Under the bright afternoon sun, Naphael sat in the back of his vehicle, driven by a chauffeur. It was a four-wheeled carriage-like vehicle, but instead of being pulled by horses, it ran on a mana stone, the primary energy source in this world.
They made their way through the busy streets of Zlatogorye, the capital city and administrative heart of the Maurya Empire. Other mana-powered vehicles passed by, but Naphael's stood out. Its intricate design and ornate detailing subtly signaled his rank in nobility.
After a few more turns, the vehicle came to a stop in front of a massive building. Elaborate carvings covered its exterior walls, flanked by statues of chimeric creatures, standing guard like silent sentinels. At the peak of the rooftop, an emblem shaped like a six-winged 'psy' with a single eye looked out over the city below.
Without paying much attention to the decor, Naphael stepped inside.
The interior of the building was clean and sleek, a stark contrast to its ornate exterior. Near the edge of the lobby, a reception desk stood with a woman seated behind it. A pair of waiting chairs sat nearby, most of them occupied by people waiting for their turn.
As Naphael stepped inside, he was greeted by a different woman who seemed to have been expecting him.
"Welcome, Sir Naphael Kovalevska of the Kovalevska Family," she said with a slight bow.
Without stopping at the reception desk like the others, she led him directly toward the elevator.
Inside, she pressed the button for the top floor, the highest level of the building, inaccessible to most visitors and reserved for those of particular importance.
When they arrived, she guided Naphael through a series of hallways and doors until they reached one in particular. The door was ornately designed, with torn floral motifs subtly carved into its frame. At the top, a nameplate marked the identity of the person inside.
---
Dr. Agafon Kitin
---
The woman knocked gently on the door. A man's voice responded from within, inviting them to enter. She opened the door for Naphael, who stepped inside. With a polite bow, she closed the door behind him, leaving him alone in the room.
Inside, an old man in wide ceremonial robes sat behind a large desk. His face was calm, marked by high cheekbones and a square jaw softened by a neatly trimmed beard.
Upon seeing Naphael, the man rose from his seat and gave a respectful bow, though not as deep as the woman's earlier.
"Welcome, Sir Naphael Kovalevska, the Head of the Kovalevska Family."
"There's no need for formalities, Agafon," Naphael replied, taking the seat across from him.
Agafon gave a faint smile. "I see. It's good to see you again, Naphael."
"Good to see you too," Naphael replied, his tone curt but not unfriendly.
Glancing at Naphael's face, Agafon made a casual remark. "Your face hasn't changed a bit."
"And yours is a lot different from what I remember," Naphael replied.
Despite the contrast in their appearance, it was Naphael who was actually the older one.
After a brief pause, Agafon's tone shifted, tinged with curiosity. "I have to ask... are you really here for 'mental treatment?'"
"Yes," Naphael admitted.
"Really? I struggle to imagine anything in this world could affect you," Agafon remarked with a raised eyebrow.
Naphael leaned back slightly. "Agafon, I'm still 'human.'"
"Are you, though? Back during the war, I stopped thinking of you as just human," Agafon quipped.
Naphael frowned. "Can we cut the small talk? I don't have much time."
"Ah, my apologies. That was unprofessional of me," Agafon said with a slight nod. "From your letter, it appears to be a case of 'trauma,' correct?"
"Yes, I believe so," Naphael confirmed.
Since his encounter with the black cat, Naphael had been experiencing recurring episodes where his 'unconscious realm' felt as if it were eroding. At first, he assumed it was just another form of a lingering mental attack, something he could push through as he had in the past. But he soon realized this was different. It didn't simply cause 'pain,' it seemed to live, and worse, to grow.
Realizing the potential danger, he decided to seek out a professional, someone well-versed in the unconscious realm: a psychologist from the Psychologist Guild. A few days earlier, he had written ahead to reserve a session, which brought him to the very building he now sat in.
Though the guild was respected for its specialized work, it wasn't particularly popular within the Maurya Empire, especially among the nobility. Concerns over privacy, along with the guild's philosophical stance, which often clashed with a certain noble party, kept many nobles away.
Now that their earlier small talks had concluded, Agafon wasted no time. He opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper, its white surface etched with faint markings that gave it an ancient feel.
Without a word, he picked up his quill and began to write.
Naphael watched as Agafon's quill moved swiftly across the page. Every time the tip touched the paper, it emitted a soft bluish glow, drawing in Agafon's own mana and weaving it into the wording. Agafon's handwriting was quick and a bit difficult to follow, but not so messy that Naphael couldn't make it out.
When he finished, Agafon slid the paper across the table.
"These are the terms and conditions for the treatment."
Naphael took the document and began reading it carefully. It laid out, in clear language, what he would be agreeing to in order to proceed. His brow furrowed as he reached a familiar clause.
'Direct access to the unconscious realm...'
He had known this clause would be included, but seeing it spelled out still unsettled him.
His concern wasn't unfounded. The unconscious realm comprises a person's memories and emotions. Within it, every experience that had stirred strong feelings was stored as a vivid scene, ready to be replayed at any moment. Granting someone access meant exposing not just private memories, but the raw emotions behind them. It was a level of vulnerability that felt more invasive than any physical exposure.
Setting his concerns aside, Naphael read on. The remaining clauses were minor, with no serious implications.
Once he finished, he channeled a thin stream of mana into the paper for a secondary inspection. Although he trusted Agafon, hidden clauses could sometimes slip through, added by third parties and concealed using 'illusion spells.'
Satisfied with the inspection, Naphael set the document down and took out his own quill. Now it was his turn to add terms of his own to the agreement.
The moment his quill touched the paper, it lit up, not with a single hue like Agafon's, but with shifting bands of color that move together in harmony without blending.
Naphael's term could be summarized in a single line: complete secrecy regarding anything seen within his unconscious realm.
He handed the paper back to Agafon, who carefully reviewed the additions.
"Alright, everything looks fine," Agafon said, a hint of eagerness flickering in his eyes.
As a renowned psychiatrist, Agafon had explored many unconscious realms, but none intrigued him more than the realm of a Grand Title holder. These individuals were anomalies, beings who defied the world's natural laws. The chance to witness such a realm firsthand stirred something in him, like the thrill of his early days, when he first learned to navigate the unconscious realm.
"Now then," he said, handing the paper back to Naphael, "let's proceed with the 'binding contract.'"
Naphael placed the document on the table, then pressed his index finger to the surface and began channeling mana into it.
The writing lit up instantly, releasing a radiant, multicolored glow. The light grew denser with each second, deepening in color and intensity until it collapsed into a white briliance.
A bead of sweat formed on Agafon's brow. He had seen Naphael in battle before, but never at full strength. Witnessing his effortless release of such dense mana, far beyond any normal magician, left him stunned.
'Naphael... are you really human?'
After a moment, the letters on the paper began to shift, moving as if alive. They wove together into an intricate symbol, sealing the document into a 'binding contract.'
Almost instantly, Agafon fell from his chair, coughing violently. The contract had taken hold, anchoring itself to him. Despite the agreement being relatively simple, just a standard mental treatment, the force behind Naphael's mana had elevated it to something far heavier. The weight of the bind was comparable to a treaty between nations, now condensed onto a single individual.
Across from him, Naphael remained still, completely unfazed. He had anticipated this reaction. He knew exactly how much weight his mana carried, and what kind of strain it would place on anyone caught in a binding contract with it.
'This might shave years off his lifespan...'
After several moments of harsh coughing, Agafon slowly climbed back into his chair. His face was pale, his breathing uneven, but his eyes told a different story. There was no fear in them. Only exhilaration.
"Hah... now that was something else," Agafon said with a laugh.
The truth was, he had already known the risks of making a binding contract with a Grand Magus. From the moment he accepted Naphael's request, he had expected the toll it would take. He just hadn't realized the impact would be even greater than anticipated.
"Apologies for the theatrics," he said, catching his breath. "I actually took a heavy dose of 'potion' beforehand to raise my body's tolerance, but apparently, your mana was heavier than I expected."
Naphael said nothing, simply watching his pale complexion in silence.
Agafon let out a short breath, then straightened his posture. "Alright then. Let's begin."
***
That afternoon, in Sophia's room at the Kovalevska Family Estate–
I opened my eyes, stirred awake by the sharp sound of something solid being struck.
'What was that?'
Scanning my surroundings, I noticed Sophia, busy working on something.
Curious, I walked over to her. "What are you doing?"
"Sir Seraphix! Hello," she said, smiling. "I'm working on a project."
"A project?" I leaned in to get a better look. "A backpack?"
"Yes! It's the prototype for a cat backpack, version 0.1," she replied, her excitement evident.
'Cat backpack, huh? That might actually come in handy for long-distance travel.'
The backpack had a square base and a rounded top, with a transparent cover that allowed for visibility when upright. The design was simple and not overly flashy. But as I examined it further, I noticed a problem.
"Sir Seraphix, what do you think?" Sophia asked suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"I like the design," I replied.
"Really? I'm so glad! I worked so ha—"
"But," I interrupted, "it's too small."
"Huh?" Sophia blinked, a bead of sweat from her earlier hard work rolling down her forehead.
"You've made it so compact that my body would press against every wall of the backpack. It needs to be larger."
"But I thought you were squishy enough to fit," she said hesitantly. "When I squished your body before, it seemed like you could shrink down even smaller..."
"Make it bigger."
"B-but Sir Seraphix, I don't have enough material..."
I met Sophia's eyes and repeated myself, firmly. "Bigger."
She let out a sigh, clearly reluctant, but gave in. "Ugh, okay..."
"I'll help you with it," I said, raising my right front paw. Activating my skill, Transmogrify Essence, I extended one claw and sharpened it to a fine point, perfect for cutting. "If you need anything sliced, leave it to me."
"Really? Thank you, Sir Seraphix!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm quickly returning.
I knew using my mana for this was a bit frivolous, but I saw it as an investment for a more comfortable journey in the future.
"Alright then, let's begin."
***
A few hours of chaotic work later, Sophia stood in the middle of her room, staring blankly at the mess around her.
The floor was a disaster, scattered with scraps of wood, fabric, and other materials in no particular order.
Beside her, Seraphix was curled up on a heap of wood and cloth, purring steadily in his sleep.
Sophia let out a pout.
'You promised to help, but you fell asleep after barely an hour,' she thought, exasperated.
Feeling a hint of mischief stir within her, Sophia decided to play a trick. Grabbing a marker, she leaned in close and began to doodle on Seraphix's face.
When she was finished, she leaned back to admire her handiwork. Seraphix's face was now adorned with exaggerated white rings around his eyes, nose, and mouth, giving him the distinct appearance of a clown.
As she stifled a giggle, Seraphix's nose twitched. A moment later, his eyes blinked open.
Seeing his newly decorated face, Sophia couldn't contain herself. She bolted to her drawer, burying her face in a pile of clothes as laughter shook her shoulders.
***
Blinking slowly, I began to take in my surroundings.
'Ah, right. I must've fallen asleep while working...'
I glanced around in search of Sophia and spotted her easily. She was rummaging through a drawer full of clothes.
After a light stretch, I walked over to her.
"Hey, Sophia. Sorry about dozing off earlier."
"I-it's alright, Sir Seraphix," she stammers, flinching slightly before hastily sifting through her clothes.
Her odd behavior piques my curiosity. "What are you doing?"
"Ah, well... we're running out of materials, so I was thinking of going outside to buy some."
At the mention of the word 'outside,' my cat's ears perked up. "The weather looks nice. I'll come with you."
Sophia froze mid-motion and slowly turned to face Seraphix. But the moment their eyes met, she jerked her head back toward her drawer. "Oh, really? Th-then let's go. I'll, uh, get ready first," she muttered, her voice tense.
Her reaction puzzled me.
'Is she avoiding me? Or am I just imagining things?'
***
After we decided to shop for materials, Sophia began getting ready, which turned out to be surprisingly fast, at least compared to how long women usually took to prepare in my old world.
Cradling me against her chest, she carried me out of the room and into the world beyond.
It had been a few minutes since we stepped outside, but I was already taking in the sights of this new world. And something immediately stood out.
'Mediaeval fantasy... or... no?'
I had assumed this world would follow a typical mediaeval fantasy setting, but it felt nothing like that. If anything, it resembled the early 1900s, where steam engines chugged alongside the faint hum of electricity. The atmosphere carried a strange blend, like steampunk merged with the early 2nd industrial Revolution.
The road was divided into separate lanes for pedestrians and vehicles. The vehicles resembled early cars from my old world, though their designs carried subtle touches of fantasy.
All around us, people strolled along the sidewalks or rode in those oddly familiar vehicles. What caught me off guard was how modern everything looked.
'Even the clothing…'
All citizens wore winter coats, as expected for the season, but their outfits weren't the dramatic, layered clothing I had imagined from a medieval setting. Instead, their clothing was sleek and tailored, with a style that felt more modern than I anticipated.
Then there was Sophia... perhaps not quite. The person cradling me didn't look like her at all. Earlier, she had explained that whenever she went outside, she used a 'Disguise Amulet' to alter her appearance. It made her look like a slightly pretty commoner, rather than her usual enchanting self.
Like everyone else, she wore a winter coat with grayish accents that helped her blend into the crowd.
As we made our way toward the busier street, I noticed a structure that looked remarkably similar to a power pole, with cables stretching from building to building. I pointed a paw toward it.
"Sophia, what's that?"
"Oh, that's our mana grid," she replied casually. "We store high-grade mana stones there to power the surrounding building."
'So it's basically like the power lines back in my old world... but powered by mana stones instead of uranium or hydrogen.'
"I see."
Sophia came to a stop, then continued with the enthusiasm of a teacher. "You see, Sir Seraphix, we use mana stones to power the entire city, from lighting to even the furniture in our mansion. Mana stones are pretty amazing. Although they can be 'unstable' at times and require proper maintenance depending on their grade, anyone can extract mana from them and convert it into whatever form we need, like heat, kinetic energy, or even magnetism. Of course, there are also inherent properties of mana that—"
She went on for several more minutes. Honestly, I only paid attention to the first quarter of it. Once she started diving into mana theory, the rest flew right over my head. Still, I managed to catch something important.
'So this world recognizes the concepts of heat, kinetic, and magnetic energy...'
As Sophia continued rambling for a few more minutes, I lightly tapped her hand with my paw. That seemed to snap her back to reality, and she suddenly realized that people around us had started staring. After all, she was passionately explaining mana theory… to a cat.
Her face flushed red with embarrassment, and without another word, she hurried off toward our destination at full speed.
***
After a few more minutes of walking, we finally arrived at our destination. It was a massive building, its exterior adorned with elaborate carvings that lined the walls. At its center stood a statue of a castle-like shape, but with features that made it resemble a face of some sort.
At the top of the building was an unusual emblem: a half-cracked 'egg' with several hand-like extensions emerging from it. Each hand appeared to be grasping a different object, most of which looked like oddly shaped jewels.
Standing at the entrance, Sophia declared, "Sir Seraphix, this is the Merchant Guild!"
"Wo—ehm... interesting design," I muttered, barely stopping myself from saying what I really thought.
Even compared to the architectural marvels of my old world, this building was impressive. While its style leaned toward the medieval, the level of detail and craftsmanship was undeniably remarkable.
As Sophia approached the entrance, a guard stepped forward and blocked her path. He had been eyeing her for a while now.
From his perspective, she looked like just some clueless teenage girl... talking to a cat.
"I'm sorry, but I think you've got the wrong place," he said gruffly.
"Oh, right. My mistake," Sophia replied, quickly reaching into her small pouch and pulling out a gray card.
"As long as you understa—... please wait a moment, young madam." His voice trailed off as his eyes fell on the card, specifically, the distinct 'design' on it. He immediately bowed slightly, stepped back, and called for someone in a hurry.
Moments later, a young man in a pristine butler's uniform appeared.
"Greetings, young madam. I will be your guide for today," he said with a practiced bow.
"Okay, I'll be counting on you," Sophia replied with a polite smile.
The butler turned and led the way, and Sophia followed him inside.
As we walked, I couldn't help but notice the guard's earlier pale expression, and now, the nervous sweat forming on the back of the butler's neck. The shift in their demeanor had been so sudden that it caught me off guard.
'I wonder what that grey card is about...'