Ace sprang up first, landing lightly and turning to wave.
Rome lowered himself onto the seat with the careful grace of someone treating the wagon like an outrageously expensive salon chair, one hand smoothing the edge of his cloak so it wouldn’t crease by even a millimeter.
Valda let out a quiet sigh, then pulled out the party’s ledger as if she were already calculating what supplies they might need to buy along the way.
“This is a tourist route,”
she said, voice crisp and practical.
“The chances of trouble are extremely low. And don’t accidentally buy souvenirs beyond your means, okay?”
Mary sat properly along the inner side, tucked in neatly. Her eyes looked oddly relieved for someone who could scream at any moment for basically any reason.
“Well… at least this trip probably won’t have mummies,” she muttered.
Earp sat perfectly still, one hand resting on his knee like a living statue that happened to breathe.
As for Sight… he was still Sight. He leaned back comfortably as if the wagon were a mobile bar, some kind of bottle always within effortless reach.
Lily sat across from them.
“This route is the direct path to Luna, the City of Magic… Almost every caravan has a mage riding along as a customer,” she said.
She paused, as if delivering a prophecy.
“Most bandits don’t want trouble with mages. Anti-magic and spell-reflection items are so expensive that it’s not worth the investment.”
Thunk.
A sound came from the back of the wagon. One of the wooden boxes shifted like it was lodging a complaint, and then two white lights flashed on at once—like someone had flicked on a pair of bulbs.
Michan poked its face out through the wooden lid, reflexively snapping at the air once before turning and nestling happily near the snack bag.
Rome’s expression tightened into a look that screamed refined irritation, but he stayed perfectly still. The more he moved, the higher the risk the mimic would decide to take a bite.
The wagon rolled out of Vanir slowly, then settled into a steady, even pace. The road was wide and smooth. Trees on both sides were a deep, vivid green, like they were showing off just how lush the kingdom was. Broad fields rippled in the wind, and along the roadside were tourist-style signposts at regular intervals. Everything about it practically begged you to believe this trip was going to be genuinely chill.
The route from Vanir to Luna was classified as a high-safety road, both because it served tourists and because it was the straightest path to the magic city. Which meant nearly every caravan had a mage somewhere in the group. Most bandits didn’t want to gamble on clashing with magic users—because if they really wanted to pull it off, they’d need defensive or spell-reflection gear. And as Lily had just said, those things were priced so high it simply wasn’t worth investing in. So bandits tended to hunt merchant caravans on other routes instead—routes where the risk-to-profit ratio actually made sense.
And on top of that, this road was frequently used by the royal family and the aristocracy. The targets might look tempting, sure, but the security scaled right up along with them. The success rate for robberies here was so low it was almost unbelievable…
Less than one percent.
Ace listened and made a quiet tsk under his breath.
“Less than one percent… and people still decide to try it anyway. That’s a lot of nerve.”
Sight gave a low chuckle from the back of his throat.
“Most of them don’t have nerve. They just don’t have a brain.”
Valda scribbled something into her notebook, as if she were writing down the conclusion like an official report.
“So basically, this route is for people who want to rest… not people who want to gamble.”
Mary kept watching the scenery, her expression loosening into something that finally looked like genuine relief.
The wagon rolled on, threading its way along a long road that ran so straight it looked like someone had drawn it with a ruler. The wind carried in the clean scent of grass and faint, damp earth—soothing, and miles away from the dry dust that still clung to their memories of the pyramid. Shoulders dropped one by one, as if everyone had only just remembered that traveling could be a reward in itself.
The caravan kept a steady pace. No need to hurry. No warning whistles. No one had to keep a hand on their weapon just in case. Normal travel was usually safe by default—and with a Rank S party riding as passengers today, the sense of security was practically a given. Along the way, they passed small villages at intervals, each one carrying that unmistakable blend of tourist charm and quiet history. Just looking at them, you could tell this road had been designed for people to come and breathe again.
By afternoon, the sunlight warmed a little more. The caravan began to slow, and the sound of wheels scraping the road shifted—less a flowing rhythm now, more the measured drag of entering a town. The fresh grass scent gradually gave way to something unfamiliar: a strange, green fragrance drifting in on the breeze, herbal in a way that felt warm even without a pot on the fire.
A wooden sign at the edge of the settlement displayed the name clearly.
Oakspell
A small village famous for cultivating medicinal herbs.
The moment the lead wagons crossed the line of low wooden fencing into the village, the caravan leader’s voice rang out from up front—clear and practiced, like someone who’d been doing this so long it had become muscle memory.
“We’ll be stopping to rest at Oakspell, everyone. We’ll continue the journey tomorrow morning.”
He paused at exactly the right beat, as if giving people a moment to breathe—then smoothly slid into the sales pitch like a seasoned professional.
“If anyone’s looking for a place to stay, I recommend Oakville the village’s only hotel. It’s fully equipped and very convenient. And Oakspell also has souvenirs, supplies, and various kinds of concentrated herbal extracts. You can buy everything right here in the village.”
Ace immediately turned to look at the rest of the party, wearing the kind of expression that said Yeah. This is an actual trip now.
“Did you hear that… fully equipped and convenient?”
He said it while lifting a hand like he was making a grand announcement.
“Rome, it’s your time to shine.”
Valda flicked her gaze toward the sign and the village entrance, already running an evaluation in her head.
“Lots of herbs. That means we might be able to stock up on essentials. We’ll buy what we need tomorrow.”
Mary looked around, and the tension that always seemed to live in her shoulders visibly loosened. The herbal scent in the air was comforting—nothing about it invited scary thoughts.
Lily tugged her hood down into place, her eyes sparkling like someone who’d just found the perfect checkpoint.
Sight stayed leaned back as usual, his gaze drifting toward the small shops—rooftops now starting to peek into view.
Earp didn’t comment. He simply looked ahead at the village in calm silence.
The caravan flowed into Oakspell beneath the late-afternoon sun, wrapped in an herbal fragrance that felt like the entire village had rolled out a welcome carpet—officially declaring itself a place to rest the heart.
The moment the wagon came to a complete stop in front of the Oakville Hotel, the caravan’s customers began climbing down one by one. Some stretched their arms. Some twisted their waists. Some let out long sighs, like they’d just set the whole world down from their shoulders. After spending all day rattling along with the wheels, putting their feet on still ground became an instant, tangible kind of happiness.
Ace’s group didn’t hesitate. They headed through the hotel doors in a neat cluster—like people far more used to checking in than sitting around talking about life.
Ace planted himself at the counter, confident and straightforward.
“Two large rooms, please.”
“No, no.”
Romeo cut in immediately, not even waiting for anyone to turn and look.
“Two large rooms and one small.”
Then he finished the sentence with crystal-clear intent.
“I’m taking the small room. Alone.”
Ace shot Romeo a quick side glance.
“Fine. Two large rooms, one small.”
He turned back to the receptionist.
The hotel clerk lowered her eyes to the reservation book, flipping pages with practiced ease. Then she looked up with a standard professional smile.
“One night. Large rooms are one silver coin per night. The small room is two copper coins per night. Total two silver coins and two copper coins.”
Ace snapped his head toward Valda so fast it looked like a built-in reflex.
“Valda, can you pay? Lodging on the road counts as shared expenses.”
Valda hadn’t even answered yet when Romeo glided forward first, as if he already knew his role in this world—making everything look classy.
“Here. Three copper coins.”
He spoke as he offered the coins to the receptionist.
“Two for the room. One as a tip.”
The clerk accepted the copper coins with a faintly confused expression—then her smile widened immediately, the way all tip-loving professionals do.
Valda placed the silver coins on the counter with plain efficiency, no theatrics needed.
“And this is two silver coins.”
The clerk gathered the money swiftly, then produced three keys and handed them over at once, neatly matching what they’d agreed on.
Valda took the keys first, then turned to the group with the tone of someone officially running the trip.
“Put your things away first, then we can split up and relax.”
Everyone nodded without ceremony.
Ace, Sight, and Earp headed upstairs to one of the larger rooms to drop their things off first. Their footsteps weren’t hurried, but they weren’t sluggish either—just a steady pace, like people who knew exactly what they were doing.
On the other side, Valda, Mary, and Lily went to the other large room with an even more relaxed rhythm. Mary, in particular, looked visibly lighter—as if merely hearing the word hotel made the world feel fifty percent safer.
And Romeo… Romeo peeled away toward the small room he’d chosen for himself, lifting his chin just a touch, as though quietly declaring his personal territory.
The door to the large room opened. Valda, Mary, and Lily stepped in together—and the very first sight instantly anchored the mood into something that finally felt like real rest.
The room was bigger than expected. Two beds sat neatly side by side, orderly and inviting, with enough space that four people could sleep comfortably if they had to. Off to the side, a small corridor led to a full dressing area and a proper bathroom. One look was enough to tell you: even if this was the village’s only hotel, it still took the job seriously.
But the real victory was outside.
The balcony doors were open, letting late-afternoon light spill into the room. Beyond them stretched the view of Oakspell—its rooftops, its quiet lanes—and, right in front, a vast herb garden spreading wide like a green sea. A fresh, clean herbal fragrance drifted in effortlessly, without the need for incense or scented candles.
At the heart of the garden stood a massive oak tree, towering and dignified. Its roots gripped deep, its trunk thick like an ancient pillar. Just looking at it gave the unmistakable feeling that it was the village’s symbol—something nobody needed to explain.
Valda stood there for a moment, taking it in, and a soft sigh escaped her before she could stop it. It was so beautiful that… she genuinely felt like moving her registered address here.
And then—
Thunk. Thunk.
A small knocking sound came from nearby, like something was tapping a box lid in protest. What, you get to enjoy the view and you don’t even let me out?
Valda immediately glanced over.
“Want to come out and enjoy the atmosphere?”
she murmured, like she was talking to a child.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
The lid popped open. And in the very next instant, Michan shot out like a fireball that didn’t require a spell—bouncing all over the room with pure excitement, making cheerful little noises.
“Mumi. Mumi.”
Its white glowing eyes flared like two lightbulbs switching on at once, and it spun around in the middle of the room as if declaring: This is the new world!
Mary jolted slightly, and a startled cry slipped out of her.
“Huh wait, there’s a Mimic here too?!”
Valda laughed softly, then bent down and patted the box’s “head” with familiar ease.
“This is Michan. Good kid.”
Michan went “Mumi, mumi” in a delighted tone, like it had just been praised with a second serving of dessert.
Before Mary could fully recover, Lily crossed her arms, lifted her chin, and announced in an absurdly cool voice—like she was opening a secret ritual.
“O little demon… would you like to become a servant of chaos under me?”
She pointed with elegant grandeur, as if a dramatic cape were fluttering behind her—even though there wasn’t the slightest breeze in the room.
“This path is not easy, and it is filled with danger. But our destination is Luna, the City of Magic. You shall receive education and upgrades. And then… you too will become a wielder of chaos magic at my side…”
She gave a low, self-satisfied laugh.
“Heh. Heh.”
Michan looked confused—if it even had a face to make an expression with, it was definitely confused. But then its gaze pivoted and locked onto someone else.
Mary.
As if some invisible aura was radiating around her, Michan bounced closer, staring with sparkling eyes in a way that made the target feel like they were being confessed to.
Mary froze. Her cheeks began to redden little by little, until she finally had to look away, unable to hold that gaze.
“Nnngh… don’t look at me like that…”
she mumbled softly.
In a room with a view so beautiful it made you want to move in, and a tiny mimic that stared at someone like a treasure chest full of affection, the day’s “rest time” began in a strange way—
but somehow… warmly.
On the other side, Ace, Sight, and Earp opened their door and found a room that was almost identical to the girls’—a comfortable size, two beds, the same corridor leading to a dressing area and bathroom, and a balcony to catch the breeze.
It was quiet in a way that felt rare. A faint, natural herbal fragrance drifted in, so fresh it made you think—almost without meaning to—that if you ever grew old and got to sit here, staring at this view every day… it might actually be the kind of simple, sufficient retirement life people dreamed about.
Sight was the first to head for the balcony. He leaned on the railing like the view belonged to him, took an easy sip from his flask, and sighed with a lazy smile.
“When I’m old, should I just come live hereeeeee?”
Ace immediately let out a low chuckle.
“With the way you drink, you’re not making it to old age. Your liver’s gonna cirrhosis and take you out first.”
Sight acted like it didn’t bother him, but his cheek twitched slightly—like he’d just been stabbed with a soft, perfectly aimed knife.
Ace glanced at Earp, who was quietly putting his things away with careful precision.
“Hey, Earp. Have you ever thought about it? What it’ll be like when you get old?”
Earp’s hands paused for a moment. Then he answered in the same flat, innocent tone as always.
“I’ve never really thought about it. I don’t know… It feels like I never know if there’ll be a tomorrow, so I just live day by day.”
The answer was so serious that the room went still for a beat—like that single sentence made the sound of the wagon wheels outside vanish completely.
But Sight refused to let the silence stay. He lunged in and hooked an arm around Earp’s neck without asking permission.
“Come on. Just have fun today, that’s all you need. Here want a drink?”
He shoved the flask right in front of Earp’s face like he was offering an emergency exit from heavy thoughts.
Ace yelped immediately.
“Hey hey hey! You can’t just offer alcohol to a kid like that!”
Earp took the flask and looked at it calmly, not excited in the slightest.
“It’s fine. Even though I don’t really like the taste… to be honest, my body breaks down toxins. No matter how much I drink, I won’t get drunk.”
The moment he finished, Sight looked like he’d been struck by lightning. He collapsed dramatically and pounded the floor like his entire world had ended.
“What kind of cruel joke is that?! If you can drink and not get drunk… what is life even FOR?!”
Ace and Earp burst out laughing at the same time. Their laughter echoed through the herb-scented room, and the heaviness from moments ago melted away like it had never existed.
While the other two rooms were already filling up with conversation, laughter, and the sound of someone pounding the floor after losing faith in alcohol…
Rome walked into his own small room in complete silence.
It really was small—small enough to qualify as “restful” by the standards of someone who valued personal space, not small in the suffocating sense. Inside was a single bed meant for exactly one person, and a window wide enough to give a decent view. There was no balcony.
But what won Rome over the moment he stepped inside was the cleanliness.
It was clean—clean enough to meet the standards he carried in his head… shockingly so. And judging from the way his expression shifted into a subtle satisfaction that barely showed on his face, it wasn’t hard to guess:
He definitely wasn’t staying at Oakville for the first time.
Rome put his things away with meticulous precision, like he was arranging a showroom. Then he went back downstairs.
When he reached the lobby, he found the party gathered near the front desk, right in the middle of a conversation with the receptionist.
Ace was the one asking.
“Do you have food service here?”
The clerk smiled politely and replied with practiced ease.
“We provide breakfast and room service, sir. But if you’d like to eat as a group, we recommend the restaurants in the village it’s more convenient. You’ll also be able to stroll around and see the shops, local life, and the herb gardens. The nearest recommended restaurant is just past the hotel. We usually order from there to serve our guests anyway.”
Ace nodded like he’d already finished mapping the route in his head.
“Alright… then everyone can go wherever they want for now. Tonight, we’ll meet up at the restaurant.”
It sounded like a release signal.
“Oooooooh~~~!”
Everyone exclaimed at once, and their hearts felt lighter immediately. Then they scattered in different directions, leaving the lobby behind with only a faint herbal scent and the receptionist still holding her professional smile.
“I’ll handle the food.”
Rome’s voice cut in right as everyone was casually settling on the plan at the counter. He stood perfectly straight, like a man about to announce the iron rules of vacationing.
“There’s a place here I want you all to try.”
He continued with confidence, and finalized the decision in a single clean sentence.
“Tonight, meet here. I’ll take you.”
With that, he walked away immediately—as if he feared that if he stood there for one more second, someone might challenge the sacred standards of taste he lived by.
Once the dinner plan was locked in, everyone went their separate ways, following whatever their “trip mood” demanded.
On the girls’ side, Valda, Mary, and Lily decided the herb garden would be their first stop. Meanwhile, Ace, Sight, and Earp headed into the village to browse goods—because once a team gets released, they naturally have to go look at something to make the arrival feel worth it.
Oakspell’s herb garden was far larger than it had looked from the balcony. And the moment they stepped into it for real, the atmosphere made all three of them feel like… their life goals suddenly had an image. Out of nowhere.
A gentle breeze layered the herbal scent into thin, drifting sheets. The evening light tilted at exactly the right angle—not harsh on the eyes, not too hot—just enough to make you feel like the whole world had clocked out for the day.
And at the center of the garden stood the giant oak.
The closer they walked, the more they realized it was far bigger than they’d imagined. The trunk was so thick it would take around twenty people to wrap their arms around it. Around the base, a resting area had been arranged—chairs scattered in a loose circle. A few tourists sat here and there: some chatting softly, others sitting in silence like they were charging their hearts. Mixed among them were a handful of locals too, probably just finished with farm work, resting without any need to rush anywhere.
Valda sat down first. She stared out over the wide garden and let her breath out slowly. This kind of peace didn’t exist in the capital. And even though Oakspell was only half a day’s travel away, the atmosphere felt like an entirely different world.
Mary sat beside her, hands placed neatly in her lap. Her eyes swept over everything with a strange emotion—both afraid… and wanting to stay.
Lily lifted her gaze to the oak branches, the shade spreading like a natural roof, and then fell quiet—something that didn’t happen to her very often.
Even Michan, not human at all, seemed noticeably gentler. The white glow of its eyes wasn’t flashing with excitement the way it had earlier. Instead, it softened into a mellow light—like a bedroom lamp left on for comfort.
Slowly, it edged closer to Mary, bit by bit, as if pulled by something invisible.
And then, all at once, it climbed onto her hand—brave and timid at the same time.
Mary froze. Her body stiffened slightly, fear clearly written on her face, and yet she couldn’t deny it—she was interested too. Her cheeks flushed little by little, like she’d been caught in a moment of softness.
Michan nestled there in her palm for a while… and then, without ceremony, it fell asleep.
The three of them sat with nature long enough for the fatigue from traveling to melt away into the cool breeze. Eventually, they stood and walked back into the village to browse and buy souvenirs as they pleased.
Valda took a particular interest in concentrated herbal extracts. Since this was the cultivation source itself, the quality looked far too good to be left to chance in the capital. She examined everything with the seriousness of choosing essential equipment—not mere souvenirs.
Lily stopped to buy a map clearly marked with the village’s coordinates. She tucked it into her bag with satisfaction. Someday, if she wanted to return, she could teleport here properly without ever having to ride a wagon again.
As for Mary…
She didn’t buy anything at all.
Because the warmth still lingering in her memory—the giant oak, the cool wind, the herbal scent, and the light weight of Michan in her palm—was already a souvenir precious enough.
Ace had said they were going to browse the village shops—but after walking until they’d nearly circled the entire place…
his hands were still empty. Not a single thing.
He glanced left and right, trying his best to look like a tourist supporting the local economy. In the end, though, all he managed was a polite nod here, a casual nod there, and then he kept walking—like he was inspecting the area rather than shopping.
Completely unlike Sight, who seemed like he’d been born to give meaning to the phrase browsing. He stopped at one stall for an unusually long time, then launched into a serious negotiation over a certain kind of tree root.
The merchant narrowed his eyes at the flask in Sight’s hand and let out a sigh, like a man accepting his fate. Sight flashed a faint smile and kept talking smoothly—until, finally… the price really did give in.
What Sight bought wasn’t anything flashy in the eyes of ordinary people. It was mistletoe, a plant most gardeners usually despised because it was parasitic.
But in Oakspell…
mistletoe had somehow become a cash crop.
Sight held the mistletoe up and examined it with satisfaction, like he was cradling a priceless treasure.
“Good… got what I came for.”
Ace gave it a baffled side-eye.
“You bought… a parasite?”
Sight made a face that practically said This is the good stuff.
“They grow it seriously here. And the roots can be used to make high-quality arrow shafts.”
He continued, sounding like he was educating someone who didn’t quite understand how this world worked.
“It helps add special elemental properties… the kind that deal better damage against light-element monsters, dark-element ones, undead, or holy-type stuff.”
Ace’s expression shifted into translating into human language mode.
“So basically… if the monster isn’t a normal element, this helps my shots hit harder, yeah?”
Sight nodded, pleased.
“Pretty much. The chance of your attack actually doing something goes up noticeably.”
Ace froze, then remembered one inconvenient fact.
“But you know why people don’t like it, right… it lowers accuracy.”
Sight grinned immediately, like he’d just heard his favorite joke.
“Which is why it’s not my problem.”
Ace went quiet for a beat, then muttered,
“Right… I forgot. You’re a problem for the entire system already.”
Earp hadn’t bought anything either—but for a completely different reason.
He moved from stall to stall, looking at every item like he was evaluating evidence, not merchandise. And then he started asking questions—detailed ones. Direct ones. Continuous ones.
One by one, merchants’ faces tightened, like they were being interrogated rather than doing business. Some began answering cautiously, weighing every word. Some started scanning for escape routes with their eyes.
Ace had to step in every so often, smoothing things over and dragging the atmosphere back toward customers browsing instead of official inspection.
“Don’t stress, don’t stress. We’re genuinely interested. It’s just that the kid has… kind of a weird aura, that’s all.”
Ace said it with an awkward laugh and a friendly smile, and the merchant slowly exhaled again.
Sight stood beside him, sipping from his flask like he was watching a free comedy show.
Earp glanced at him.
“I’m just asking questions, you know.”
“Yeah… but your aura makes it feel like you’re dragging people into an interrogation room,” Sight said, then laughed to himself.
Ace sighed and waved for them to keep moving before the conversation got any longer.
Not long after wandering around buying things—or wandering around making merchants forget how to breathe— the three of them ran into the girls’ group, who had just wrapped up their own souvenirs and memories mission.
Not long after, Romeo rejoined them—looking quietly satisfied, like a man who’d already secured exactly what he wanted.
“Alright, Rome. What’d you get?”
Ace asked immediately.
Rome lifted a hand as if presenting a prize.
“I picked up some essential oil concentrate. I’m going to blend it into perfume for myself.”
And then he began explaining with the gravity of someone lecturing on high art.
“I like sweet fragrances especially vanilla. And Oakspell has excellent vanilla. Honestly, it’s high enough quality to present to the king. Once it’s extracted, it’s so concentrated you can make perfume from it for an entire year.”
When he finished, he produced a small vial.
He barely cracked the cap open, and a soft, sweet scent drifted out at once—like pastries just pulled fresh from the oven.
“Whoa… it smells that good even just taking it out?”
Lily blurted, instantly intrigued.
“Right?”
Rome replied proudly.
“This village’s quality is incredible.”
But Lily wasn’t the only one interested.
Something else was paying far more attention to that scent than anyone.
Michan—the tiny monster Valda was carrying—lit up. Its white eyes flashed bright, like a child spotting their favorite treat. The vanilla aroma hit it like a legendary dessert, and it launched itself toward Romeo with total determination.
Rome stepped back at exactly the right moment. Michan flew past him by a hair—so close it almost looked like it was about to land on his head.
“No, Valda! Get it away from me!”
Rome shouted.
Valda quickly snatched Michan back into her hands with practiced ease.
“Well, you smell like vanilla. And Michan really loves sweets. That’s why.”
Ace laughed and shook his head.
“You’re hopeless, Rome. It’s tiny and you’re still scared.”
Rome frowned hard.
“I haven’t made peace with it yet.”
Sight, who’d been watching like he’d just found a perfect chance to deliver a life lesson, raised a hand in a mock teacher pose.
“Now watch me. If you want to approach a little kid, you have to be gentle.”
He slowly moved his hand closer, aiming to softly pat Michan’s head where it sat in Valda’s hands—
CHOMP!!
The bite sound was crisp and unmistakable. Michan sank its teeth straight into Sight’s hand without a second of hesitation.
“AAAAAAH! I’M GETTING EATENNNN!”
Sight screamed, loud enough that it was like he sobered up on the spot.
Valda yanked Michan away and immediately stuffed it into her bag like she was holstering a weapon that had just misfired.
“Because you stink like alcohol. Michan doesn’t like it probably thinks you’re some kind of animal coming to attack.”
Sight teared up a little. The bitten hand was red, and he blew on it while wearing the expression of someone the world had personally betrayed.
“But I was being gentle…”
Rome folded his arms, looking like he was concluding the situation from a position of superiority.
“Alright. Let’s go. I have a restaurant I’m taking you to.”
The words let’s go eat felt like the official signal that the evening portion of the trip had begun. Everyone gathered together and started walking—accompanied by the soft grumbling of one man who’d just been bitten by a tiny mimic and still refused to accept reality.