Sora arrived in territory controlled by Albion's royalists from the start, reaching the village shortly after emerging from the woods.
After surviving on strange food for three days, Sora burst into a lone villager's house and traded two gold coins for some proper meals, rice wine, and a set of rough burlap clothes. His original outfit had been shredded beyond repair while passing through the clouds. After devouring enough normal food for ten people, Sora felt utterly refreshed. He chatted idly with Jack, the house's owner.
"I hear the royalists are in a tough spot. No telling when the rebels might strike—maybe I should head out sooner."
"What are you on about? With the great mage of Gelphin on our side, the rebellion's doomed to fail. Our Prince Verus will step up as a strong king and make Albion mighty again." Jack shot back, clearly brimming with faith in the crown prince.
"That's the hope, but the rebels already number in the tens of thousands. The prince is short on troops."
"Traitorous nobles selling out their own country, mercenaries chasing coin—that's who they are. Waving swords at the king and crown prince? Their ancestors will curse them for it." Jack fumed.
"Here's hoping the crown prince pulls through," Sora replied noncommittally.
"Damn right—to the crown prince's victory!" Jack rallied, raising a hefty mug of wheat brew and downing it, clinking glasses with Sora over and over.
Sora knocked back ten cups straight, putting his host under the table, then quietly forced the wine from his body using water magic. He snatched the Delphlink card from beside the table and slipped out of the house.
The royalist-held area was tiny, with few structures grand enough for the king and crown prince. Sora gauged their location from the guards' positions. Sure enough, it was a minor noble's manor, patrolled by mounted guards outside. Overhead circled an eagle the size of a man.
That eagle was no ordinary bird—it pulsed with magic rivaling a triangle-rank mage. Without other high-level mages around, it had to be the familiar of Sifang-rank great mage Gelfin. Enhanced with [Eagle Eye], nothing within a thousand meters escaped its gaze.
Sora hunkered down in distant bushes, suspecting his position was already blown. He hadn't spotted the familiar until closing in—if the eagle had glanced his way, evasion would've been impossible. Sure enough, soldiers outside the manor stirred, a squad with spears advancing on his bushes. At fifty meters out, Sora knew he was made. He rolled from cover, eyed the manor two hundred meters off, and bolted outward.
"Chase him down!" "Assassin confirmed—grab him!" "Rebel spy?" The soldiers pursued. In the distance, cavalry thundered in.
Sora outpaced the foot soldiers but got cut off by cavalry before hitting the village. They charged from behind, lances thrusting viciously.
"Watch your back, partner," Delphlink warned Sora, spotting the strike beyond normal line of sight.
Sora drew Delphlink and leaped aside, parrying the nearest lance with his blade. Sparks flew with a harsh scrape as sword met shaft; he avoided the full impact and dodged clear. The cavalry thundered past, wheeled their mounts, and leveled spears at him. In that pause, ten spearmen caught up from behind, fanning out to encircle his rear.
Sora scanned around—no openings. Fine, time to play. He hoisted Delphlink, aiming at the two cavalry upfront.
"Charge!" they bellowed, spurring in. The spearmen leveled waist-high spears and closed too.
Sora met the cavalry head-on. "Yiya Faile Albrick!" A head-sized fireball erupted from his blade, slamming one mount. The horse screeched, reared on hind legs, and veered sideways in panic.
Sora dueled the other with swordplay. The lance swept low; Sora dropped into a crouch, gripped his sword two-handed, and caught it underneath. He surged upright, charging the rider—his blade slid along the shaft and slashed at the man's hand. Boom—the fireball punched a gaping hole in the first horse, dropping it with a wail and flinging its rider. Sora's target recoiled, releasing the lance; Sora's left hand let go, his right deflected the weapon. He vaulted up to horse-height and hammered down with an overhead strike. Rip! The cavalryman's chest armor split, blood gushing from the gash. Sora landed, dashed ahead, spun back, mounted the riderless horse, and shoved the wounded man off. He wheeled it to shake the pursuit.
But the horse bucked rebelliously. Spearmen closed in, stabbing at Sora atop it. He twisted, batting away ten spear tips, but took three or four gashes. They withdrew and thrust as one—deadly pressure.
Eyes flashing fierce, Sora sprang from the saddle, toed the horse's back for a boost, then stomped again to launch three meters up. "Imo Walter Haye" [Water Bomb]. Twisting mid-air, he swung—fist-sized water bombs burst from the blade, smacking soldiers' faces and eyes.
Blinded and staggered, their formation cracked. Sora kicked the horse's flank toward the gap, sword whipping back to gut two spearmen at the waist and burst through.
Truth be told, dropping these soldiers wasn't hard—if he'd channeled [Fireball] through the sword like before, they'd be toast. But Sora held no grudge against the royalists and had zero interest in slaughtering rank-and-file, so he stuck to milder [Water Bomb] magic. The fireball casualty? Best wishes to him.
Free of cavalry, Sora—physique doubled in strength—outran the spearmen easily. He slipped back to the village house unnoticed, set Delphlink by the snoring Jack, and feigned sleep.
When Jack stirred awake, Sora sat up too, rubbing his brow. "Gods, I drank way too much."
"Yeah, way too much," the man agreed.
"By the way, still need a place to crash—mind if I impose tonight?" Sora asked, flashing more gold coins.
"No trouble at all—stay as long as you like." Jack pocketed the coins eagerly. "Dinner? I can borrow from neighbors."
"Doesn't matter, just make it hearty—I eat big."
"Right, sit tight." Jack bustled out.
Sora pondered how to reach the crown prince, ideally before Louise and company made contact. Some soldiers patrolled the village, questioning folks, but Jack never pegged his afternoon drinking buddy as the intruder. They ate and turned in early.
Once Jack slept, Sora ghosted from the village to the manor again. By moonlight, the familiar patrolled overhead. Sneaking past its thousand-meter eagle eye? Impossible, he'd decided that afternoon. So he'd flip the script.
Sora strode into plain view, drew his sword, and carved into the dirt: "I need to talk. This concerns Verus' life."
Mages shared their familiars' sight—the eagle's view was Gelfin's. This would lure the chatty mage out for a convincible pitch. Sora waited by the message.
Half an hour later, a figure descended from the sky on gentle winds—likely [Float] magic. Gray hair, long beard, towering black robe, man-high wooden staff: Gelfin touched down before him.
"You've got guts luring me out," the old mage said.
"Hah—looks like you bought it enough to show personally," Sora chuckled.
"Who are you? Why trust a word?" Gelfin demanded.
"No proof of identity here. But hear me out—worst case, it's nonsense, and you're no worse off." Sora shrugged.
"Hm. Out with it, then—something about Verus' life?" Gelfin's gaze flickered.
"Any special envoys from Tolistin drop by lately?" Sora led.
The old mage's eyes bulged, locking on Sora. After a tense pause, eyeing Sora's steady calm, Gelfin nodded.
"Tonight, two arrived with Princess Tolistin's token. Prince Verus housed them in the manor."
Sora: "One's a cute pink-haired girl, short. The other's a smug square-rank mage. Spot on?"
Gelfin nodded. "How? You weren't near."
Louise was fine—inside the manor? Hang tight, see you soon. Sora pulled his gaze from the building. "Simple: I'm Tolistin's envoy too. Wind spirits waylaid me en route—we split."
"What?! Wind spirits?!" The old man gaped in shock.
"Listen close: that guy Varut? He's tight with Albion rebel boss Kolomwe—both in the Restoration Alliance. Varut's here to assassinate Verus." Sora locked eyes, dead serious.
Gelfin scowled. "Can't just take your word. Could be you the assassin—sneaking round the manor this afternoon."
"Was just trying to warn Verus without raising a fuss. Louise doesn't want him dead either," Sora clarified.
"Louise?"
"The pink-haired cutie. She's mine—Anrietta's best friend too. Queen gave her this mission. Varut and I were her guards."
Gelfin mulled the pair he'd eyed earlier: pink-hair girl quiet and withdrawn, the other scanning wary. Maybe this held water?
"You're close to convincing me. But one fatal flaw." Gelfin's eyes hardened; he twitched his staff. "No one escapes wind spirits!!"
Instant [Wind Blade]. Four air blades coalesced, lancing at Sora.
Sora's face tightened; he whipped Delphlink up, slashing to intercept. The blade glowed, devouring every blade.
Gelfin blinked. "Absorbs magic?" He leveled his staff.
Sora parried. Boom—[Wind Hammer], a compressed air blast hammered from the wand's tip, shoving him back hard. Sora stumbled out, caught himself in three steps.
"Old timer, your limits ain't everyone's," Sora taunted, weaving past a barrage of basic [Wind Blade] and [Wind Hammer] spells. "What I said's gospel—watch Varut close, or Verus dies and you'll eat regret."
No desire to brawl royalists, Sora blocked without countering. Delphlink's magic absorption plus his beefed-up body tanked Gelfin's assault. No second-tier spells? No dice.
Gelfin halted, stroking his beard, brow furrowed. Sora held guard ten meters off: "Mull it over—better safe than sorry for your Verus. I'll be back." He turned and vanished.
Gelfin let him go. Untrusted or not, worry gnawed for Verus. No smoke without fire—this warning meant real threat. He'd watch closer next days, spot any Verus-killers. Resolved, Gelfin [Floated] up and drifted to the manor. Sora's ploy had worked.