A week had passed since I moved into Garen's house. Nothing truly remarkable had happened during that time. I'd settled in a little, learned more about the world I now lived in… and discovered another passive ability within myself.
One morning, Garen and I decided to cross wooden blades in his yard — just for practice. The rules were simple: first to land five clean hits on the opponent's body wins. Three rounds in total.
Before the match, Garen spoke a little about his past. In his youth, he had served as a knight of the Royal Order and had even commanded his own squad. After retiring, he used his savings to buy land in this village and build a house here. That answered the question of how he could afford a place like this.
By the way, the village was called Fersuls — which in the local language meant "Wise Oak."
I wasn't a complete beginner either. Ten years of fencing practice in my previous world hadn't gone to waste. More than that, here I moved faster and lighter than ever before. According to Elaris, it was all thanks to my new body.
At first, Garen was clearly holding back, testing me. But once he realized I wasn't going to yield, he grew serious.
And that was when the passive skill revealed itself.
As Garen swung for a strike, the same voice I had heard during the battle with the Thunder Fox echoed in my head again — the one I still hadn't bothered to ask Elaris about.
[Passive skill activated: "Predictor."]
In the next instant, a translucent shadow seemed to appear beside Garen — a reflection of his movements, ahead of his actions by a fraction of a second. I could see where he would strike before his blade even began to move.
That was enough.
Dodge. Counter. Hit.
Five times.
That was how I defeated a former knight.
Someone might say, "Big deal — you beat an old man." But Garen wasn't some frail veteran. He was fifty-four, and by his own words, in the prime of his strength. It was just that at my current stage of development, he was no longer a serious opponent for me. Though, honestly, I probably could have managed even without using the skill — I just didn't have anyone else to test it on.
Later, we tried sparring with Suron, but he ran out of breath almost immediately and hit the ground even faster than Garen had.
After the match, Garen gave me a short katana as a gift. Since then, I've worn it in a sheath at my waist.
For some, it might have seemed too short, but for me, it was just right.
Over the week, I also learned that the village lay within the territory of the Kingdom of Elysium. The kingdom provided protection to settlements in exchange for a small percentage of crops and farmers' income. However, it was impossible to control everything, so bandits occasionally attacked remote villages before the knights could arrive in time.
Garen had served in the Order of that very kingdom — Elysium. So his past and his current home were more closely connected than I had first assumed.
His son, Kai, had followed in his father's footsteps, joined the knights, and eventually risen to the rank of personal guard and right-hand man to the current king.
Among the more curious things I'd learned, lighting in homes impressed me the most.
These weren't simple candles or oil lamps, but actual wall-mounted fixtures. Wealthier households even had chandeliers — like Garen's.
The principle behind them was surprisingly simple… and slightly strange.
In the surrounding forests lived demonic pixies — something like fairies, but originating from hell. They entered this world through a spatial rift somewhere deep in the woods. They weren't particularly dangerous, but humans had found a use for them.
A magical dust formed on the pixies' wings, known as Light Dust. It earned that name because it glowed brightly when exposed to magical essence in the air.
People captured the pixies, carefully collected the dust from their wings, and then released them. It didn't sound particularly humane, but according to Garen, these demonic pixies lacked intelligence — unlike other types of fae — and were considered closer to flies or mosquitoes. There were even special farms where they were bred and harvested regularly.
The lamp itself was quite elegant in design. Light Dust was placed inside, and at the base of the fixture there was an air rune. It generated a faint current infused with magical essence, which circulated the dust particles inside the glass globe. When interacting with the magic, the dust began to glow, gradually heating up and emitting a steady, bright light.
Turning the lamp off was simple — remove the power stone, and the magical flow stopped.
Honestly, I had expected a far more primitive level of development. But this world was clearly more complex than it first appeared.
Garen once told me there had been quite a story surrounding the pixie farms.
The Church considered keeping demonic pixies within city limits a desecration of sacred ground. In their view, even if the creatures posed no threat, their origin from hell alone was reason enough to ban them.
At first, it was limited to sermons and public speeches. Priests protested and demanded the farms be shut down, but according to Garen, the townsfolk listened without much enthusiasm — the new lighting had proven too convenient.
When it became clear that words alone wouldn't suffice, some decided to act differently. Several pixie incubators were destroyed during the night. The enterprise suffered significant losses, and rumors of sabotage spread quickly through the city.
In response, the farm owners filed a lawsuit.
The case dragged on for quite some time. In the end, the court declared neither side guilty but issued a compromise: pixie farms were banned within city limits. The state granted them land outside the walls, and production continued there.
— Everyone got something, in the end, — Garen had shrugged. — The Church got its restriction, the farms stayed open, and the king avoided open conflict.
What was strange was that the Church didn't protest the lamps themselves or the widespread use of Light Dust. If they were so concerned about "desecration," it would have made sense to oppose everything related to it. After all, the dust was still used everywhere.
I didn't dig deeper into it, but somehow I felt there was more to the story.
I couldn't help but smirk.
It seemed that even in a world of magic and swords, everything ultimately came down to land, money, and influence.
I leaned back in my chair and looked up at the lamp hanging from the ceiling. Particles of Light Dust drifted calmly inside the glass globe, softly illuminating the room.
A week ago, I had woken on a cold shore, not understanding where I was or what was happening. Now I had a roof over my head, proper clothes, a sword at my waist… and a life that, while strange, was beginning to make sense.
From the yard came the sound of clashing blades. Suron, apparently, was still training, trying to get his revenge. Garen grumbled something in response.
Perhaps getting used to this world had been easier than I'd thought.
At least for now.
The lamp's light flickered faintly as the air current inside strengthened, and I caught myself realizing that none of this felt foreign anymore.
This world had its own rhythm.
And it seemed that now, so did I.