his concentration. "Voice in the head again?"
"Yeah, he's gone now," Alex grabbed the last of the supplies, handing over a bag of gold towards the merchant. "It'll be a while before he comes and pesters me again with his shenanigans." He turned to look at his lovely dragon partner, ready as ever to leave Valthar. "Let's go."
A simple smile and nod were all the affirmation he needed from her.
What was once morning now turned midday with the Sun shining ever so brightly upon the pair. They left Valthar, packs heavy, the northern gate guards giving them the same wide berth they had the day before. Aura alone was enough for the guards to stay clear and out of their pathway.
It wasn't long before they made their way towards the bottom of the Ashen Divide. This mountain range is what separates one kingdom from the other. As they stood at the top, gazing and breathing everything in, this was the first step to an actual adventure, and for Alex, nothing was stopping him from exploring the world inch by inch.
The first week took them beyond the Frostspire range (all the mountains that included the Ashen Divide), past the charred slopes where Alex had first met her, through narrow passes where snow still clung in shadowed crevices, then down into the vast emerald sprawl of the Verdant Hollow Forest.
The forest was alive in a way Chicago never was, at least for a city detective. Trees towered like cathedrals, leaves filtering sunlight into green-gold shafts. Birds called in unfamiliar melodies. And monsters prowled.
The first encounter came on the third day: a pack of champion goblins—larger than their lesser kin, armored in scavenged plate, wielding jagged blades. They ambushed from the underbrush, shrieking war cries. Well, at that point, it wasn't an ambush if they made their awareness known.
Alex drew the short sword he'd bought in town; Veyra flexed her fingers, flame licking between them. The goblins charged.
Alex moved first, ducked a wild swing, drove his shoulder into the lead goblin's chest, and felt ribs give way. The creature flew backward into its pack. Veyra exhaled a thin stream of fire that ignited the dry leaves around another, sending it scrambling.
Within moments, the pack was broken. Alex finished the last one with a precise thrust; Veyra simply stepped on the neck of one trying to flee.
He wiped blood from his blade, breathing hard, grinning. "That was… fun."
Veyra, with her mastery of fire, cleared away the forest fire and smoke she left in her wake. She laughed. "You are enjoying yourself."
"Yeah. I am." His laugh joined hers.
*Oh good, I see you're acquainting yourself with the known denizens,* the author quipped. *I could've written something cooler, like a mini boss. But no, I guess we start with the green gremlins. A good classic if I do say so myself.*
*Hey, they're a warm-up. I'm not complaining, surprisingly.* Alex, along with Veyra, started scavenging the dead goblins.
*Glad to hear that. Enjoying the RPG vibes?* The author asked.
*If I'm not complaining, then I'm having a good time, that's all I'm going to say.* Their conversation was rather short, but to the point.
Later that night, beside a small campfire, the pair sat shoulder to shoulder. The forest was quiet except for the crackle of flames, distant owl calls, and whatever else was calling out to the moon.
Veyra leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder. Her warmth seeped through his cloak. A light snoring came from her, soft and gentle but faint.
This was the first time in a while Alex had been by himself, since he started this journey. Even the author didn't bother to chime in at that moment. Then he remembered what he had told him before he had left Valthar — the stat menu, like in your classic fantasy setting Isekai. Alex hesitated, then focused inward—just as the author had described. Numbers and text shimmered into view, floating in his vision like translucent HUD elements.
Alex Reyes
Race: Human
Age: 28 years
Level: ???
Class: ???
HP: ??? / ??
MP: ??? / ??
Strength: ???
Agility: ???
Endurance: ???
Magic: ???
Skills: ??? (Locked / Undefined)
Unique: Lost Otherworlder – Narrative Awareness
He blinked. "Everything's just… question marks," he said quietly. "Like the system doesn't know what to do with me."
*Not quite.* Author's voice echoed right out of his head. Alex's peaceful moment was coming to fruition. *It's not that it doesn't know what to do with you, it's more along the lines of hiding your full potential,* the author explained. *The world's stat system — the one I created — is designed for the locals. You're an import basically — too chaotic, too undefined, too unrefined. I can't box you in the same way I've boxed everyone in. It's not a nerf, it's your edge — if anyone else with this skill tried to use it on you, they'll be reading a bunch of nonsense. As your adventure progresses, more of your skills and abilities will become visible to you.*
*Well, that was helpful,* Alex silently sighed, almost pouting. *Basically, I'm just a walking plot device for your convenience, eh?*
*You're the main character, I need you to be as flexible as can be to serve the plot — you're welcome. Now stop meta-talking and enjoy the campfire romance.* And like always, the author skedaddled like dust in the wind.
Veyra's eyes widened, seeing Alex in deep thought. "Him again?"
"Yeah," Alex straightened up a little, making sure Veyra stayed comfortable on his shoulder. "He was just showing me a new skill I unlocked after I had dealt with one of his tasks."
"Oh?" She looked up at him. "Show me."
He hesitated, then focused on her instead. The HUD shifted from what his spreadsheet was to hers, lighting up in front of them.
Veyra of Kharzad
Race: Draconoid (Ancient Flame Lineage)
Age: 553 years
Level: 87
Class: Ember Sovereign
HP: 14,820 / 14,820
MP: 9,450 / 9,450
Strength: 412
Agility: 389
Endurance: 467
Magic: 521
Skills: Flame Dominion, Shape of Flame, Guardian's Oath, Inferno Heart, … (17 more)
Title: Crimson Terror (Former), Guardian of Kharzad, Unchained Flame
Alex whistled low. "You're… terrifying."
She smiled, almost shy. "I'm- I'm not that impressive."
He looked at her—really looked. The firelight danced in her crimson eyes. "I beg to differ, you're amazing."
"You really think so?" She couldn't help but blush.
His gaze couldn't leave hers. "Yes, I mean it," he brushed his fingertips on her cheek, feeling the warmth of them. "At least compared to mine, you can read yours. Mine's all gibberish."
"Maybe the point of not knowing is so you can find and figure yourself out in this world," Veyra's hand found his. Fingers interlaced. She leaned in slowly, pressing her lips to his temple—soft, lingering, warm enough to make his pulse stutter. "I'm glad I can be a part of that." She whispered against his skin.
Alex's spine couldn't help but send a shiver through his body, the sound of her voice vibrating around his skin. "I'm– I'm glad too."
They stayed like that for a long time, fire crackling, forest breathing around them, two people who should never have met yet somehow did.
*You two are going to give me cavities,* the author muttered.
*Jealous?* Alex thought, smiling against Veyra's skin.
*Extremely.*
The days blurred into a rhythm of travel and wonder.
On the fifth day they met a trio of trolls—massive, moss-covered, surprisingly polite. The leader bowed its boulder-sized head when Veyra greeted them in an ancient tongue. They traded stories around a shared fire; the trolls warned of insectoid nests deeper in the Hollow.
*Friendly trolls?* Alex thought later, as they waved goodbye. *Surprised you didn't make the hostile.*
*Everyone loves a friendly fantasy denizen, they won't be the first nor will they be the last I include in this box,* the author replied. *I figured you'd like the Witcher vibes. Keeps things interesting.*
*Yeah, yeah,* Alex sighed. *Don't pat yourself on the back too hard. It would've been extra nice if I understood their language.*
*I can't give you everything on a platter, you know?* The author exclaimed.
*What point is being your Mary Sue without all the Mary?* Alex couldn't help but bite back.
*Well, sue me then.* Alex could feel the rolling of the eyes.
*Maybe I will.*
The sixth day brought those insects: horse-sized ants with mandibles like scythes, spiders the size of wagons dripping venom that hissed on stone. Alex and Veyra fought back-to-back—him with sword and raw power, her with flame and claw. When the last spider collapsed in a twitching heap, Alex stared at the corpse, fascinated. "Back home, we have ants the size of my thumb," he said. "These are… next level. Look at those mandibles—could probably crush my head if I let them."
Veyra wiped ichor from her hands. "They taste rather good over a fire."
He laughed until his side hurt. Her gaze was rather cold this time around. Alex composed himself. "Wait, you're serious!?"
A devilish grin spread across her cold face, and she continued walking. It left Alex rather dumbfounded. *She's not serious, right?*
*Oh, now you want me to chime in, eh?* Alex can hear that sarcasm in the author's tone.
*Don't you dare sass me, asshole, just answer my damn question.* He remarked right back.
*I might've been watching Starship Troopers when I wrote this part, okay?* The author couldn't help but reveal that embarrassment. *And come on now, there are lots of countries that eat bugs, don't be surprised that the fantasy setting only expands on it.*
*I get small bugs, but the big ones? Sounds nightmare-inducing on top of the stomach turning." Alex couldn't help but feel slightly disgusted.
*Don't knock it without trying it, could be a great delicacy in that world.* The author argued.
*… don't you dare write about me eating this arachnid.* Alex's tone was cold enough to cut.
*No promises.*
Bandits came on the seventh day—six poorly armed men who thought two travelers were easy prey. They didn't last long enough to regret it. Alex disarmed the leader with a flick of his wrist; Veyra simply exhaled once, and the rest dropped their weapons and fled.
*Pushover bandits,* Alex thought as they dusted themselves off. *Classic D&D starter mob.*
*You're welcome,* the author said. *Keeps the pace snappy. Wouldn't want you getting rusty before the real threats.*
*Rust? After goblins, trolls, bugs, and now these clowns? I'm good.*
That night, they made camp beside a stream. No fire—just starlight and the soft rush of water.
Veyra sat behind him, legs bracketing his, arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Her chin rested on his shoulder. "Tell me again about Chicago," she murmured. "Your world."
He leaned back into her warmth, voice low. "Lakefront at sunset. The water turns gold and pink. People jog along the path, dogs barking, music from someone's speaker. You can smell grilled food from the vendors. It's… ordinary. Perfectly ordinary, at least in my eyes."
Veyra's arms tightened slightly. "I want to see it with you someday," she said.
Alex turned his head, brushed his lips against her jaw—soft, tentative. "Maybe someday, when I figure out if I can even go back," he whispered. "Until then… we've got this world."
She turned him gently in her arms until they were face to face. Foreheads touched. Breaths mingled. Her fingers traced the line of his cheek, slow and reverent. "Traveling with you has been the best decision I've made in hundreds of years," she said.
He kissed her—slow, careful, tasting smoke and spice and something uniquely her. She kissed back with the same careful hunger, hands sliding to his shoulders, pulling him closer.
When they parted, both breathing unevenly, Alex rested his forehead against hers again.
*Hi there.* The author muttered, what perfect timing he has.
*Go away, I'm having a moment over here, you know?* Alex thought, smiling against Veyra's skin.
*Fine, fine.*
They stayed like that under the stars—tangled, warm, and quietly certain. The road to Kharzad still stretched ahead. But for the first time since he arrived in this world, Alex didn't feel like he was running toward something. He felt like he was walking toward home. With her.
The second week of travel carried them out of the dense emerald heart of the Verdant Hollow and into the rolling golden plains that marked the slow transition toward Kharzad's borderlands. The air grew warmer, drier; the trees thinned into scattered groves, and the horizon stretched wide enough to make a man feel small. Alex and Veyra walked in easy rhythm—packs lighter now from consumed rations, boots worn, conversation flowing like the stream they followed for two days.
On the ninth morning, as they crested a low rise and looked down on a herd of wild aurochs–cow-like monsters – grazing in the distance, Alex finally asked the question that had been simmering since they left the Valthar. "So… Kharzad," he said, keeping his tone casual. "How different is it from Valthar? I mean, really different. Not just the scenery."
Veyra glanced sideways at him, crimson eyes thoughtful. "Valthar was built on fear and supremacy," she answered without hesitation. "Humans first, everything else beneath. They feared what they could not control, so they sought to destroy or subjugate it. Kharzad is… older. We remember when the world was young, and the races walked together—not as equals always, but as neighbors who needed each other. The flame that burns in my people also burns in the forges of dwarves, the hearths of beast-kin clans, the hearths of elves. We do not fear differences. We honor strength, loyalty, and survival above bloodline."
Alex nodded slowly, processing. "So, no 'human destiny' speeches? No border purges?"
Veyra's lips curved in a wry smile. "There have been wars; old grudges, bitter greed of men. But Kharzad does not wage war for the sake of purity. We defend what is ours, we trade what we can, we leave the rest alone. Beastkin, elves, dwarves, and even humans all live within our borders if they prove themselves worthy. Strength is respected. Weaknesses are pitied, not hated. We protect those who can't fend for themselves."
Alex exhaled through his nose. "Sounds… healthier. Less likely to summon a guy to start a genocide."
She laughed—low and warm. "Much less likely. Though I suspect the summoning circles still exist in hidden places. Old magic dies slowly in this world."
"Old magic, eh?" Those words echoed in Alex's mind.
They walked in silence for a while, boots kicking up dust on the dry trail.
Alex glanced at her again. "And the royalty? How does that work? You said you were revered. Is there a king? Queen? Council?"
Veyra's stride didn't falter, but her voice grew quieter. "My father is king."
Alex nearly tripped over a root. "Your… father. The king. Of Kharzad. So that makes you royalty then?"
"Yes."
He stared straight ahead for several long seconds, mind racing. *Well, shit.* he thought.
*First major turning point,* the author chimed in, almost gleeful. *Royal family drama incoming. Brace yourself, buddy. You're about to meet the in-laws.*
*You're. Not. Helping.* Alex was clearly annoyed.
*It's a fair head-up. You're walking into a kingdom where the princess—sorry, the strongest Draconoid heir—has a crush on the guy who incidentally became the Butcher of Valthar. This is going to be fun. At least for me.* The author teased.
*Shut up. I need to process this.* Alex pulled his hair back, anxiety kicking in. He cleared his throat. "So… your dad. The king. Does he… know you're alive?"
"I wouldn't doubt if he wrote me off as a lost cause because of the mind control; no one in the kingdom nor in his army would've been able to stand up to me the way you did," Veyra lamented, her voice slowly turned low. "It's been at least half a year since I last stepped into the kingdom."
Alex rubbed the back of his neck, realizing it wasn't just him having to deal with Veyra's father. "Right. So, we're about to walk into a royal court, with one who's presumed to be a lost princess, and me, with a 500k bounty and a body count to follow. Great."
Veyra stopped walking. Turned to face him fully. "You are not walking in as a criminal," she said firmly. "You are walking in as the man who freed me. The man I chose to stay by your side. My father will see that. Or he will answer to me."
Alex looked at her—really looked. The quiet steel in her eyes, the unwavering certainty. He felt something settle in his chest. "Okay," he said. "Then we do this together."
She smiled—small, fierce, and proud. "Together, like we've been doing."
They continued.
Two days later, on the eleventh day of travel, the road took them to a wide, dusty trade route. A caravan rolled into view—six wagons pulled by sturdy aurochs, guarded by a small group of humans in mismatched armor and weapons. The wagons were heavy with crates and barrels, but what caught Alex's eye—and made his stomach turn—were the chains, the people.
Beastkin—wolf-eared men and women, fox-tailed girls, a few scaled draconoids younger than Veyra—were shackled to the rear wagon, heads bowed, wrists raw. A human overseer cracked a whip lazily above them, barking orders.
Alex stopped walking. Veyra stopped beside him.
He felt the old cop instinct flare—hot, familiar, angry.
"I know that look," Veyra said quietly.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I didn't want to meddle. Maybe I shouldn't. But…"
"But you are you," she finished for him. "And I'll follow your lead."
Alex exhaled through his nose. "Let's go say hello."
They approached the caravan at a steady walk. The lead guard spotted them first—saw Veyra's horns, Alex's calm stride—and immediately drew his sword.
"Halt!" he barked. "State your business."
Alex raised both hands and palms open. "Just passing through. But I couldn't help noticing the chains. Those people—slaves?"
The overseer—a thick-necked man with a scarred cheek– spat into the dust. "Legal indenture. Bought fair. None of your concern, stranger."
Alex's jaw tightened. "Funny thing about 'legal' in Valthar. I've seen how that works."
The guards shifted uneasily, taking out a familiar piece of paper with a certain someone's face. One whispered something about "the Butcher." The overseer's eyes narrowed. "You're him," he growled. "The one who torched the capital."
Alex shrugged. "Guilty. And I'm not in the mood to debate legality today."
Veyra stepped forward slowly, deliberately. Flame flickered between her fingers. "Release them," she said, voice calm but carrying the weight of a volcano about to wake. "Or burn."
The overseer laughed—nervous, disbelieving. "You think you can—"
Alex moved. One step, one hand on the overseer's wrist. A twist. The whip dropped. A knee to the gut. The man folded, gasping.
The rest of the guards rushed in.
Veyra exhaled once—a thin, controlled flame that scorched the ground in front of them without touching skin. They froze.
Alex looked at the chained beast-kin. "You're free. Go."
Hands trembling, they began fumbling with locks. One fox-tailed girl looked up at Veyra—eyes wide. "You're… the Crimson Terror."
Veyra's expression softened. "I am, now go youngling."
The freed slaves scattered—some running north, some south, a few lingering to thank them with bowed heads and murmured words in languages Alex didn't know.
The overseer staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach, eyes wild.
"How…?" he rasped. "How did you escape the collar? The master said it was unbreakable. Said the Crimson Terror would rampage forever—"
Veyra's head snapped toward him.
Alex froze.
The overseer's words hung in the air like smoke.
Veyra's flame flared—bright, suddenly. The overseer screamed once, then silence. She stepped over his charred body without looking down.
The remaining guards broke running, screaming, and weapons were abandoned.
Alex watched them flee for a moment, then looked at Veyra. She was staring at the overseer's corpse, expression unreadable.
"Master?" She repeated softly. "Someone is orchestrating in the shadows. These slavers, they knew about the dark-infused magic collar I had – there's a connection."
Alex stepped closer, holding her hand. "We'll find him," he said. "Whoever he is. Whatever he wanted. We'll end it."
Veyra turned to him. Her eyes were still burning, but not with rage. With something colder. More focused. "Yes," she said. "We will."
They left the caravan behind—wagons empty, chains broken, bodies cooling in the dust.
The border of Kharzad lay ahead of them.